[FONT=times new roman, new york, times, serif]fantasy-pornography by MomBanger
Carol already knew she was the trashiest whore in town. Not that the bitch was about to complain: She was absolutely craven for degradation and getting very roughly fucked. And it wasn’t at all surprise that the slattern was able to take lot and lots of cocks – because at forty-two, the light-brunette still was a hot collection of holes, with a pretty face, a round crapper, shaped legs and nicely-sized honkers. And there was only an ounce or two of baby fat on her. Bodily and otherwise slaggily, she was a great piece of ass.
Just maybe, though, her good-looking husband, Tom, had been partly to blow. He’d liked to thoroughly put his sleazy wife through her submissive paces in ways that shamed her to the max. The only problem was that Carol had loved it… and now Tom was gone, having died three months earlier.
Withought him, the little suck-and-fuck-slob felt lost, even more obviously so considering that her sudly, blond and twenty-one-year-old son, Rod, had elected to live full-time on campus at the university on the far side of the city.
Beyond that, the sexy, little fuck-ass couldn’t quite muster the courage to go out to bars and find dominants to give her the debasement for which her cunt wept with need… she resorted to slutting around online.
No doubt about it, Carol received plenty of attention, though she was most captured by a young master whose ‘net handle’ was ‘skank_trasher.’
Shame, of course, was the dirty cow’s bread and butter, only serving to shamelessly arouse her due to the vulgar way the young man dealt with her. One of the first things he told her, in fact, was that ‘he’d rather piss in her vag than have any respect for her as a slut’. Oh, how hearing that stoked the fires in her wicked loins!
And ‘skank_trasher’ showed the troll no mercy, verbally abusing and insulting her with viler names than even her husband had used… until Carol could hardly believe how her online derogator said that – among other things – she ‘was a morally stinky, fuck-shit slut-pig’ and ‘the lowest piece of filter he’d ever known’. That had her vag-gash absolutely drooling with liquid smut – especially since he’d shown her photos of his hard, beautiful 8 X 3 1/2-inched cock!
Carol had nonetheless said, “Well, I’ll have to think about it” the first time her online master had ordered her to meet him at The Journeyman’s Hotel. But he’d been independent, and after a month of chatting, the sleaze-bag finally agreed to see him at the hotel at 9 on a Friday night.
” ‘Now, you’re starting to act like the stupid-ass scag you are, bitch!… don’t wear anything but black fishnets and your highest-heeled shoes under a coat. I want you looking lower than a common hooker, sleaze-bag’!” was the command ‘skank_trasher’ gave her.
Carol obeyed, though she wasn’t sure what she was getting into, while instinct told her that she was headed straight into the wildest and hottest night of her life.
Right on time – as instructed – the harlotish woman knocked three times on the door of Room 23, under which she could see a strip of light. There was no answer, and Carol pushed the door open…
… whereupon a hand grabbed her, jerked her inside and throw her up against the wall next the door closed by a foot. Before she knew it, a ball gag was in her mouth…
… only for the middle-aged tart to look up into the mockingly grinning face of her son Rod.
“Yeah, mom, I could always tell you’re just a low-life piece of trash!” grew the naked hunk, then shashing his lips against hers for the most humiliating kiss she’d ever been given.
Rod next slapped her face before flipping her coat open, taking her hair in his left hand and aiming his hard-on at her front opening with his right one.
Carol shrieked behind the ball-gag as her disrespectful son ripped his dick into her twat to his nuts and started a pile-driving fuck.
“Filthy, fucking bitch, filter slut! Yeah! Fuck you, mom, if you’ve never been raped before, it’s time for that from your loving son!” Rod went on taunting her. “That’s right you worthless ‘ho-bag, you piece of fucking bitch-shit!”
His verbal trashing was unbelievable – and never in her life had Carol taken such a vicious loin-battering, to say nothing of being so forcedly used by anyone other than her deceased husband.
Thedirty pig started making a variety of excited noises while her twat-juice streamed down her legs. And it wasn’t long until orgasms began ripping through her with a delight as vicious as the hammering her son was giving her.
Sensing that, Rod pulled out to his dick-head and cruelly bashed his pizzle all the way in, until his mother felt her high heels almost leaving the floor. Again, again and again, he did that…
… for Carol was nothing but a set of holes, a piece of fuck-meat and piece of trash to her own son! As he continued having her, he casually looked down into her eyes in a way that told her he had no regard for her feelings except to make her feel as utterly defined and determined as he might be able while a steady stream of vile-mouthed insults ccontinued assaulting her.
Rod hadn’t been born out of wedlock… “but my son’s a bastard, a real fucking bastard!” Carol’s mind screamed, while her muff-cavern spat more of its orgasmic juices onto the floor.
He went on and on, relentlessly fuck-abusing the slag, until he let out a roar and slammed his seed of pollution seemingly all the way up into “the filthy skank of her womb” as Rod had sometimes referred to it during chats.
He withdraw, slapped her left boob, pulled her away from the wall, took the gag out of her mouth, ripped the coat off her and flung his mother to her back on the bed behind him.
Before the cunt knew it, Rod mounted her face and pissed a bladder-full down her throat. That done, he flipped her face-down, with Carol moaning, grunting, wailing and panting as he worked a dildo into her dung-pussy.
Once done with that, he slammed his palm against her left dumper-pad as harshly as he could and barked: “Stay put! Your night isn’t over and I’ll be back, whore!”
Rod next pulled a pair of his briefs over her head, and Carol heard him dressing before he left the room.
The cock-hog had no idea when, with what or with whom. But deep into her slutty guts, the hussy knew he’d be back… and that was all that mattered! Son-rape was the best!
(to be continued)
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