Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 I watch your breasts over dinner, self-conscious at first, trying to
maintain eye contact, but every so often, you make a little motion that
indicates I should watch them instead.  They stand out beautifully in a top
that doesn't entirely hide your nipples.  I listen to your voice and answer
to them until you run your hand across the flesh of the left one.

   "Mommy," I sigh.

   "Sweetheart?"

   "They're beautiful."

   "Shame you already ate," you tell me and, standing, left your plate from
the table.  "I bought something for you today," you say from the kitchen.

   "What?" I ask, dying to ask to be fucked, which I know will make you
happy, dying for anything that would involve your touch or the dark side of
your love.

   "It's on the bed upstairs," you say nonchalantly.

   I leave my plate on the table and climb up to the bedroom.  Laid out
across the bed is a pair of white panties, white stockings, and a white
dress with a very large black bow around it as a belt, tied at the back.  A
pair of white heels rest at the foot of the bed.

   "Mommy?" I call down the stairs.  No answer.  I stare at the clothing,
too aroused, shaking even, to roll my eyes or blow off the desires that
pulsed through me.  I stumble into the clothing, my cock leaking onto the
inside of the dress, the stockings, into the panties, everything.  The
shoes, I try them on but they don't fit.  Squirming my foot back in forth,
I finally get it in but struggle and consider not wearing them but know you
wouldn't have picked them out for us if you didn't want to see me in them,
didn't want me in them.

   So I stumble downstairs, dressed in white with a black bow around my
back and I see you on the sofa your left hand fiddling with your iPod and
your right stroking the tip of a large cock, strapped to your waist.

   "Mommy," I breathe and close on you, kissing you diving into you my
hands on your breasts my tongue in your mouth, my cock growing inside the
panties.  Forgetting the roleplay scenarios I had in my head, I groan, "I
fucking need you."

   "You need who?"

   "Beth," I say, unthinking.

   "Bitch," you say and push the coffee table back with your foot and then
spread your legs.  You look at the cock strapped to your waist then back to
me, then back the cock, miming increased confusion at my reluctance to do
what you want.  "Three," you say in a voice that's barely a whisper.  My
mouth envelops your shaft just as the word "two" leaves your mouth. 
"That's a good boy," you say.  "Suck mommy's cock good." You drop your hand
to my hair and toy with it, your eyes glancing down with detached passion
and satisfaction.

   I play at deep-throating your cock but can't manage to take it to the
base.  After three attempts, I look up at you.  "Again," you say.  I try
again and fail.  "Please fuck me, mommy?" I ask.

   You lift up your top, exposing your breasts and I grab it, pulling it
off you, and immediately fall to them, not sucking but nibbling with my
lips, clumsily straddling your lap and half falling onto the floor, your
cock pressing into my belly.  When the first of the milk hits the inside of
my mouth, I shudder and quickly grasping the rhythm of it suck out more and
more as my hand explores your cock, worming underneath it to rub your pussy
as best I can.  I quickly drain the first breast and switch to the next.

   "Robert," you say.  "Robert, please stop.  Mommy can't . .. ..  "

   I ignore you, drinking from your right breast until the wetness between
your thighs and your gasps slow to a loud, humming purr.  "Mommy wants to
get fucked," you say with throaty warmth.

   I lift my face and look at you.  "My pussy hasn't been touched . .. . 
all . . .  day," I pout.

   A feral look arises in your eyes.  "Upstairs," you say.

   I run upstairs, my dick shrinking inside my girly panties, thrills of
excitement running through my body.  I consider disrobing but quickly
decide against it.  You're already behind me before I can plan out how to
set the scene, your hands moving over my stomach, warm words in my ears.  I
half tense and half relax then pull away from you with a smile and sit on
the edge of the bed.

   "I have to pee," I say.

   "Did mommy's milk fill you up?"

   I nod.

   "You can pee when you're ready, but not now.  Right now, mommy needs
some asshole."

   I stare, understanding, rising enough to squirm out of my panties as you
retrieve the lube from the dresser, motion for me to life my legs, insert
the nozzle into my rectum and pump a generous amount of fluid inside.  I
lift my legs and you catch them, holding my ankles up in your hand.  Your
hands run around under my skirt, felling the insides of my thighs, the
parts of me that make your hold over me complete.  My breath rises and
falls in ragged gasps.  The dildo edges at the entrance to my shithole.

   "Have you been keeping your asshole tight for me," you ask and press
into me.  A loud groan rises in my throat.  Your cock quickly begins to
work its magic on my insides, drawing moans and sighs and quivers from my
body and mouth.

   "My pussy loves your cock so bad," I moan.  "Throw it at me.  I can take
it."

   You raise your eyebrows and start fucking me fast and hard.

   "Fuck me, fuck me goddess," I grunt guttery, urging you on with crass
words until something overtakes me and my head flops back to the bed, eyes
rolling back into their sockets.  "Oh, Beth.  Beth?  Fuck me?  " Sinking
into the screw, I begin to mew to you excitedly, "Yeah, that's it, take my
ass.  Take my ass and make it yours.  You fuck me so good, mistress.  You
make my pussy feel sooo good." Right then your hand reaches under my skirt
and begins to caress my cock.  "Oh Fuck!" I scream and began to buck at
your touch, trying to get away from you, trying to get away from the
pleasure of your pounding cock.  You fuck me mercilessly, taking me to the
edge of orgasm, listening to my cries and wails until . . .  you stop.

   Your hand falls away but the thrusting continues.  Suddenly conscious of
my desire to piss, I remain silent and let you fuck me.  When I begin
farting on your cock, you pull out.

   "Shower?" I ask.

   You nod with a feverish look about you.

   I strip out of my dress and climb into the tub, bending over and placing
my palms on the opposite wall.  You enter me again, thrusting into my
swollen, lubed, dark hole.  A more staccato moaning and gasping cries from
my mouth as I begin to shit on your cock.  It runs down the back of my legs
and you turn and plops to the shower floor.  Just when I think I might find
relief, your hand returns to my cock and the blood flow returns.

   "Oh, God, please.  Please.  Please no," I whine, bucking helplessly back
against you.  You cut the shower on and the need becomes overwhelming.  But
you don't need to cum, you don't need to piss.  You just need to fuck me,
and you don't stop, and you don't stop let me out of the haze of pleasure
and desperate, needing humiliation.  My feet begin to falter on the shower
floor.

   "Fucking bitch," you say, steadying me.  "That cock feels good, doesn't
it?"

   "Beth, make me . .. .  " I don't even know how to finish that sentence
and urine floods from me onto the shower floor.

   You wordlessly pull out of me and begin to clean me, kissing me, gently
reassuring me with your tenderness.  When I'm dry and clean, I return to
the bedroom and lie down, cock rock hard.  You crawl over me and slide your
disgustingly wet cunt around my dick, and rock slowly to a shuddering
orgasm.