Incestuous Tales of the Quarantine 2: Quarantined with His Hot Mom

Incestuous Tales of the Quarantine

Story Two: Quarantined with His Hot Mom

By mypenname3000

Copyright 2020

Note: Thanks to WRC264 for beta reading this!

Who would have thought having no school, playing video games, and masturbating to porn would get boring?

Three weeks into quarantine, and I missed doing things.

My mom was paranoid. She always made me use hand sanitizer and wear a mask. The only time I could leave the house was to go shopping with her. When did going to the grocery store with my mom become something to look forward to just to get out? To move and do shit.

I was horny all the time. There were no girls at all to hang around with. Porn was fine, but that wasn’t the same thing as being with a girl. I was eighteen, my hormones bursting through me. I just wanted to rut. To fuck. To get a simple handjob.

God, that would be nice.

I stumbled into the bathroom on what felt like day 501 of the quarantine but was really only day twenty-three. That didn’t seem like a long time, but our apartment wasn’t all that big. My room felt like a coffin. The living room a prison. Mom was always around.

My warden.

I had just woken up. Time was losing all meaning. I wasn’t sure what day of the week it was. All the daily routine that mattered, especially weekday versus weekend, had lost all meaning what so ever. Mom might have to work from home via the computer, but I just had to exist.

The urine streamed out as I blinked my eyes and stared at my phone. I browsed the tedium that was social media. All these dumb posts about staying home, staying safe. Some of the Instagram THOTs I followed were in crazy prepper mode like they were survivalist thinking the world was going to collapse.

Maybe it was.

I yawned and stretched. As I did, I spotted the pair of panties lying on the floor. They were red and made of silk. I blinked at that. Those couldn’t be my mom’s panties. They were too… sexy. They had black lace on the waistband.

“Fuck,” I groaned, my cock going full erect in a half a second. I swallowed as I stared at them. I snagged them up.

The fabric felt so smooth on my skin. Cool. Sleek. I rubbed across them and then held them up before me. They were cut narrow. They would show some butt-cheek in the back. These weren’t the sort of panties a mom should be wearing.

My dick throbbed and ached as I held them. I pictured my mom in them. I shuddered. She was a good-looking woman. I had always known that. She didn’t get fat like some of my friend’s moms. She stayed in shape. I supposed she was busty. I had a feeling a few of my friends liked to come around to ogle her, but they didn’t make it explicit.

Probably because they knew I’d kick their asses if they did.

I slid my fingers over the fabric some more. I heard the shower drip. There was still some condensation on the mirror. Mom must have missed picking up these panties when she finished taking her shower. I shuddered. She had just taken a shower, hadn’t she?

She had been wearing these recently.

My finger stroked down to the gusset. I felt the fabric that pressed against her pussy. My dick ached. Throbbed with such painful need. I had to cum. There was no stopping it. I swallowed, wanting to grab my cock.

But I was holding Mom’s panties. They were so nice. Felt so good. What would they feel like on my cock?

“Jesus,” I muttered, glancing at the door. It was locked. I could hear Mom bustling through the house. She was always doing something. Cleaning. Cooking. Working.

Wandering.

I brought my mom’s panties down to my dick. I shouldn’t be doing this, but I was so horny. So in need of something feminine. I wrapped the cloth around my dick. I shuddered at how cool the fabric felt on my hot cock. I wrapped my mom’s panties around my junk.

I stroked myself.

I closed my eyes as I ran that sleek fabric up and down my dick. I tried to think of anyone else. Some of the girls in my class. My busty English teacher who always wore the most low-cut dresses. Margo Robbie in that sexy Harley Quinn outfit from Suicide Squad, and not that garbage bag she wore in the second movie she was in. The delectable Scarlett Johansson in her skin-tight suit. I groaned, stroking faster and faster.

I thought of all those women, but who was it that kept intruding?

The owner of the panties.

Mom.

Smiling with brown, curly hair falling around her motherly face. She was seductive, wearing these panties and nothing else. Big boobs swaying naked. Nipples fat and hard. Her hips curving. Ass plump and looking hot.

“Mommy knows what you need, Eric,” whispered through my mind. “Mmm, your mommy knows how to please you.”

It wasn’t something I wanted to think about, but I couldn’t drive it away. I stroked the panties up and down my cock faster as I imagined my mother sauntering to me, her breasts swaying. So big and plump. A MILF in all the right ways.

“Just let Mommy suck on that cock,” she cooed in my mind. “Mommy will help you cum. I know. You can’t get those sluts at your school to do it right now. But I’m here. Let your Mommy make this easier for you.”

“Fuck,” I groaned, pumping faster with the panties.

In my mind, she kissed at the tip of my cock. Mom stared up at me, her brown eyes full of such desire. She grabbed my cock in one hand, fisting it. Her tongue swirled around the crown, stimulating it. My balls tightened.

I fisted my cock as fast as I could. The panties caressed my dick with cool delight. The pressure swelled in my balls. It was too hot. Too exciting. Incest. Her lips slid over the crown. She sealed them around my shaft and sucked hard.

I erupted.

I groaned as my cock pumped load after load of my cum into my mom’s panties. I shuddered, pleasure slamming into my mind. Mom moaned around my cock. She drank down my cum in my fantasy. She loved it.

“That’s just the best cum I’ve ever had,” she purred through my mind.

I hit the peak of my orgasm. I sucked in breaths, swaying. Darkness washed over my vision for a moment. As it cleared, I descended down into panting bliss. I sucked in deep breaths, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Fuck,” I groaned, sucking in deep breaths. I swallowed, shocked by what I had just imagined. It was insane. I didn’t just fantasize about that. I couldn’t have pictured mom doing that. I panted, my heart pounding.

Mom sucking my dick?

I stared down at the panties and groaned. Cum had bled through the fabric. More soaked it. I ripped it from my cock and thrust it under the faucet. I turned it on and washed my jizz off while I shuddered from the intensity of it.

I couldn’t remember the last time masturbating had felt that good. Thinking about my mom had set me off like nothing else. I panted, my heart throbbing. I glanced at myself in the mirror, my face flushed. I had a shadow of whiskers. I had shaved yesterday. I could probably shave again today. I ran a hand through my brown hair.

“Fuck,” I muttered, gripping the wet panties.

What to do with these?

I pulled on my boxers and then opened the bathroom door. Mom’s humming came from the living room. I swallowed and headed to her room. She had a clothes hamper in there. I slipped through the open door. Her bed was neatly made. There was a picture of my dad, killed when I was five over in Afghanistan, in his dress uniform on the dresser. A hamper was next to it. I opened it and dropped the panties in.

There was an even slinkier pair. I picked up this purple satin. It was a thong in the back but cut wide in the front. I held the dainty thing. My mom wore thongs? My dick throbbed in my boxers. My heart hammered.

“Eric,” Mom called. “I hear you moving around. Want some breakfast?”

“Yeah, Mom,” I gasped and bolted from her room before she found me. I ducked into mine, the thong still in hand.

I thrust it beneath my pillow, my dick already hard again. I shuddered and grabbed a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. I dressed quickly, wanting to masturbate again, but I could hear Mom making something for breakfast. If I didn’t go out there, she would come for me in here.

And if she found out I had stolen a pair of her panties.

I headed down the short hallway to the living room. The kitchen and little dining area were all one large space divided more by furniture. Mom was at the stove. She wore a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Nothing sexy, but my eyes were on her ass.

What sort of panties was she wearing? A thong? Something lacy? God, I couldn’t believe the sort of underwear she had. My dick pulsed and throbbed as I sank down on the couch and turned the TV on. I didn’t care what was on as I kept staring at her cooking.

“So,” she said, her back still to me, “you going to do any schoolwork?”

I rolled my eyes. My school had assigned a bunch of pointless busywork. It was even more useless than most of the time. “Maybe.”

“No maybe,” she said, turning around. Her t-shirt fit tight around her torso. Her breasts were big. They had a perkiness to them. Was she wearing a push-up bra? My dick throbbed. If she had on sexy panties, her bra must be a matching affair. She wagged a spatula at me that had bits of scrambled eggs stuck on it. “You’re going to get it done.”

“Yeah,” I said. “After breakfast.”

“You better,” she said and then turned around, her hair swaying.

Ideas popped in my head of just coming up on mom and saying something corny like, “Here’s a better way of passing time in quarantine: worshiping my dick!”

It was something straight out of porn. It made me so hard. I closed my eyes, seeing her in the thong now. The cloth vanished in between her bubbly butt-cheeks. Her bra lifting her tits into a jiggling shelf of cleavage. Her nipples pressed on the material, just needing me to pull the cloth down and suck on them.

Then I could bury my face between them. A set of tits that big needed to be worshiped. Motor-boated. My sweaty hands rubbed on my shorts. My balls ached with another load of cum that needed releasing. The itch tingled across the tip of my cock.

I didn’t want to masturbate. I wanted—

“Breakfast is done,” Mom said. “Go wash your hands.”

I snapped my eyes open and groaned. “Yes, Mom.”

“And no sass.” She waggled the spatula again.