Chapter 8
The words sent a jolt of electricity through her. Jasmine had never felt more alive than she did right now, her son's cock in her mouth and her own fingers working magic on her body. She moaned around him, the vibrations sending shockwaves through his shaft.
"Yes, Mom," he hissed, his hips bucking slightly. "Keep sucking."
Hearing her son say those words was like gasoline on a bonfire. Jasmine's arousal grew with every passing second, the taboo nature of their encounter only stoking the flames higher. Her cheeks were flushed, her breaths coming in short, ragged bursts. She could feel him swell in her mouth, his grip on her hair tightening, his breaths becoming more erratic.
Her hand moved faster between her legs, her thumb rubbing her clit with increasing urgency. Jasmine knew that she was close, so close to coming, and the idea of doing so while her son watched, while she had his cock in her mouth, was unbearably erotic.
"I'm gonna cum," he warned, his voice strained. Jasmine felt her own orgasm approaching, a crescendo of sensation that threatened to consume her. She braced herself, her body taut as a bowstring.
And then it hit her, a wave of pleasure so intense that it stole her breath away. Jasmine's eyes rolled back in her head, her body convulsing around her hand as she came, her pussy clenching in a spasm of pure bliss. Through the haze of pleasure, she felt him tense, his cock pulsing as he shot his load into her mouth. She swallowed reflexively, the taste of him strange and yet somehow familiar.
Her cheeks hollowed as she worked her mouth, eager to get every last drop. Jasmine's tongue danced around the head of his cock, lapping up the sticky cum that clung to him, savoring the salty taste. Dante's eyes never left hers, his own orgasm reflected in the way his pupils dilated. His hand, still in her hair, began to stroke her cheek, a gentle touch that sent shivers down her spine.
As he grew softer, Jasmine's mouth followed suit, kissing his cock tenderly as if it were a part of her. She could feel him growing more sensitive with each lingering press of her lips, his moans turning to sighs of contentment. The moment was intimate, a silent confession of the desires that had been festering between them.
Slowly, Jasmine pulled away, her eyes never leaving his. She stood up, her legs unsteady, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. The room was silent except for the sound of their ragged breaths. Jasmine's heart hammered in her chest, the gravity of what they had just done crashing down upon her.
"Dante," she breathed, her voice thick with emotion.
He stepped closer, cupping her face in his hands. "Mom," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "That was...amazing."
Jasmine's cheeks burned, and she couldn't hold his gaze for long. She looked away, her eyes darting around the room as if searching for a way to escape the situation. Jasmine felt his thumb trace her bottom lip, the sensation sending another ripple of pleasure through her. She swallowed hard, trying to find the strength to resist.
Jasmine's eyes snapped back to his, searching for any sign of regret, of understanding. But what she found instead was a hunger that mirrored her own, a desire that seemed to grow with every beat of her heart.
"I... I should go," she managed to choke out, her voice a trembling whisper. Jasmine turned away from him, her body a symphony of conflicting emotions – the thrill of the taboo mingling with the crushing weight of guilt.
As she walked away, her hips swayed with a newfound sensuality, her legs feeling like they belonged to a woman who had just discovered a part of herself she never knew existed. The way her dress clung to her curves, the sway of her ass as she moved, it was as if he could see every inch of her, as if she was naked before him once.
Dante watched her retreating form, his eyes drinking in the sight of her, committing every detail to memory. His mother's legs seemed to go on forever, the muscles in her calves flexing with each step, leading up to the curve of her ass that had haunted his fantasies for so long. The way she held herself, the subtle arch of her back, it was as if she was offering herself up to him, a sacrifice to the gods of lust and temptation.
Jasmine paused at the doorway, her hand on the frame, and for a moment, Dante thought she might turn back. But she didn't. Instead, she took a deep breath and slipped away, leaving him alone in the living room with the scent of their passion lingering in the air.
Author's Note
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