Loving Mom; Loving Son

I recently wrote up the following, but the events all occurred in late 2008, 12 years ago. I wrote this with the encouragement of mom — and my wife — two of the world’s most amazing women.

December 2008:

Mom is not just hot, she is, provably, beautiful. At 5ft 10in and still weighing in at around 120lbs, she is the perfect height and has a perfect figure for modelling clothes. Not only that, but I know she wears 34DD bras, so she is tall, slim and carries an enviable stack. She also has naturally blonde, naturally wavy hair, piercing dark blue eyes and full red lips in a heart-shaped face.

OK, that is all my opinion — so the proof?

Back when she was 18, her first job was modelling casual wear for a local mail order catalogue. 6 months later, she was head hunted to model casual wear, nightwear and lingerie for a bigger, national mail order catalogue and she has been modelling for them ever since, adding Lycra sportswear to her range when that became popular.

At 48 she still occasionally models for them, though now it is more on-line than printed catalogue, but she still has the figure to show off whatever she wears and make other women want to buy — especially now that women her age have moved into the Lycra day wear ranges.

You have your proof. Nobody models for a national mail order and on-line chain unless they are beautiful and to model for them for nearly 30 years is additional proof.

But, let one of my girlfriends have the last word on mom’s beauty. We were both second years at college when she came to ours to stay over and, once when we were alone, she said:

“Jake, you know I’m straight, right? I just have to say that your mom is so sexy, I get wet just listening to her talk and, when she looks into my eyes, I almost come. I could change my ways if she crooked her finger and asked me to bed.”

To top it off, mom graduated in law “summa cum laude”, at a top university and, this year, was made a senior partner at her law firm.

So, she is beautiful, intelligent, and very smart and I just cannot figure why dad left back in January. Even I could see there had been something wrong but, after 26 years together, they could surely have sorted things out? Neither he nor mom have been willing to explain, but dad has always said it was his choice, not mom’s choice, and that he would explain, one day.

So, who am I?

Well, I am Jake.

Born almost 25 years ago and built like my dad, at 6ft 3in and 220lbs. Like him, I played football for my high school and am in the football squad at my university, though I am studying aeronautical engineering, whereas he, like mom, had studied law.

Today is a mid-December Friday, I have been back from university for 3 days and mom is heading off to the senior partners Christmas meal. No husbands or wives, just the firm’s senior partners and one or two special invitees. She hadn’t seemed thrilled at the prospect of going but saw it as a duty and said she was going to really dress up, for the first time since dad walked out on her.

Mom had been a special invitee last year and that was where she was told that she would become a senior partner with effect from 1st January. Massively increased responsibility but a 50% increase in her salary and she would receive a bigger annual share allocation. I had never seen her so excited after she came home that night but, for some reason, dad did not seem as pleased and, a month later, he was gone.

Tonight, I am just chilling at home, waiting for all the old gang to get back in town, so we can party “like it’s 1999”. As I’m in my last year and have been studying hard, I’ve sort of kept clear of emotional entanglements and haven’t had a girlfriend since the summer break. So, I’m here alone, hoping the old gang still wants to get together, as Christmas approaches.

I heard mom coming down the stairs. I know she’ll want to know how she looks, so I jump up and stand over by the window as she makes her entrance.

“Wow!”

That was all I could say when she walked in. Beautiful is a given, with mom, but tonight she was extra especially beautiful. Her hair, her make-up, her dress, her shoes were all fabulous and she looked the proverbial million dollars. Open mouthed I looked her up and down, then down and up, then slowly back up and down. As I gazed, intently, I was sure I could see her nipples hardening and lengthening to show clearly through her silk blouse.

“Mom, you look stunning, lovely, beautiful — all those words ten times over. You look perfect, absolutely perfect. And sexy! Jeez, if you are ever stuck for a date, you only have to ask me. I would be the proudest man on earth, walking into somewhere with you on my arm. You would be a perfect hot date.”

“Jake! Thank you. A little over the top, maybe, but you are very sweet, and I know I’m just your old mom, but it always makes a girl happy to be complimented so nicely.”

“Old mom? No way! You are beautiful and you look so young, nobody would imagine you have a 24yr old son. My future girlfriends will have such a hard time competing with you.”

“Well, thank you, but that sounds like my taxi so I’ll be off. No need to wait up, it may be a late one.”

“Whoa. Have you got an after-dinner date?”

“I wish. It is just that those old guys play hard ball and the first to leave is a cissy! See you in the morning.”

With that, she was gone. Her perfume lingered in the air and my mind replayed her look as she had stood by the door. Was it just my imagination, or, as I scanned up and down then back again, had her nipples really started to show through her blouse? I know she likes underwired, soft cup bras and I have noticed her nipples before, when she came in from the cold or was excited about something.

It was warm in here, so had she been excited about my obvious appreciation of how she looked?

By now, I was rock hard, tenting out my shorts and, with nothing else planned, it seemed like a good time to re-visit mom’s lingerie drawer and the washing hamper.

Some hours later, I was sat on my bed, reading a book on aeronautical development (yes, I’m a geek) when I heard a car pull up outside. It was only 11:30, which seemed early for mom to be getting back, but it was a taxi and, as I looked through my window, I saw mom get out, quickly followed by the driver. I heard her say that she didn’t need his help, but he came up close behind her and said something, but I couldn’t hear what he said.

Quickly, I rushed down and opened the front door. There was clearly an argument about to start but, when he saw me — 6ft 2in and 220lbs – he just turned and left.

Mom literally threw herself at me and held me tight.

“Thank God you were here. I have had the most awful night and that creep would have tried to rape me, I’m sure.”

With that, my smart, intelligent and tough mom started to cry and the only thing I could do was carry her to the living room and sit her in my lap as I tried to comfort her and stop the tears. After a few minutes, when she had calmed down, she sat up and said: “I’m going to get some wine”.

She came back in, poured two glasses and surprised me with “Can I sit back on your knee? It made me feel safer than I have for years” and, without waiting for an answer, she gently lowered herself, flicking out the back hem of her skirt, as she sat down and wriggled around to get herself comfortable.

We sat quietly and I asked why the night had been so awful.

“The Christmas meal is when they invite partners who they are going to promote to senior partner. It is a massive achievement, and I was so excited when I was invited last year. I think your dad knew more about it than me and he wasn’t happy, feeling that the expanded role would be too much for me.

“Little did I know what that extended role would include — but I think your dad may have known.

“We re-started on the first Monday of the New Year and, the very next day, I received a message from Masterson’s secretary that he wanted to speak to me about my new responsibilities and she asked me to hang around until he called, but that it may be late. I let your dad know and told him to get home; I’d see him later.

“It was after 7 when Masterson called me and asked me to come up to his office. It was a bit strange, because he’d called himself and, when I got up there, his outer office was empty.”

“Is Masterson the one you call The Creep?”

“Yes, and soon you’ll know why.

“I knocked and went in, he gave me a glass of champagne, sat me down on his big, very comfortable sofa — then he went out and locked the door to the outer office, came back in and locked his office door. He smiled and said that he just wanted to make sure we would not be disturbed.

“He was charm personified. We chatted, drank champagne. He complimented me on my appointment, said how impressed he had been by my successes. He made me laugh — but then he added that it was a bonus to have such an attractive member in his top team, which I thought was a bit of a weird thing to say, and the look in his eyes when he said it was very direct.

“He then said the other senior members had been unsure about appointing me but that he had, eventually, persuaded them to allow my appointment on the grounds that he would, personally, assist my progress.

“Then he said that, as he was going to help me, he would hope that I would help him. When I asked how, he just smiled and said he thought we could find something I could help with.”

“This is sounding creepy, mom. Isn’t Masterson ancient?”

“Not quite ancient. He is in his seventies, very grey haired but attractive, with a good figure, still standing tall and, if I was older — a lot older — I could see myself being attracted to him. His patrician charm and his abundant wealth would make him a good catch if, as I said, you were old enough.

“Anyway, back to the office: He held out his hand, stood me up and walked through the office, along a short passage and into a room with a hot tub. He said this was where he liked to relax, and he’d like me to help him relax.

“I just stood still. I couldn’t speak. I was horrified and I didn’t know what to do. He slowly started undressing himself, focussing his eyes on mine, willing me to undress myself. Eventually he was naked and, God help me, he was erect with, I hate to say it, a very impressive cock. He took hold of it, smiled and stroked it a few times. Pre-cum bubbled out of the slit and he moved toward me.

“Oh, my God, mom. What did you do?”

“I wanted to be strong. So, as calmly as I could, I just said I was sorry, but that I was happily married and that I would not be able to provide the help he wanted. I put down the champagne flute, turned round and walked away from him. As I reached the door, I turned and told him that, in all other respects, I would work to make sure he never regretted appointing me. Then I walked out”

“Well done, mom. That must have been weird.”

“Jake?”

“Yes”

“I am your mom.”

“Yes, I know. Why say that?”

“Because, you have an erection, and I don’t feel that is appropriate. Do you?”

“Sorry, mom, I hoped you hadn’t noticed. But, as well as being my mom, you are a fabulously attractive woman, who smells divine and who is sat in my lap, telling me a dirty story, with just some wispy cloth between you and me. There are some things a horny young guy just can’t control — but I’m sorry if I’ve offended you.”

“Did I say I was offended? Have I stood up? Have I slapped your face? No, no, no. All I said was that it is inappropriate. But it’s there and you’ve explained why. So, let me explain why tonight was such a disaster.”

Amazingly, she stayed, sat on my knee, her sex right over my swelling cock.

“The one invitee to tonight’s meal was a very smart, very bright, very successful partner called Ruth Goldstein, who is about 10 years older than me, and, just before the meal started, Masterson announced that she would become a senior partner on 1st January. So, well done Ruth.

“Later on, Masterson cornered me and said that he was impressed that I had been so successful this year — even without his help — and that he had never regretted making me a senior partner.

“He then smiled and said that Ruth had already shown her willingness to help him, so he felt she would do very well. He then said that, with his help, I could do even better and, knowing your dad had left, he wondered if I might reconsider helping him.”

“Jeez. Why didn’t he just ask you for a fuck?”

“Exactly. Anyway, I thanked him but said I would try to do my best without his help.

“All through the evening, he kept staring at me and smiling weirdly. At one point, staring straight at me, he slid his finger in and out of his mouth. I became really unsettled and decided I would rather be the first to leave and be this year’s cissy.

“I was clearly upset and, of course, that fucking taxi driver thought he was going to be the one to cheer me up. But, instead, I’ve had you to cheer me up. Even though you still have a most inappropriate and still growing erection that has got me horny as hell.

“Now I am off to my pit, and I’ll leave you to sort yourself out but, before I go, just one final thing. Please could you kiss me? Not a “Goodnight mom” kiss. A proper kiss like you’d give your girlfriend.”

And then we were kissing, properly. She was frenzied, our tongues thrashing about, her sex squirming about on my erection, until she suddenly broke off, stood up, and walked out and up the stairs without a word and without a backward glance.

Not wanting to follow her up the stairs right away, I dropped my shorts, which had a damp patch, from her pussy juices, and took hold of my cock. The shaft was solid and straight, the head a dark swollen purple, a stream of pre-cum bubbling out. I wiped it off and licked the clear salty goo from my fingers before stroking myself to one of my quickest ejaculations ever, spunk flying up over my t-shirt, some hitting my chin. If I’d opened my mouth and leant forward, I’m sure it would have hit the back of my throat.

I gave it half an hour, then walked up the stairs. Mom’s door was shut and there was no light from under it, so I assumed she was asleep. Ten minutes later, I was asleep too and didn’t wake until late the next morning.

I showered, dressed in clean shorts and t-shirt, then stripped my bed and took my laundry down. There was a note on the kitchen table:

Good morning, lazybones. My laundry is already in. Just off to the shops. I’ll cook lasagne for tea tonight. We need to talk! I know it’s Saturday, but please don’t make any plans to go out. Xxx

I grabbed some cereals, sorted out the laundry, tidied my room a little and heard my phone ping. A message from mom, saying “Change of plan but keep your evening free”

I replied: “Are you giving me any clues?”

“No”

So, I hung around, messaged high school friends, watched TV, did some research for my course, snacked a little until, at just after 5 o’clock, mom returned, carrying lots of bags, large and small.

“Coffee or wine?” I asked.

“Ooooh. For now, I think coffee, thanks.”

Having made us both a coffee, I set down the mugs and asked if she was going to tell me what plans she had for tonight.

“Yes, but give me a minute to put my thoughts in order.

“Jake, I want to thank you for last night. You cannot imagine how much better you made me feel about myself. Right from your reaction, about how I’d looked, to when you averted the potential trouble with the taxi driver, to your tender care when I was a sobbing mess and, to be totally honest, when it turned sexy and you kissed me.

“Your dad and I have had problems for years — low key and laughed off to begin with, but more serious as time went on. He hadn’t hugged me like you did for 2 or 3 years; if I’d been a sobbing mess, he would have taken that to show how strong he was and how weak I was and, as for your erection, well, your dad and I hadn’t had sex for over 12 months by the time he left.

“Everything you did and said last night — and I mean everything — made me feel better about myself and increased my self-worth. So, tonight, I want to say: “Thank you” and, if you’ll have me, tonight, I’m going to be your date.”

“Mom, I meant what I said last night. I would be the proudest man on earth having you on my arm as we walk in somewhere. So, if you want to be my date, I’m all up for it. BUT — I feel now would be a good time for you to say what was wrong between you and dad.”

“OK.

“Physically, you and he are very alike. Both 6ft 2in, both around 220lbs, both play ball, both very intelligent and both very good looking.

“Emotionally, you are totally different. Dad is a prime example of the Alpha Male who wants to dominate situations and people. That attracted me to him, when we first met during the induction at Masterson’s, and for years afterwards, but, when his career didn’t go the way he wanted, he became frustrated, especially as my career was flourishing. He is a decent solicitor and can bully and dominate smaller clients, but that doesn’t work with the big corporate clients, you need more subtlety, and he just didn’t have that extra layer.

“The final straw for him was me being made a senior partner — he couldn’t be an Alpha Male to me if I earned more than double what he earned. Also, he’d heard rumours that it would entail more than just legal work — and we now know he was right — and he decided he didn’t want to have to compete with me, or with Masterson and his big cock. So, he left me, and he left Masterson’s and is doing OK, I believe. I do hope he is happier than he was that last 3 or 4 years. That is it, really.”

“Thank you” I replied. “I had felt a bit of an atmosphere, occasionally, but, as neither of you said anything and as I was a teenager, more interested in myself, I just ignored it. I can now see it must have been difficult for you.”

“OK, enough of all that. It is date night for me, and this will be my first for years.

“Tonight I am taking you to the Country Club, where we have a table for a “Taster Meal”. 12 courses with a small drink for each course and they’ll have a jazz combo playing, so we’ll be able to dance between courses. I have always wanted to go to one of these nights, but your dad would never take me. And, yes, I know you don’t know how to dance but all you need to do is hold me close and sway around the floor a bit. That’s all you need to do. Trust me, you will love it.”

“Mom, I don’t have any clothes suitable for the Country Club.”

“You do now. That is what took me so long. I’ve bought you jacket and trousers, two shirts, two ties and proper polished shoes. You will look fabulous, and every woman there will envy me.”

“Now, I need to take some time to get myself ready, so I am off upstairs. The taxi is booked for 6:45. See you soon.”

She was off, running up the stairs, giggling to herself, carrying a couple of the smaller bags. I checked out the other bags and, as she said, I had a whole new wardrobe, unlike any clothes I had ever worn.

I dressed and looked in my full-length mirror, where I had a shock. 20 some years ago, mom and dad were photographed as they walked into the Country Club, with mom a good 6 months pregnant and dad dressed in similar fashion to me today. I could have been his 20-year-younger twin. The photo would be downstairs, on the bookshelves.

So, at 6:30, I was downstairs, dressed and ready to go, but a little nervous. I had checked the photo and I am definitely my dad’s son. I heard mom coming down the stairs and, again, waited for her to make her entrance.

“Oh my. Mom, I don’t know how you do it but you look even more beautiful, even more sexy, than you did last night. How is that possible?”

“I didn’t really want to go last night, but tonight is different. This is my date night, and I am excited about it. Not only that, but just look at the handsome man I’m dating. Gosh, that look takes me back.”

“I know — just like dad all those years ago.”

“Well, you’re maybe a little slimmer and you are not wearing flared trousers, but people will certainly know whose son you are. Oh and no obvious flirting while we are there. I’m sure there will be people there who know us, and I want us to act like we are just a mom and son just having a happy time. OK?”

“Sure thing mom.”

BUT “no flirting while we are there”, “act like we are just mom and son”? Why while we are there? Why just act like a mom and son? Am I reading too much into those statements, or is mom intentionally sending mixed messages?

There was no chance of us trying to pretend, as the people at the next table had known mom and dad. They politely avoided the subject of him leaving but told me how much I looked like him. The old guy actually chuckled and said that, while dad may have left, he did leave a lot of himself behind.

Anyway the food and drinks were great — though I was still hungry when we’d finished. Some of those 12 “courses” were little more than half a mouthful. The alcohol did its job though and I was pleasantly buzzed by the end of the meal.

The dancing was more like smooching but with very careful hand placements. My right hand always in the small of mom’s back with light pressure to hold her against me. My left hand up by my shoulder, holding mom’s right hand. All very proper, with no flirting and nothing to suggest we weren’t just mom and son, having a meal and a bit of a dance.

That is, unless you looked in my new boxers, where I had a happy little chubster. Fortunately, dark trousers and low lighting, plus mom staying very close meant I don’t think it was visible. Also, a few people knew mom and spoke and laughed with us, while we were on the dance floor, so it all looked very innocent.

Mom, of course, knew I was excited and said she could feel how excited I was. She also, with a wicked twinkle in her eye, confessed to feeling the same way and that made keeping my composure very difficult.

Eventually, the evening was over, and we were in the taxi home. We sat close; mom, smiled and, very deliberately, placed her hand on my thigh, looked at me and said: “Patience.”

We walked up the drive, side by side, just in case neighbours were watching, I guess, then walked into the living room. Mom said we should change into something more comfortable and then meet back down here. She was acting a little strange and seemed nervous.

A few minutes later, I was in pyjama shorts and t-shirt, back downstairs and sat in my chair, wondering what was going to happen next. Mom came in, also wearing pyjamas – shorts and vest — with a short bed robe I’d bought for her last birthday.

She stood in front of me and took a deep breath, making and keeping eye contact with me.

“Jake, please just listen for a couple of minutes, without saying anything.

“What you did last night was absolutely perfect. You saw a danger; you averted it; then you gave me very gentle comfort when I fell apart. When I asked you to kiss me, you kissed me. What you did was right.

“What I did was wrong — very, very wrong — but could have been worse.

“I sat in your lap twice; the second time throwing my skirt back so there was only my panties and your shorts between us. I felt you get hard, but I stayed where I was. I asked you to kiss me and, as you did, I ground my sex down onto your cock. I knew I was behaving so badly, but you had made me feel so safe and then I guess the wine and the emotion took over.

“When I stood and walked away, I could not look back at you or speak to you because, if I had, it would have been to ask you to my bed. Caught up in the emotion I am sure you would have said “Yes”, but I was afraid you might have regretted the decision, to commit incest, which is a crime the world over.

“Tonight, there is no such emotion. We had a lovely, happy evening, one of my best date nights ever, but we were very chaste, and I think we are both in charge of our emotions. I am going to get us a glass of wine each and, when I come back, if I may, I would love to sit on your lap again and be made to feel safe and, if I am honest, to be turned on like I was last night. But only if you want. OK?”

With eyes glistening from tears that didn’t quite fall, mom went out to open a bottle and to pour the wine. I had a no brainer decision — or did I?

If she came back in and I asked her to sit on my knee, then we both knew that would start a process which would lead to us having sex, to me having sex with the most beautiful and desirable woman I was ever likely to know.

If I asked her not to sit on my knee, we both knew we would never have sex, which I felt would really upset her and would leave me forever wondering what it would have been like.

But, sex with your mom, whatever the on-line videos may imply, whatever the stories on Literotica and similar sites may imply, is, always has been and always will be a big old step to take, for most boys.

She walked in, two glasses of red wine in her hands. She stood in front of me, silently waiting for my decision; smiling, but clearly unsure what I would say. She glanced at my crotch, but there was no clue there. I think the enormity of the decision I was about to make stopped my expected erection from forming. She looked back up at my eyes and I just tapped my thigh.

“Please, mom. Sit here like you did last night.”

“Jake, you understand the implications?”

“Yes, mom, I do understand, and I still want you to sit on my lap. Last night was a magical night for me and I hope tonight will be even better. So, please, put down the wine, which neither of us really wants and come and sit with me.”

She sat down, turned her head to me and we started to kiss. Not frantically, like last night, but cautiously, gently. The tip of my tongue traced the edge of her lips and gently parted them as our lips met. Her tongue reached out to mine and, open-mouthed we breathed in each other’s breath.

My hands roamed, gently stroking her arms, her legs, her midriff, before being led to her breast. Full, warm, firm, pliable but with nipples, as hard as pebbles, proudly standing out just begging to be rolled, tweaked, pulled, kissed, sucked, etc.

By now, of course, my cock was fully erect, being held down by the hotness at the head of her thighs. She was squirming around on my cock getting me bigger and harder than I had ever been.

“Jake, I think I may be overdressed for this.”

She slowly took off her robe and pyjama vest, giving me full access to her magnificent breasts. They were just as I had imagined from looking at all those catalogue pictures. Round, firm, hardly any sag, her nipples a dark pink colour, her areolas only slightly lighter. I cupped a breast and turned to kiss her again.

As we kissed, I moulded her breast, rolled the nipple between finger and thumb, feeling it harden and grow, making her gasp even as we were mouth-to-mouth kissing with tongues entwined. Suddenly the frenzy of last night was there; the kissing more frantic, her squirming her sex all over my cock and, as with last night she suddenly stopped and stood up.

This time she turned, held out a hand and said: “Come to bed.”

As I stood, she turned to walk to the stairs but I reached out to her, my arms coming round, my right hand on her left breast, my left hand on her right breast. I hefted and moulded them both, tweaked both the nipples, felt her trembling in anticipation.

I kissed her behind the ears, on her neck, down the side of her throat and I ran my right hand down her front, into her shorts and down to her sex.

She was soaked, pussy juices streaming from her, coating her inner and outer lips.

Her clit was a hard little button and I gently circled it with my fingertip, as I continued kissing her and exciting her nipple with my other hand.

I lifted my right hand to her lips and, as she avidly sucked her own juices from my fingers, her orgasm hit. No longer just trembling with anticipation, she was now shaking as her orgasm took over her whole body. My hand went back down to gently tease that little hard bud, intensifying her pleasure, her gentle wimpers becoming all out screams of ecstasy as a second and even stronger orgasm hit home.

“Jake, Jake, Jake. Please, let’s go to bed. I want your cock in my mouth, in my pussy, I want your spunk. I need your cock.”

We went up the stairs and straight to her bedroom, where she spun round and sat down on the edge, reaching out to drag down my shorts. My cock was as big as I have ever seen it. Long, thick and hard, the head a dark shiny purple, pre-cum pouring out. If ever there was a cock in need of release, this was it. I knew I would not be able to last long and said so to Mom.

“Good. Let’s get your first orgasm out of the way, then you will last much longer when you fuck me.”

With that she grasped the shaft of my cock and pulled me towards her, my dark purple head disappearing into her mouth, her tongue pleasuring round the head, teasing the slit, as one hand pumped my shaft and the other hefted my balls, feeling their weight, sensing their readiness to explode.

Mom kept up a steady hum as her mouth was clamped round my cock, alternately sliding her mouth up and down the shaft then pumping the glistening shaft with her hand, the head in her mouth with her lips clamped round my rim.

There was no way I could last and I told mom I was about to cum. Her eyes just smiled, she put up a thumb and pumped my shaft ever faster, tightening her grip.

My balls started to roll themselves and contract towards the root of my shaft and then my unstoppable orgasm started.

“Oh my God, mom. I am going to cum so fucking hard. Get ready. Oh, this is heaven. I can’t believe how you’ve got me feeling. Oh, yesssss, it’s here, I can’t stop it. Oh mom, mom, mommmmmmm. Fuuuuuuuck.”

I felt my cock explode. Gush after gush of creamy white spunk was being fired into mom’s mouth. Her cheeks were expanding to try and keep it all in, but it was too much. Small dribbles of cum appeared all round her lips as I carried on cumming with the strongest orgasm I had ever experienced.

As the flow slowed down and my cock began to soften, mom leant back, opening her mouth to show her tongue and her teeth covered by my finest. She swallowed then told me to kiss her, so I could taste my own cum in her mouth. I had never tasted my own cum, so this was a very new experience. It tasted strange but it had an amazing effect. Just from kissing mom, tasting my cum on her lips and in her mouth, my poor dwindling cock started to revive. She had still been holding it and broke away to look down, laughing.

“Jake, that is a very impressive reaction. Let’s give it a few more minutes to get its breath back and, while we are waiting, can you do something with this?”

With that she pulled off her shorts, lay back on the bed and lifted her open legs to give me my first ever view of her pussy.

“Mom, you are completely bare. Not a single hair on you. I’d never have guessed that you shaved or waxed, but that sure looks inviting”

“Another reason I was out so long. This frshly-waxed pussy is all yours. Now get to work, lover boy.”

Wow! She’d had a wax job in readiness for tonight!

I knelt down and leant forward. Her muskiness was a scent like no other, her slit was glistening and oozing a trickle of juice that was running down across that tender area of skin, onto her anus, which gleamed and glistened. Her clit stood, small but proud, at the top of her inner lips. Her pussy was a bright pinky-red, flooded with juice. Where to start?

I put out my tongue, placed it over her anus and slowly licked upwards, the tip hardened to flick at her dark hole, then softened to lick across the width of her inner lips, lapping up the juices as they started to flow even quicker. My tongue delved into her hole then rose up to let me tease that tiny, but oh so sensitive, little button.

Her cries of ecstasy drove me on. I lowered the whole of my mouth and began sucking at her juices as they flowed out, drenching my lips, my tongue, my chin. I took her clit between my lips and applied gentle suction while using a softened tongue to caress it.

“Jake! Oh, sweet Jesus, that is so fucking good. Please don’t stop. Keep sucking and licking, but just let me rub my clit.”

As her fingertips moved down to start to rub her clit, my tongue was still in her pussy, lapping up the copious juices she was delivering but, as her fingers speeded up, I moved lower and started circling her anus with the tip of my tongue.

“Oh God, that’s dirty. Jeez, Jake, nobody has ever licked me there and I love it. You are making me come. Jake, Jake, Jake, I’m cominnnng. Oh fuckinnnnnng hell, it’s too much.”

Just as she started to really come, I forced my tongue into her dark hole, pistoning the tip in and out of her anus, as she screamed and bucked and then, suddenly, she flooded me as she ejaculated, squirting into my face and mouth before, just as suddenly, collapsing down, completely limp.

“Jake, come lie with me. Just hold me. You took me places I have never been and I just need to get my breath back.”

We moved up onto the bed, entwining our legs, her slightly on top of me, leaving my hands free to gently stroke as her breathing and heart rate came down to something approaching normal. Mom looked at me and started kissing, then licking my lips, saying how good she tasted on me.

After a few minutes she looked down, saw my fresh erection, and moved over so her knees were either side of me. Reaching down, she took hold of my cock and began to rub the engorged head along her pussy, which was still oozing her juices.

“Jake, you could argue that everything we’ve done so far has been incestuous, without actually being incest. The next step would be full-on incest. Sex with your mom. Just nod if you want to carry on.”

Of course, I nodded.

“Then let’s put this bad boy where he wants to go” and she lowered herself onto my cock, sliding down until all 7+ inches of my cock were balls deep and her clit was pressed hard against my pubic hair.

I was still fairly inexperienced with sex, so I didn’t have much back history to compare to, but I knew this was special. Her pussy fitted me like a silken glove. Her pussy walls were almost vibrating with lust. She leant forward to kiss me and, as she did so, her butt rose, up and down, up and down, milking my cock as her tongue raided my mouth.

She’d been right. As good and as wonderful as this felt, that orgasm just 15 minutes ago had taken the edge off my lust enough for her to be able to build up a real rhythm. As she dropped down, impaling herself on my cock, I started to thrust upwards, to meet her.

Each upward thrust caused a squishy sound, as my fully erect cock drove into her sopping wet pussy. I could feel the spray of her juice on my thighs. Her juices smelled of freshness, a hint of sweetness, a hint of muskiness. Her breasts were perfect orbs: a slight sway, a slight tremble, her nipples so dark and hard, still with an upward tilt. The fifth sense, taste, came from her fingers, which she had dipped down to her pussy and brought up to my lips to taste her post-orgasm juices.

The Sixth Sense?

I knew I loved her, possibly more than I would love any woman, and I sensed she may feel the same about me.

The sex became more primal: her pussy crashing down on my cock and me, with all the force I could, thrusting my cock up into her pussy.

“Mom, I’m getting there.”

“Jake, I’m right on the edge. Let mom come first. I’ll only be a minute.”

I reached out, holding her thighs, stopping her but allowing me to thrust even harder. As I did, I slid my hands around to hold on to the cheeks of her arse, to pull them down as I thrust up.

I speeded up; shorter, faster, harder thrusts and I could see her orgasm approach, as her chest, neck and face took on a rosy glow; her mouth open, no words, just guttural noises coming from her throat.

I reached further with my right hand, the tip of my middle finger finding her anus and forcing its way in.

“Aaaaaaaagh. That’s it. I am coming, you beautiful boy. Your mom is coming from your hard fucking and I don’t think I’ve ever been so well fucked. Oh my God, I’m there; I’m there. Fuuuuuck me. Jaaaaaaaaaaake!””

Mom was bucking like someone on a fairground bull. My cock was still deep in her pussy and my middle finger was up to the knuckle in her arse.

“Mom, this is for you.” And I gave one almighty thrust upwards and felt my cock gushing deep into her pussy, spurt after spurt of hot spunk deposited where it is meant to go.

We were both lathered with sweat as she collapsed down on top of me. Then, just like she’d done last night — but for very different reasons — she started to sob. As she looked at me through tear-stained eyes, she simply said: “I am such a bad mother, but I love you” and laid her head on my chest.

A few minutes later, she had regained control and, while still lying with her head on my chest she said:

“Jake, that was amazing. In just a few short minutes, you did three things no one else has ever done for me and you made it so special by doing those things.

“You kissed me while I still had your spunk in my mouth. How I have so wanted your dad to do that. He was happy to blow his load in my mouth, but he would never kiss me until I’d rinsed out and brushed my teeth, even when we were young and still experimenting.

“Then you kept going with the oral sex until I’d reached my orgasm. Your dad would give up after a minute or two and just stick his cock in me.

“Then you not only licked around my arse, but you stuck your tongue inside as I was climaxing and then you put your finger in there when we were fucking. Trust me, not many men will go there.”

“Thanks, mom. I was just doing what seemed to come naturally, so it’s good to hear those things worked for you. If you have any other unfulfilled fantasies, I’m here to help.”

“Well, there is certainly one, but if you feel it’s gross, just say so.

“When my pussy is full of spunk. I like to stick my fingers in then lick off the cocktail of cum and pussy juice. I’ve always dreamt of taking that cocktail not from my fingers, but from my lover’s tongue. As you can imagine, your dad thought the idea was gross, licking his own cum from my pussy then kissing me? No way, Jose!”

“It does sound strange but, hey, on a night of firsts, let’s add that to the list.”

With that, mom lay on her back and I moved down between her open legs. As she raised her knees, I could see her cum-filled tunnel, with that glorious cocktail of cum and pussy juice oozing out. I lapped up a mouthful of the cocktail then moved up to kiss mom, letting her use her tongue to scoop the goo off my tongue.

I moved back down and used my tongue to scoop out another tongueful of cum/juice cocktail, again sharing it with mom. Her pussy was gushing, the cocktail drooling out and covering her anus. My third tongueful was taken from round her anus, scooping up to her pussy and again I went to present it to her in a kiss but, as I did, my cock got in the way.

Amazingly, for me anyway, my cock was starting to get hard again so, as I went up to kiss mom, I slid my chubster inside her cocktail-filled hole. Mom’s eyes shot open and she gasped as my partial erection penetrated her gooey love tunnel, like sliding a hot knife through butter. Her hips started to gyrate as mine started a slow thrust. I could feel my cock getting harder but had no idea if I could have a third orgasm in less than an hour. There was only one way to find out.

This quickly turned into out-and-out rutting. No subtlety, no finesse, no sweet love. This was pure and simple fucking. Me, pounding my cock into mom’s pussy; mom, raising her hips to meet each powerful thrust, the word ‘fuck’ escaping her lips every time I smashed home.