Daughter's Slut - S01 E12

Story 10 hours ago

Daughter's Slut - S01 E12

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 12

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Mrs. Umayyah

I brought my pussy-soaked fingers to Leyla's mouth. I came so hard watching my husband fuck her ass, finally getting to experience that anal treat I'd never offered him in the two decades of our marriage. The delight his youngest son had plundered from me this evening.

But I was just helping Jalal. I wasn't a slut like Leyla.

The girl sucked on my fingers with such whorish enthusiasm, cleaning my juices off with relish. I leaned over, kissing my husband, feeling his scratchy beard on my face. My pussy was still so hot. So wet. Watching them had stimulated me.

I pulled my fingers from my daughter's suckling mouth and broke the kiss with my husband. “You enjoy her tonight. I'll be in her bed, letting you have all the fun you want.”

“You are full of surprises, Jawdat.”

I smiled at him. “A wife should always have a few surprises for her husband.”

I rolled off the bed, rising, my big breasts jiggling beneath my robe. My nipples so hard, tingling as they rasped against the terrycloth. I shivered, hearing Leyla moan behind me as I slipped out of the master bedroom.

I walked down the hallway, pussy juices soaking my bush. That hot itch tingled through me. I reached Faizel's door, his room dark. I bet he needed satisfaction. And Leyla wasn't available right now. She was too busy with her father. And the sounds they made...

My eldest son would be so hard. At twenty, he would be so virile. So in need of a woman to relieve his pressure. He shouldn't have to use his hand. And he wasn't out with those American whores he usually dated from school.

This didn't make me a slut. Just a good mother.

I shrugged out of my bathrobe, letting it fall into a bundle around my feet, unveiling my naked body. I felt so wicked as I opened the door, a good wife and mother pretending to be a little slut like Leyla. I shivered, my pussy itching so badly as I slipped into Faizel's room. I spotted his form on his bed, his chest painted in silver band by the light streaming through his window, highlighting the muscular frame playing sports had given him.

I licked my lips as I crossed the room, big tits jiggling. My nipples so hard. My pussy so wet and juicy. I reached his bed, crawling on it. My tits swayed as I stared down at his body. He wore flannel pajama bottoms, his cock a hard bulge in them.

Poor thing. He definitely needed his mother.

I pushed my hand into his pajama bottoms, finding his hard dick. I gripped him, his shaft so hot. He felt as big as his father. He'd please his wife as much as Karim had pleased me over the years. I needed to find him the perfect Muslim woman to be his wife. Not those American skanks he dated from the college we attended.

Svetlana, his current girlfriend, had all the earmarks of a slut like Leyla.

I stroked my son's dick with one hand, the other caressing his muscular chest. I smiled at him, feeling his muscles as he shifted. He let out a groan, his dick throbbing in my hand. I rubbed my thumb across the tip, precum beading out. I smeared the slick juices across his head.

“Leyla,” he groaned, eyes opening. “Finished with Dad, you little slut?”

“I'm your mother, not a slut!” I told him, being so stern. His dick twitched in my hand.

“Mom?” he groaned.

“I'm just making sure you're not in discomfort. And you're so hard. You poor thing. Mommy will make sure everything is fine. I'll jerk off your dick so you can sleep in peace.”

“Fuck, Mom,” he groaned, his dick throbbing in my grip.

I pulled down his pajama bottom, revealing his big, thick cock to the moonlight. I pumped up and down it, my hand a few shades lighter than his skin. I leaned forward, my breasts swaying before me. His hand reached out, cupping my soft tit.

“You naughty boy,” I moaned as he squeezed and kneaded my breast. My pussy grew hotter and hotter. I should just give him a handjob. Just so he could sleep. I wasn't here to fuck him. Leyla could do that for her brothers.

Juices trickled down my thighs as he groped my big tit. His hand so strong, rough with callouses from playing sports. I loved it. Not the delicate touch of Jalal, my baby boy. But strong and virile like his father's. He looked so much like Karim when we first met and fell in love. I stared at my son's cheek.

He'd look so handsome with a beard.

“Mom,” he groaned, my hand flying up and down my son's dick. “This is so hot.”

“Don't get that excited,” I purred, my hips wiggling. His fingers found my nipple, pinching the fat nub he used to suckle on. “I'm just helping you out while your slut-sister is busy.”

“Uh-huh,” he panted, his dick throbbing, twitching. “Right, Mom. Just helping out. That's why your nipple is so hard.”

“Well, you're just so sexy,” I purred, stroking his dick faster and faster, fighting the urge to just impale my cunt down on his cock like a slut.

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