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I was justly rewarded. I came home most days to a quick blowjob before Dad got home. On the weekends, Mom let me get her outside and allowed me to lead her around the side for a blowjob in front of the trellis, sometimes twice a day. Perhaps Mom was so generous because real piano practice was now being taken more seriously as the date for the recital was near. We truly practiced music in our sessions. But on one occasion, I followed Mom and waited on the blind side of the wall as she bowed and curtsied to Dad's applause. As soon as she came into the hallway, I took her into my arms and kissed her. The near proximity to my father must have lit a fuse because she very passionately returned my kiss and my hand was under her skirt by the time we finished. Mom's face was very flushed and excited and, for the first time in an evening, we snuck out to the trellis where I ate her pussy. I stood and pulled my cock out, ready to put it in her mouth, but she got up from her knees and slipped. “Get up,” I whispered in her ear. “I want you on the table.” “Wait, please…I, I can’t. I’m married. We shouldn't” “Really? You want me to stop,” I asked as I gripped her down onto the bulge in my pants. “Because I want to put you on that table and take your pussy. I want to abuse it. I want to make you moan, and shake, and cum. And then we never have to talk about it ever again if you don’t want to.” Still confused, she stood and moved to the table in the back of our office. She sat with her legs hanging over the edge, propping herself up on her hands, looking down at me over her massive tits. I sat on a chair in front of her and slid my hands up her legs to take hold of her panties. Then in a sharp movement, snatched them down from her hips and tossed them on the floor. I pushed her skirt up to show me her aching box, and lost regard for tenderness. The heel of my hand pressed firmly on her mound, and two fingers immediately pressed then entire length into her pussy. I heard her.
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