That surge of pleasure had just kicked in.
I craned my head up to my computer monitor perched on the desk at the end of my bed and absorbed the displayed image of my mom in her bathing suit by the pool; the trickles of water beads from her wet hair resting on her shoulders as she smiled at the camera.
I pressed and glided my stiff penis into the soft panties on top of the pillow my stomach was resting on and gave a relaxing breath. I spread my legs a little more to give myself a better mounting position and crunched my stomach, giving a second smooth hump into the delicate tan-colored undergarment fabric.
This was going to be a good session. I just knew it. I needed it after all the stress lately of my final senior exams.
I arched my head back up to the photo. If only I could be just one of those tiny little water droplets resting on her boasting bosom.
And then there was the sudden sound of my bedroom doorknob turning.
Electric bolts of pleasure were quickly replaced by a wave of terror. I had forgotten to lock the damn door! It happened too fast for me to react, really. By the time my mind had processed what was happening in that split-second, the door was already open, and my mother had swept forward into my room. She only shuffled her socked feet a few steps before the sight in front of her caused a startled gasp as the laundry basket in her arms lurched forward and spilled across the carpet.
"Shit!" I murmured in a short panic as I sprang up and back to sit on my bottom, reactively pulling the pillow up to cover my lower half.
"Oh! Oh, God. I am--I am so sorry," she immediately started blurting, shaking her head away and dropping to her knees as she tucked her wavy brown hair from her face and averted her eyes, scooping up the articles of escaped clothing. "I knocked, but apparently not hard enough."
"It's fine, it's fine," I quickly stated.
"I didn't see anything. I'll be out of here right now," she assured, tossing the last of the balled socks back into the basket as she pushed herself back onto her feet. Her body went to veer away, but her peripheral version had momentarily trapped her from moving as she caught a glimpse of the computer monitor.
At first, she simply did a double-take and looked ready to continue her hasty exit, but it was obvious her curiosity quickly got the better of her and made her face freeze at the sight of the image before her. The corners of her pretty hazel eyes tried to return to her naked son sitting beneath the pillow on the bed, as it was evident she was putting two-and-two together in the crazy chaos of what she just walked into.
She did take a step to leave, but jolted into another freeze as her curiosity overtook. "Were... Were you just... looking at a picture of me while you were doing... that?" she said, fumbling her words.
I snapped my head to the monitor and bent my eyebrows down, crafting a preposterous expression. "What? No! What? I--No. I just--I was going through pictures earlier and must've left it on or something. Could you leave now, please?"
She stood squarely, and it was clear she was venturing into suspicious mom mode, a demeanor most of us are all too familiar with. She firmly set the laundry basket on top of my dresser and stepped forward, crossing her arms as she rolled her tongue in her cheek. "And those panties you were using? Are they... mine?"
"What? No! They're just--they're a girl's from school," I said.
"Really," she flatly responded. "Show me then."
I planted my face in my hand. "Are you crazy? This is... this is so embarrassing. Would you please just get out?"
She came over and sat at the foot of the bed. "Not until you show me."
I lightly shook my head to myself in disbelieving embarrassment.
She took a deep, calming breath. "Look," she started to say, searching for the words in her head, "I'm... not mad, or anything. Okay? I just--I saw the photo, I saw what you were doing, and it's starting to look like something. I just wanna know if what I'm thinking is right, that's all. I'm just a little confused."
I still didn't answer. I didn't know what to say.
"I'm not here to judge you," she added.
I took another breath and reluctantly reached down under my pillow, pulling the panties out and holding them up while trying to avoid direct eye contact.
"Yeah," she softly said, "that's what I thought I saw." She twisted her neck back to the monitor. "And my picture of me in a bathing suit. Were you... doing that... to me? Like thinking of me?"
Both of my hands now found their way to completely covering my face. "This is not happening," I muffled under my breath.
She instinctively reached out and touched the pillow in an effort of some kind of comfort, then pulled her fingers back. "No, I--Listen, I said I'm not mad, okay? You're not in trouble; I'm just a little... shocked."
"You're telling me," I quipped.
"Are these, like, recent feelings? Is that how you feel about me?"
"I don't know," I mumbled. "It's nothing, all right? Forget it."
"Kind of hard to forget," she stated. "Was it something I did, or didn't do? Where did this come from?"
"Look, I don't know," I barely snapped back. "It's just kind of, there, okay? It just kind of, started a few years ago."
She nodded and gave a smooth shrug. "I'm sure it's..." she began, searching her head again. "...perfectly normal to feel this way. I'm sure you're not the only guy in history who has had these kind of, um, thoughts, or, feelings, whatever."
"That doesn't make it any less embarrassing," I added.
"I know," she agreed. "But I said I'm not here to judge. You know I've never judged you on anything and supported you with everything. It's just..." She looked up to the ceiling. "Woo. It's a lot to take in."
"Can we talk about this later, please?" I calmly pleaded. "This is a little awkward, sitting here like this."
"No," she nicely insisted. "I just have a few more things to say. We're gonna--just--I feel like we should talk about this now while it's still fresh."
"What is there to talk about?" I shrugged.
"You're eighteen; you're an adult. And you know I've always encouraged you to be open as a person in all aspects of your life. I don't want you to feel embarrassed. And I definitely don't want this to be awkward. We've always been open with and dependant on each other, ever since your father left us," she explained. "I guess what I'm getting at is, if this is how you like to sexually satisfy yourself, I don't want you to feel bad about it."
I gave a small, exaggeratedly sarcastic huff. "Yeah. Me peeking into your bedroom. 'Hey Mom, do you mind if I borrow a pair of your panties to get off with?' That's not the least bit awkward."
"What were you doing with them exactly?" she curiously asked. "You weren't using them the, um, typical way it looked like."
"What does it matter?"
"I'm just wondering," she responded in self-defense. "I've just never really seen or heard of it done that way before. You know, like, humping or grinding on top of them."
"So?"
"Nothing. There's nothing wrong with it. If that way feels better, then that's perfectly okay," she stated.
"It just feels better," I confirmed. "Feels more like the real thing. Like I'm doing the real thing, because I..."
She waited for me to go on, but when it was clear I had lost my words, she filled them in with, "You... haven't done that before. Sex, you mean."
I sighed. "Yeah."
"I know it must be frustrating. Especially being a guy. But you're young. And I really do think you're a ladies' man; you're just shy, that's all. You're going to meet a nice, cute girl," she encouraged with that helpful motherly tone.
"I know, I know, I just, wanted to be--good. Like when it happens, I don't want to be moving around with her like a bumbling idiot. I want it feel like I know what I'm doing with my body. Probably sounds stupid."
"Uh-huh," she nodded. "And these... sexual feelings... you have toward me.
Thinking of me in that way. Is that something you think has stopped you from going out and meeting someone?"
"No. Maybe. I don't know. I'm not in any rush. I'm just waiting for it to happen naturally. One doesn't have anything to do with the other."
"I think it might," she pondered before taking a thoughtful breath. "I just don't want to be the reason you're holding yourself back from meeting someone."
"You're not. I told you, it's no big deal. It's just a stupid, messed up, fucked up, twisted fantasy thing."
"Abnormal, sure," she added with a slight smirk. "But honestly, in a way it's kind of... flattering. I mean, it's nice to know there's someone out there who is still thinking of me like that, even if it's my own son. Women like that kind of attention, no matter who it's from. Though I still don't know what could be turning you on about your fat old mom with her flabby boobs."
"What? No. You're not fat or flabby at all, mom," I argued. "You're still in great, normal shape. And you're not old. You're just older. You're forty-five. That's nothing."
She gestured toward the picture on the monitor and chuckled. "Well, a picture doesn't lie. Look at those things. Who did I think I was, wearing that on that trip last summer? Gravity is obviously starting to take effect at this stage of my life. I swear, they're going to be knee-knockers any day now."
I snickered in return. "I think you're exaggerating. All women exaggerate. It doesn't count to self-diagnose yourself. I think they're perfectly normal and look fine. I mean, yeah, maybe they're starting to...um...drop...or whatever...a little..."
"Sag. Depressingly sag," she tossed in.
"Well, it's normal, and they still look great. My friends have even said so. I have seen way, way, way, way worse, like legitimately dropping to the feet," I chuckled. "And you're nowhere near that."
"Yet. But in the meantime, I'm glad my saggy boobs meet the expectations of you and your friends. Though I'm not sure I wanna know which ones. One shock is enough for today," she joked.
I gave a small laugh.
She licked her lips in thought and looked back at the photo, then down to the floor as if she were mulling something over. "Do you..." she began but trailed into nothing.
"Do I what?"
She gave a hesitant sigh. "I was thinking, maybe..." she started but once again stopped before picking back up with, "What if... do you want to see them?"
"See what?"
"Them," she coyly hinted, darting her eyes down to her chest.
My eyes, though, nearly became as wide as saucers as I was still trying to piece together just what she was getting at. "Th-Them? Like your... your..."
"My things. My lady lovelies. My so-called saggy works of art that seem to be the center of your gang's attention."
"Wh-What?" I blurted in shock. "Um..."
"I don't know. Maybe this will even out the embarrassment of this whole thing between us. Maybe by seeing them, it will help you--deal--with these thoughts. Like maybe it will calm you down or whatever, or get over it, or be more comfortable with it. I don't know."
"Uh... um..."
"They're just boobs. You've seen them and touched them before, honey."
"Uh, yeah, like a million years ago when it didn't mean anything," I retorted.
"You know what?" she said, starting to pull up on her shirt. "I think this might be a good idea."
"What?" I blurted in shock. Was she really about to do it?
She pulled her tee-shirt up and inside out over her head, revealing her tan-colored bra. I slightly shifted in my spot on the bed and gripped the edges of my pillow still covering my lower half.
"It's not a big deal," she casually added, reaching behind her to fumble her thin fingers around on the hook. In a matter of seconds, she undid it like a pro and hunched her shoulders slightly forward as the bra melted off her golden chest. My heart pounded.
Sweat immediately protruded from my temple and the sides of my head.
She tossed the bra to the carpet and slightly turned back to face me, presenting herself in all of her bare-chested motherly glory without even giving me the smallest chance to argue. My eyes were frozen like a deer in headlights. They were so... round. So... big. The brown nipples were placed perfectly in the centers, and the sag she proclaimed to be ashamed off wasn't so much of a sag as it was just a slight sinking to emphasize their soft buoyancy.
My jaw barely dropped. I could feel my member growing harder under the pillow. Holy shit. This is actually happening. My own mother is actually flashing me her damn titties on her own willfully-inspired accord. I had only dreamed of moments like this. Part of me was convinced that I was dreaming. I think it broke my mind into shattered fragments, because I couldn't even say anything in response other than some stupid, incomprehensible, barely audible murmurs and noises.
"See? Just breasts," she said, perking her eyebrows.
I swallowed and couldn't take my eyes off. This made her smile and bashfully look away. "This is quite the response. You're making me blush," she softly said.
"Sorry, I just, I--" I began but once again it felt like my mouth was made of melting putty.
"It's just the female body. I'm not ashamed. Nudity is a beautiful thing; I don't ever want you to think otherwise," she assured me. "Do you wanna maybe... touch them?"
"What?!" I barked in my most insane tone yet. "Uhhh, I-I-I-don't think that's appropriate, or whatever. This is crazy enough as it is. Are you sure you're feeling okay?"
"Sweetheart," she calmly insisted, holding out a hand. "Give me your hand."
I was frozen like a horny statue.
"If it makes you uncomfortable, that's okay, you don't have to," she noted. "You know I'd never do anything to make you feel uncomfortable. I just think that maybe this will help with these thoughts of yours. As unorthodox of an approach it may seem."
I swallowed the lump in my throat again before clearing it, then started to slowly scoot forward over the sheets and blankets, being careful to keep the pillow against me. When I was close enough next to her, I glanced at her glorious mountains and then up to her soft, doe eyes. She returned a comforting stare. "Go ahead," she softly urged.
My right hand raised, slightly trembling, before its fingertips barely touched down on her soft skin. I started to skim lightly at first, and as I coasted and glided downward to her cupped bottom edges, I applied a bit more touch and next thing I knew I was holding her left breast in my hand; my thumb lightly grazing her pointed soft nipple.
"Soft?" she asked in seeking agreement.
She gave a quick little jerk of her head to toss back her hair, invitingly pushing the right side of her chest out a bit. "Go ahead. Touch the other one."
My left hand took the reins, and there I was, now holding the complete pair. My breathing was flowing heavy and even. She raised her left hand and brushed a little of my hair back behind my ear.
"You don't think this is a little weird or anything?" I wondered.
"It's weird, yeah, but--it's different. I want you to be comfortable," she stated.
She smiled and looked up to the ceiling in thought. "Knowing that you've gotten off thinking about doing this very thing, it's... kind of a little exciting. A little kinky."
"I can't believe this is happening," I mumbled. I was expecting to wake up any second.
"Tell me, honey, when you have these--fantasies, or whatever, do you think about actually having... sex... with me?"
"Yes," I quietly responded.
"It's okay. I figured," she said in a manner that was attempting to calm any shame or embarrassment as she thumbed the back of my hair. "Do you want to see more of me?"
"R-Really?"
"Mmm-hmm," she cooed.
She pulled away a little and shuffled herself to the end of the bed so she would have an easier time shimmying out of her jeans. I couldn't believe that I didn't bust under the pillow in excitement right then and there, but I was usually very good at controlling that kind of thing, no matter the level of excitement (though this was clearly off the charts). She stood and slinked her panties down, lightly kicking them off her foot.
My mother... was absolutely, purely, completely one hundred and ten percent butt-ass naked in front of me. My eyes grazed her from head to toe, taking in her beautiful face, slipping past her wondrous breasts, gliding down her stomach and hips, right down to the big dark bush puffed between her legs. I couldn't speak.
"W-Wow," I finally managed to get out.
She cocked her mouth to side, playfully rolling her eyes. "Well, I wanted to show you that I'm probably far from the women you might see in a porno video or something. I've got a total mom body," she stated. She gave a quick brush through her pubic bush.
"And obviously I'm a little unkempt. I've got a total mom vagina that's probably not too sexy to fantasize about. So maybe that will help curb your feelings."
I've never understood how so many women commonly put themselves down or undermine the truth with something totally different. My mother was by no means fat. She was galaxies away from being fat. I wouldn't even consider her chubby. Sure, she had put on a pound or two and was a little more rounded than she was five years ago.
But she held a more than healthy composure. I think maybe because her breasts were a little larger in proportion to the rest of her upper half she had penalized herself, as most women do when they get older and feel less desired by men.
I'm a tit and ass man, myself. That honey pot between the legs was great and all, but visually it's never really done much for me compared to the other two. And the fact that she was preaching some kind of pubic preposterousness didn't work. I didn't mind a woman having hair down there. It was actually hotter because it left more to the imagination; more to the mystery. Forget airbrushed tidy supermodels. Hair is meant to be grown and showcased there. Nothing anti-feminine about it. There was just something so simplistic and beautiful about a woman's natural naked body.
"You're totally beautiful," I eventually complemented. "Like... you are so wrong. You're just--very natural and normal, and that's what's so great."
Another smile enveloped her face. "Awww, honey."
She slowly stepped back up to the bed, her bright eyes burning into my soul the entire time until her front side was practically right in front of my face.
"I have another idea," she said. "You said you do that to my underwear the way you do because it feels more like the real thing. That you do it that way so you can practice for the real thing. What if I... were to help you practice?"
"Wh-What do you mean?" I mumbled.
"You know, like, show you the different positions and stuff."
"You mean, like, have sex?" I asked shockingly.
"No, not quite. I don't think we should venture into that territory. It is incest, after all," she reminded me. "But I was thinking maybe you could lay on me and me on you and I could just kind of guide you and position you and stuff. So you can get a better feel of being on a real human body, and not some pillow and undies."
"Oh, uh, I, uh," I said. "I guess. Isn't that still incest? Isn't what we're doing now incest?"
"Incestuous, maybe," she corrected. "But just, maybe, two people sharing their bodies together. Kind of like a hug. A naked hug. Only your penis is pressing against me and my boobs are pressing against you. No big deal. If I'm crossing the line, please tell me. It's just an idea. I just wanna help."
I almost thought I would burst again at hearing her say the word "penis". Maybe it was a motherly thing, that she didn't want to use any of the other ten thousand dirty slang terms I was used to hearing, but the way it naturally rolled off her tongue, with such care and delicacy and softness, made the clinical name we giggled over so many years in school feel so fitting and right. So appropriate.
Sure," I agreed. "If you're okay with it."
She smiled again and climbed up onto the bed, reaching out and pulling away the pillow. The shy guy in me wanted to keep myself covered, but as my stiffened dick tilted forward, I felt a wave of kinky freedom wash over me. She eyed it on the way to passing me on all fours and turned onto her back, staring at me.
"So, like, what are we--how are we gonna--how do you wanna--" I couldn't make up my mind on how to handle this whole thing.
"You know the basic concept, right?"
"Of course."
"So just kind of, get over me and on top of me like you're going to do that, but instead of doing that, just pretend," she explained.
"Okay," I awkwardly confirmed, moving next to her. I felt her bare leg against my bare leg. They were just legs, but the thought was a precursor to what was about to go down. My own mother was willingly helping me by teaching me the ways of having sex. I honestly didn't know what was more messed up; actually having sex or pretending to have sex like it was some kind of game or lesson. Maybe the latter scenario is what got me so excited. The fact that we weren't actually going to commit the incestuous no-no of going all the way but merely practicing it seemed very appealing and playfully fun.
Maybe that's how we were both justifying it inside--we're being naked and kinky together as blood relatives, but we're not doing the dirty deed so it's within legal and moral rights. Or a gray area, at the least.
"So I'm not, like, putting it inside you, right?" I asked again to be sure. "I'm just kind of rubbing against you or whatever?"
"You don't have to rub," she said. "Just move a little. Like posing to be painted but only with some motion here and there. We're just doing this so you can feel another naked body against yours."
As I hovered over top of her, she reached down and cupped my genitalia in her soft hand, scooping my balls and shaft like they were clay. "Here--just--kind of--put your penis against my bush, and lay down on me, face to face."
There it was again. Penis. It was so inviting. So technical. The teacher of basically all I have ever learned was now going back to bodily basics as if she were my most trusted source in the world.
I lowered myself down carefully. My hardened penis softly sank on top of her, her wild hairs slightly scuffing and tickling the bottom side of my shaft as if it were a cushioned fluff of softened wiry black twine. As I lurched my body forward, my member disappeared more into it like a snake lost in her womanly grass.
I pushed my chest down over her boobs, slightly squishing them and feeling her nipples barely poke my pectorals as I shifted my hips to get more comfortable. My face finally matched even with hers as her queen-like eyes gazed up into mine. Our noses barely touched. I could feel her breath on my mouth. I had hugged my mom a billion times over the years, but I can't remember the last time I was literally this close to her face--her strikingly beautiful face. I had noticed all the little curves and contours up close unlike any time before.
I was looking into her face. I was really looking deep into her face, for maybe the first time ever. My heart thudded.
"Good," she noted, streaming her fingers along my sides and my bare back. "Women like the face to face thing. Closeness. More erotic and personal."
I straightened my shoulders, trying to position myself more as to not cause her discomfort. "It's okay. Don't worry about hurting or crushing me," she added, as if reading my mind. "Just let your weight go. Just be on me naturally. Forcing to keep yourself upright on behalf of her is just gonna cause you more exertion and discomfort. Our parts are already touching. It's a little late to be casual and prude."
So I let that last little bit of resiliency go, sinking my nudity into hers as she gave a reactive "umph" noise. "Tuck your arms under my shoulders. Bring me against you. Don't be shy. It's not just about being on top of her or in her. It's about being close to her."
I curled my arms under her armpits and hooked my hands up behind and over her shoulders, which brought our faces back close. "Very good," she whispered. I could feel the words from her breath hit my lips. "Now just move slowly. Evenly, naturally."
I started to slowly grind.
"Good, good," she softly moaned. "So now this is normally wear you would slide your penis into the woman's vagina, and since we're positioned so close, it allows for maximum pleasure. But just run it over on top, yeah, just like that."
We moved together, barely, our breathing being the only sound except for the occasional huff or natural moan. "And make sure to kiss her lips, and her face, and jaw, and neck, and shoulders, right down to her boobs."
"Should I do that? Should we kiss?" I asked, my lips barely grazing over hers.
"You can if you want, sweetie," she affirmed. "I guess that would be okay. But maybe, just, like friendly kissing. No tongue."
I pecked her lips, but this was different from the usual infinite times our lips had touched. This was softer, and done with more delicacy. I kissed her cheek, and gave a light suck to her side jawbone. Damn, my cock was feeling good!
We began kissing more deeply and passionately. It had been a while since I'd truly made out with a girl. I can't quite describe the feeling with my own mom, though.
It was a little awkward, but once I got past the anti-natural thought, it just felt like plain nature. There was something rustic, or robust, in kissing my mother like this. My mind had flashed to the movie 'Back to the Future' where Marty's mother mentioned that kissing him felt like she was kissing her brother.
This wasn't far off. It totally felt like I was kissing my mother. But it felt good. It felt right. It felt comforting.
I unlocked from her lips and she pecked my face a few times with hers, tightening her hold around my back. She tried to peek underneath my shifting and lifting stomach.
"How's your penis doing, honey? Do you feel like you're in a good position to work a nice groove?"
"Yeah," I moaned, giving another thrust.
"Okay. Okay, slow down, baby, slow down before the volcano erupts," she insisted as she patted my bare bottom. "We're just doing positions as examples, remember. I wanna show you another one." I took an exasperated breath, slightly raising myself from her. My dick sprung and waved like a ready diving board as a light, thin, syrupy stretch of pre-cum stretched from my tip to her stomach. "Oh. Okay," she said. "Nothing wrong with that. I was expecting to get some of your wetness on me. It's no problem. Just biology at work."
She wiped it away and shuffled forward, sitting on her legs as she tapped mine. "Lay on your back, sweetie. I'm gonna get on top of you."
I turned and comfortably set my head back against the pillow, looking up at her as she scooted closer. "This is great for the woman because it gives her more control and more pleasure to herself while giving you a break. Now, I'm just gonna sit over you like this, but since I'm not putting you in, I'm not gonna sit directly on your penis. Don't wanna crush that poor thing."
She sat on to the point where my cock and balls were positioned just in front of her black forestry. "Some women like to lean forward and plant their hands on the bed on each side, like this," she exemplified. "But some like to put them right on the man's chest. Again, touch and connection makes it feel sexier."
She put her hands against my chest and slightly pushed, balancing herself as she got her bottom comfortable and started to work a small groove back and forth. "And she just moves like this."
Her boobs were hanging and dangling in front of my face as she smiled. "So now saggy and swingy old boobs come in handy for visual stimulation," she snickered.
I chuckled and tilted my head, giving them a caress with my hands. "And you can put your hands anywhere--on my legs, guiding my hips, my boobs, my back. Whatever is comfortable," she said before closing her eyes with a quick moan.
I watched as my cock disappeared and reappeared from beneath her grassy bush as she humped back and forth, and while it was taking all my strength to fight the urge of sliding into it, the sensation was still nice for what it was. Her womanly weight felt good on me and I could definitely feel a wetness from her had been applied.
"Touch is important. She'll wanna know that you know she's up here, even when she's busy doing all the work," she added.
I streamed my fingers along her bare legs, feeling the slight layer of scratchy pinpointed hairs that would need to be shaved in a day or two. I rippled along her goosebumps and streaked my index finger along the crease of where her leg met her pelvis.
I squeezed her hips and slightly pushed up, even though it didn't do much. She glided over my dick and balls and gave a tired breath. "And some women will start bouncing, but your mom's old bones aren't ready to show you that now," she said with a laugh.
"Come on, mom, you're not old," I tried to reassure her. "You're in your prime."
"Woo," she gave another big breath, tilting her head back and running a hand through her hair. "Shows what you know. I'm sweating like crazy already. I've got boob sweat dripping on you," she noted with a laugh.
"It's hot," I playfully quipped. "I mean, as in sexy, not as in your boob sweat feels hot. Your sweat is nice. I mean, for sweat. You know what I mean."
She gave a quick laugh and slowed, raising to arms to display the gleam from within her pits. "Yeah, such a sexy turn on, right? Your mother's sweaty heavy naked ass all over you. Have I deterred your fantasies yet?"
"Something tells me no. I think you're doing great," I encouraged. "It'll take more than sweaty pits and tits to turn me off."
She went back to grinding, leaning forward as her breasts gave a light swing with each lurch back and forth. "So you do that thing humping my panties as your favorite preference but I know you still jerk off," she commented.
"How do you know?" I coyly challenged.
"I can hear you in the shower sometimes, sweetie," she smiled. "A wet penis whacking and slapping is a pretty distinct noise."
"Guilty as charged."
"Do you think about me when you do it?"
"I'd be lying if I said no."
She gave a pleased smile. "Good. There's nothing wrong with that. Nothing wrong with masturbation or sexually satisfying yourself whatever way you feel fit. Everyone masturbates, even me. God knows since your father left ten years ago I've done my share fair. Probably as much as you."
"Just the minor difference being that you've never weirdly fantasized about me while doing it," I joked.
"Maybe, but the thought has crossed my mind before. I think any mother has thought of it once or twice, just as a passing quick thought," she said before slowing down out of breath. She gave a huff and perked her eyebrows, looking down as she lifted my member. "And you have a beautiful, beautiful penis," she complemented. "Some girl is going to be so lucky."
"I hope."
"Okay," she stated, letting her hands fall and slap to her legs after rustling her hair. "We've gotta change back. I'm sweating all over you now. Another fact you probably don't see much in porn you watch--women with some junk in their trunk tend to sweat during sex."
"You're not big at all," I groaned. "Stop. You've got some normal weight to you, that's all. And we're not having sex, remember?"
We re-positioned so she was on her back again as I shuffled over her, my dick dragging along her thigh. I met her face to face and she gave my cheek a quick, ready kiss before doing a double-touch with her nose to my neck. "Mmm," she murmured.
"Ugh. You smell really good when you're primed."
"Really?" I wondered, tucking my arms under her. "You can tell?"
"Mmm-hmm," she said, rubbing my back.
I began to grind and pump. My cock was rock hard and throbbing. Her skin was so soft and slick. It was feeling so good just doing this rolling around thing.
"I feel really guilty and kinda of bad," she then said. "I'm supposed to be showing and teaching you these things without going the distance and here we are rubbing and touching so much I've probably got you so worked up."
"It's fine," I brushed off.
"Just a couple minutes more, to make sure you got the motions down. If you feel like you're about to shoot your cum, just tell me and I'll let you get off me, okay?"
"Okay," I said, my body starting to tighten. My toes were curling. A tingling buzz surged through my entire rod. I was getting close. I couldn't just cum, though. Not on my own mother. Despite what we were doing, I think that would be ultimately crossing the line. Then again, the devil on my shoulder was probably asking what it would matter at this point. I figured I could grab the panties quick and eject into there.
"You're doing real good. I think you've got promise." She closed her arms around me, kissing my cheek, then brought her mouth to my ear. "I love you," she sweetly whispered.
And that did it.
My cum surged forward in an unannounced supreme blow. I grunted a big moan as I shot the first load against her leg, and then my hips bucked and a second smooth stream flowed out against her pelvis. My third shot blew a little weaker as my penis pressed against her stomach, and my eyes were practically in the back of my head as my open mouth was sinking on her breast; a bit of drool draining like I was a lunatic at an insane asylum. My fourth and final ejaculation was more like a finalized lighter spurt as the last little bit plopped against her; my leg giving a kick like a dog having a pleasurable dream.
"Oh. Oh God. Oh, um..." my mom mumbled, trying to grasp what was happening during the entire duration.
"Uhhhh," I made a relaxed noise as I sank helplessly onto her.
"Okay. You, um... wow," she stated.
"I'm sorry," I barely managed to get out between my calming breaths.
"No, no, don't be sorry, sweetie," she insisted, rubbing my bare back. "It just... caught me by surprise. Though I guess I shouldn't be surprised."
"I tried not to," I said.
"No apologies. You let it out when it needed to come out. I don't mind you did it on me. I mean, we're both naked and sweaty and rubbing all over each other to begin with, I was gonna need to shower anyway," she proclaimed. "Here, lift up a little. Let me see."
I slightly tilted back. She surveyed the gleams of my cumshots against her body.
"Oh. Wow. That is... that's a lot. You are certainly a big boy. Do you normally cum that much?"
"Yeah. Usually."
She tapped my shoulders and guided me back onto her. "Here--honey--lay back down. Rest. Just rest."
I relaxed over her and just breathed as she streamed a finger against my back down to the edges of my bare buttocks. "Shhh, shhh," she calmingly nurtured. "It's all right. You did nothing wrong. You did the most natural thing in the world."
"Yeah, on the most unnatural person in the world," I reminded her.
"It was sexy. We shared something wonderful together. We experienced something most mothers and sons can't relate to. This should bring us closer together now. Maybe it'll help your kink," she said. "Did it feel good?"
"Yeah," I mumbled.
"Good," she approvingly soothed.
"Thank you," I said. "For doing this. For showing me what's it like to be on and under a woman. For helping me... face this and deal with this maturely instead of passing me off as psychologically screwed up."
"I'm glad I could help. I don't know how this will affect things between us, but I think it'll make us stronger. Thank you for sharing this with me," she emphasized. "Shooting your manhood out onto me... I don't think I can find the words for how special that is. And how you think I'm so beautiful, so beautiful where it makes your penis literally get to the point of shooting out your love and care in the form of a fluid."
"I love you, mom," I told her, kissing her breast.
"I love you, too, baby," she responded. "Now just rest. Rest and relax and let your penis calm down and soften. And I guess now that we've gone this far and kind of achieved this monumental point, then later, we can maybe talk about taking things to the next level and I can show you what making love together feels like."
"Really? You wanna go that far?"
"Mmm-hmm. We've already done this much."
"Does making love mean I get to cum inside your pussy?"
"Heyyyy," she coyly smirked, giving my face a gentle tap as she bent her eyebrows down. "You can't talk to me like that, you dirty boy. I'm your mother."
"Oh," I smiled. "Your motherly flowery vagina?"
She gave a hearty laugh. "Yes. My motherly flowery vagina," she explained, snuggling closer into me. "Covered with a big ol' momma bush. Located on the opposite side of my big ol' momma butt. South of my big ol' sweaty momma boobs."
"That'll feel nice," I said, closing my eyes.
"Well let me ask, then--how do you feel at the thought of having another brother or sister?"
THE END