I Fucked My Son Before He Became A Priest : Mommy’s Creampies 5

My son Peter was on the path to become a Catholic priest, but before he does there’s one thing he wants to try.  Sex!  He’s never done it before and wants to know what it’s like.  As his mother I decide that there’s only one person who can take my son’s virginity, and that’s me!

He puts on his robe and we sneak into the church to do something sinful.  Read how he takes me at the altar and fills me with his love.  I hope God forgives us!

Read An Excerpt

“Mom,” he said cautiously.

“It’s okay, honey,” I said.  “Let me help you.”

I stroked back and forth along him now, mapping out the length of his dick as though I was completely blind to it.

“How do we get at that thing?” I giggled.

Peter started to lift his robe and that seemed like an admission of compliance.  He pulled up his robe to reveal a pair of pants beneath.

“Jeez, how many layers do you have on?!”

“Just those two,” he said, laughing softly.

“This is just so you can see what it’s like,” I said.

“I know.”

I repeated that thought in my mind: that this was only a favor to Peter and nothing more.  If I kept up the pretence I could ignore that this was something I was desperate for too.  If you’d seen it you’d find it tough to ignore too.  Son or not, that thing in his pants was a monster and I had to see more of it.

“Take down your pants,” I hushed.

Peter swallowed and I did too.  The pair of us was nervous and for good reason, but if he really wanted to know what it was like now was his chance.  I don’t think I’d ever be this crazy again in my life.

He unfastened his belt and I heard the metal clink beneath his gown.  Before long he was pushing down the waist of his pants and I was staring at those muscled, athletic legs of his as they became visible.

“Fuck,” I hushed, putting a hand to my mouth soon after.

“Don’t worry,” Peter said.  “Much worse things have been said in here.”

I doubted that much worse things had been done in there.  I helped Peter step out of his pants and then I saw his boxer-shorts appear beneath the robe.

They fell down his legs and I knew now that he was totally naked, were it not for the vestments that covered him.

Peter looked down as my hand ventured up the front of skirt, exploring out of sight and sliding up over his hairy, muscled thighs.

He put a hand back on one of the steps and tightened up, just as I felt the hair turn thicker and coarser before I eventually found my way around his cock.

I could scarcely grip my hand around it.  It was so thick that even its outline hadn’t prepared me for it.  I took a deep, shaky breath and moved my hand slowly, looking to Peter’s face to study the nervous euphoria that was spreading slowly across it.

“I want to see,” he whispered.

I lifted his robe up higher and Peter took it, folding it back on itself until he could look over it and to the thick slab of flesh that sat on his waist.

It looked surreal to see him naked from the waist down, and when I looked to his face the whole thing was even more jarring.  I mean—it was my son.  My son was sat right there on the stairs of the church and his huge, hard cock was gripped in my hands.

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