Mom Let Me Fuck You

Mom Let Me Fuck You


Summer
Ocho Rios, Jamaica.


Three pairs of eyes ogled the round ass, and the exposed shapely thighs, of the woman busying herself at the stove. Beautiful; she stood at five feet five inches, a hundred and thirty five pounds. A mixture of Caucasian and Indian she had blonde hair reaching almost to the middle of her slender back, golden brown eyes, and a figure any young woman would crave for. At thirty-four, Jacqueline, has the sweet face of a sixteen year old but the slender albeit bountifully develop curves in all the right places, of a woman. Hell! She looked only nineteen. She was so fucking hot she exuded sexual appeal without even trying.

Her three sons continued to silently undress her with their eyes. It was very easy to do. She wore a thin white blouse that hugged her upper body and very short, very tight, black jeans shorts that left little to the imagination of her curves, her ass and the very puff print of her pussy. If she only knew the thoughts going through their heads right now, she would have been more than appalled at her sons. As a triplet they were close. Each knew everything about each other. They were more than best friends. Not that they would put it that way. (Real men no deal with no sissy, {mimicking high pitched girl’s voice},”best friends” round here.) But they loved each other very dearly and have said it once in a while. NOT OFTEN. They all knew they would very much like to ravage their mother. They’d jacked off to fantasies of her many times, but they’ve been careful never to discuss how much they really wanted to fuck her, she’s their mother!, but almost all the time, they’ve openly raped her body with their eyes. She never saw this; of course, she either wasn’t looking or had her back turned to them when they did this, as was happening now.

All three were identical. At seventeen, they stood six feet, one. They were much chiseled and muscular as they were encouraged very early to engage actively in sports and they would work out on weekends. They had black hair, (inherited from their Italian father, who died when they were three) and sparkling blue eyes. ( Sometimes girls would tell them they looked almost like girls, as their eyelashes were really long and their pink lips look absolutely sweet).

As a respected and powerful fashion executive, Jacqueline, had never had the time to really spend with her boys. I mean she was always there, for all the important things when going up but, lately she haven’t been able to, you know watch TV or eat breakfast with them. So it was more than a pleasure for her to cook their breakfast, on this morning.

She presented them each with a steaming plate of 3 fried dumplings, fried ripe plantains, and a small amount of peppered ackee and a good size serving of calaloo with salted fish. Each got a hot cup of blue mountain coffee along with a cool glass of orange juice.
Each watched her bouncing ass as she left the room.
“Is it Adam picking us up or …” Brian started to ask, as he finished his coffee. He was the oldest.
“Said he’d be here at ten” Kevin interrupted. He was the second oldest.
“That’s in fifteen minutes. Did you pack everything?” Brian directed at his younger brother. “Hey. Hey. Kid. Yo Alex!” He demanded, trying to get his brother’s undivided attention. “Hmm”, Alex murmured gazing out the glass window.
“Did you pack everything?” he asked him once again.
“Hmm Mmmh”, they heard him mumble absentmindly. Brian exchange glances with Kevin. What’s up with him? , they thought, for normally he was the one who looked most forward to their trips to Negril.
“I’ll check the bags.” Kevin volunteered, eyeing his brother.

“Why aren’t you dressed yet? Aren’t you coming with us? Kevin questioned, clearly perplexed.
“No.”
“Why?” Brian asked entering the hallway, bringing his bag with him.
“I feel lazy today.” Alex answered. Kevin eyebrows slowly ascended his forehead and Brian stood a few seconds staring, quickly pondering what Alex might be up to. I feel lazy. What the fuck. It wasn’t like Alex. Brian knew he was definitely up to something, he could feel it. He knew Alex well. While all brothers were mischievous, daring and a badass (Not that they would call it that. For they were brought up to be articulate and act as gentlemen). Alex was the worst of them all. He was witty and mostly used his handsomeness and charm to cunningly seduce even the most levelheaded of women.