A Mother's Persuasion

I stroked her back, reaching down to lightly massage her bum cheeks, feeling the cleft of her buttocks, kissing her forehead and her hair.

'How are you feeling?' I asked eventually.

'Very warm and very content and very well fucked.'

I stifled a giggle; I'd never heard my mum use that word before.

'How about you?' she asked. 'Any pangs of guilt?'

'No,' I said. 'Nothing like that at all. In fact I feel great. It was fantastic, mum. You were fantastic. It's never felt so good before.'

'You were pretty good yourself, darling,' she replied. 'And you're a lovely size! Bigger than your dad was. And so hard!'

I was a bit uncomfortable with the comparison. 'I'm only about average,' I muttered.

'Well you felt big to me.' She was quiet for a few moments. Then, 'I said I could give you a very good time, Charlie. And we've hardly started yet.'

I gulped as she said this and my stomach churned with desire and anticipation. Also my cock twitched. It hadn't really softened much since withdrawing from my mother's vagina but now I felt it harden. Mum must have felt it too; it was sandwiched between our abdomina.

'Mmm, the vigour of youth.' She rolled away from me so that she could take my erection in her hand - the first time she'd touched me there - and gently pull the foreskin back over my glans. 'You can have me again, if you want me,' she said, softly, her fingers sliding up and down my shaft.

I clambered between her open thighs and entered her with one long, confident thrust. She was hot and liquid inside, filled with her own juices and the discharge of my first orgasm. God, she felt good! I started fucking her with long, hard thrusts, knowing that my next orgasm would take longer to achieve and that she might enjoy a harder ride.

It certainly seemed that she did. As I rammed into her sopping pussy she gasped and raked my back with her nails and bit my shoulders and neck in a frenzy of sexual pleasure. Despite the erotic feeling of her being out of control, I arched my back in pain as she dug her fingertips in and then I grabbed her wrists and pinned her down on the bed and fucked her hard and fast, my loins crashing into hers, my cock making an audible slurping noise, my hard stomach muscles sliding against her soft belly, lubricated by our perspiration.

It took a long time to come and my mother writhed and squealed beneath me, urging me into her with her legs around my thighs, struggling to free her arms, thrashing her head about and muttering, 'Yes, yes, fuck me, fuck me hard Charlie, fuck your Mummy hard.'

My second orgasm wasn't as powerful or as intense as the first but it still sent shards of pleasure through my belly and my brain and left a great rosy glow of intense well-being and love for my bed partner as I pumped my semen into her. As before, I rolled off my mother and took her into my arms and we lay breathless and sated as the sweat dried on our skin.

We didn't speak, and after a few minutes I was aware of my mother's deep, even breathing and I guessed she'd fallen asleep. I played the events of the evening through my head a few times, awestruck that it had actually happened. I'd actually made love with my mother, and it was going to happen again and again and she had hinted at yet more pleasure to come. I knew what I wanted; I wanted her to suck my cock, to pleasure me with her lips and tongue and fingers until I exploded in her mouth. I wanted to bury my face in her shaggy bush and lick her pussy until she screamed out an orgasm; I wanted to explore every inch of her, to kiss and lick and stroke her most intimate places. But most of all I wanted to see her naked in the daylight. To see her big, firm breasts and nipples and her thick, luxuriant bush.

That, I realised, would happen in the morning, when I would have her again before going to work. And with that satisfying thought in my head I joined her in the arms of Morpheus.

I woke the next morning disorientated, wondering fleetingly where I was. Then it all came back with a gut-wrenching surge and I lay back on my pillow, the boy who'd fucked his mother last night, and would do so again this morning. It wasn't light in the bedroom, the curtains were too thick for that, but I could see a lot more clearly than I'd been able to last night. I looked over at the shape under the duvet, the mass of black hair on her pillow, and over at the digital clock on her bedside table. It said 9:17, which was disappointing because I was due at work by 8:30. My alarm clock, which was set to wake me up at seven o'clock, was still in my own bedroom.

I sprang out of bed and raced to my room where I showered and dressed in record time. Gulping a glass of water I went back into my mother's bedroom and sat on the side of the bed next to her.

'Mum?'

She turned her face to me, puffy with sleep, and smiled. 'What time is it, Charlie?'

'Half nine and I'm an hour late for work already. I just came in to say goodbye.'

She half sat up and lifted her arms and put her hands on either side of my head and I leaned over her and we kissed and I tasted her morning breath and it was still a very arousing experience and I realised that sleeping had changed nothing and we both still wanted each other and I contemplated taking the morning off work but mum smiled at me as if guessing my thoughts.

'Off you go then and make sure you get some breakfast in the canteen. What time will you be home?'

'About half-five.'

'I'll be waiting for you,' she said in that husky, sexy, deep voice of hers.

That day at work was a blur. Even more so than some of the other days when my thoughts were more focussed on my mother than they were on my job. I was the boy who'd had sexual intercourse with his mother the night before. Twice. Could people see that on my face? Did everybody know what a mother-fucking little deviant I was? Did I care?

No. And I was going to go home that evening and have her again. She had said she'd be waiting for me. And it would be light and I'd get to see her in all her naked glory and I'd go down on her and... I actually had to go to the staff toilets and masturbate halfway through the afternoon. Which at least meant that my erection subsided, for an hour or so at any rate.

I left the store at five. I should have stayed at least an extra hour to make up for my tardiness that morning but I'd spun the Deputy Manager some line about a hospital appointment for my mother. I felt a bit bad about lying to him; he was a decent chap, but my libido was in charge and straining at the leash.

I got home on the dot of five-thirty. The house was silent and apparently empty. But upstairs the door to the main bathroom was closed, which was unusual as neither my mother nor I generally used it. I tapped tentatively and my mother called out, 'Come in. I'm in the bath.' Which explained things. Neither of our en-suites had a bath and mum was treating herself to a long, hot soak.

Inside the bathroom was hot and steamy and mum lay in the big corner bath in a sea of bubbles, just her head visible, her hair wet and shiny-black. I knelt by the bath and leaned in to kiss her and she opened her mouth and let me explore her with my tongue as she moved her lips gently against mine. I slid a hand into the hot, scented water and cupped one of her breasts, feeling its slippery weight and its nipple, hardening under my fingers and mum sighed and pressed her mouth against mine and I felt her tongue against mine.

'How about fetching me a glass of wine, darling? I think that would be a very nice way to start the evening's activities.'

I was back in five minutes with a glass of chilled sauvignon blanc. She sipped the fruity wine and put the glass on the side of the bath.

'I'll just finish this glass and then I'll get out and get myself ready. You do still want to go to bed with me, don't you?' she asked, suddenly anxious.

'Oh God, yes,' I said with feeling. I've thought about nothing else all day.'

Mother smiled. 'I'm glad. So have I. I so wanted to go to bed and masturbate, but I resisted the temptation.'

I laughed, feeling guilty that I hadn't.

'I'll be about half an hour, Charlie. You'll be seeing me in daylight for the first time, so I want to look special for you,' she added. 'I thought I might wear some stockings for you. Would you like that, darling? Would you like Mummy to wear stockings and suspenders for her son?'

This offer, and her use of the word "Mummy" again, and delivered in her rich, deep voice, had the same effect on me as it had last night. My viscera contracted in excitement and my cock throbbed in my work suit trousers.

'I'll come to your bedroom in half an hour,' I croaked.

'Good,' she whispered. 'And we'll have a very special time and afterwards I've made a lovely dinner for us and we'll have some wine and then who knows...'

I showered again in my bedroom and put on a dressing gown and went down into the kitchen, where there was indeed a casserole in the slow cooker, filling the room with a rich aroma of herbs and simmering pheasant. I imagined my mother sitting at her dressing table, applying makeup and rolling her stockings on. Would they be black? Would they have seams? I was a big fan of sexy underwear and stockings and a garter belt were very high on my list. Julia, my fifty-something lover from the wines and spirits department had always worn them, including when we went to bed. She had superb legs, long and shapely and I wondered how mum would look with her thicker legs.

Eventually the thirty minutes was up and I went up and tapped on mum's bedroom door.

'Come in, Charlie, I'm nearly ready.

She was sitting at her dressing table, as I had imagined, and she turned to me as I came in. She was wearing a silky pink robe. Her hair was a lustrous, glossy black, cascading down her shoulders in a mass of curls. Her makeup was heavily but carefully applied, her eyes huge with the mascara, like an Egyptian princess, her lips a dark red. There was something deeply sexy about her appearance, wanton was the word that sprang to mind. Tarty perhaps. And all done for me. My guts churned and my cock hardened under my dressing gown.

'You look beautiful, Mum,' I said and she smiled her appreciation.

'Not beautiful, but I hope I'll do.' She held out her hands, palm down. 'Do you like this nail varnish?'

It was a rich plum and highlighted her perfect nails.

'You look incredible,' I told her.

She smiled and stood up, turning to me. 'You haven't seen me without my robe, yet.'

Undoing the cord at her stomach she opened the robe and allowed it to slip off her shoulders and fall rustling to the bedroom carpet, and I stood mesmerised.

Underneath she was naked apart from sheer black stockings and a black satin suspender belt, above which her tummy bulged gently. Her legs looked glossy and strong and shapely. Her breasts with their dark chocolate areolae hung free, pendulous and heavy, the nipples pointing provocatively at me. Standing slightly sideways, she put her hands on her hips and looked at me with her big, saucy eyes.

'Well, Charlie, do I pass muster?'

For fifty-six she looked amazing. The curtains were open and the room was in the full golden light of a late June evening. Few wrinkles marred the body of Eleanor Francesca Macintyre, although the extra few pounds she was carrying helped, and cosmetics had covered the faint lines on her face. Her skin was unblemished, her breasts sagging less than I had anticipated, the nipples the size and shape of little thimbles. I realised my mouth was open and shut it with an audible snap.

'You look great, Mum. Really, really great! God, I want you!'

'And you can have me. And we have all the time we want.'

She came to me and undid my dressing gown cord and my robe joined hers on the carpet and I stood naked before her and she put her hands on my shoulders.

'You're the one who's beautiful, Charlie. I don't know what you see in your dowdy, middle-aged mother who's let herself go a bit, but whatever it is, don't stop seeing it!'

Our mouths came together and we stood in her bedroom for long minutes kissing gently and running our hands over each other's naked backs. My mother smelt of scented bathwater and her skin felt clean and soft and I thought that I had never been so turned on by a lady before and my cock stood rigidly to attention and leaked a sticky seminal juice and as we moved closer together, and the kiss became deeper and more passionate, it nestled against the thick, black bush at her loins.

I sought her buttocks with my hands and gently pressed her to me so that my cock was up against her labia. She sighed into my mouth and her kissing became harder and more insistent, her hands on the back of my head, pressing my face to hers, rubbing her loins against mine.

Breaking the kiss she led me to the end of the bed. 'Sit there, darling,' she murmured, before sitting down facing me on a small blanket chest, which she'd pulled away from the end of the bed to create a gap. 'Now lie back and put your feet on the chest, either side of me.'

I lay back on the bed, supporting myself on my elbows, my legs wide apart, my feet on the blanket chest, my cock lying rigid on my belly. My mother smiled at me before leaning forward and taking my erection in one hand and stroking it softly, running her hand lightly up and down my shaft, using her thumb and a finger to smear my secretions over my glans.

'Is that nice?' she asked quietly.

'It's wonderful,' I said. And it was. Her touch was firm but light and it felt like an angel was masturbating me. No, better than that, I was being masturbated by my middle-aged mother who'd dressed in stocking and suspenders for me and would shortly be taking my cock between her full, heavily rouged lips.

I flicked my hips up slightly to bring my cock closer to her mouth and she smiled and bent lower and her tongue came out and she leaned her head to one side so that I could see as she licked me all the way down my shaft and up again, swirling her tongue over my swollen head. She used her tongue for long minutes and I thought I might faint at the physical and emotional pleasure that she was giving me. My cock was now slippery with a mixture of my juices and my mother's saliva and her plum tipped fingers slid easily up and down my thickly veined shaft as she finally slid her red lips over the big head and took me inside her.

The feeling was exquisite: hot and wet and silky smooth. The sight was ultra-erotic, especially as she was looking at me with her big, brown eyes as she lowered her head. Looking up at me as she began fellating me with long, languorous stokes, taking three or four inches of my meat inside her mouth, her hand still gripping the base of my cock.

I can't describe how it felt. I think my sensory system was in overload. All I can say is that I had never felt that aroused, had never felt such an aura of intense pleasure and well-being and love. I'd had my cock sucked loads of times but it had never felt this good. Not anywhere near.

Then I felt the fingers of my mother's free hand cup my balls and very gently squeeze them, softly running her plum-coloured nails over the crinkled skin, exploring and teasing, her mouth still working on my cock, sucking and licking, making faint slurping noises, saliva dribbling down my shaft. Her fingers explored further, stroking the sensitive area between my balls and my anus, caressing, feeling, moving further back...

I tensed, wondering if she'd touch my pucker. Hoping that she would. Julia from Wines and Spirits would sometimes run her fingertip over my anus when she sucked me off. I had wanted her to penetrate me but was too embarrassed to ask. Now I felt a fingertip stroking me in my most intimate place and I gasped, mouth open, eyes shut, breathing heavily.

My mother's finger pressed lightly against my sphincter for a few moments then was withdrawn. In my disappointment, I opened my eyes and looked down as mum took her mouth from my cock and slowly, and unbelievably, slid a plum-tipped finger into her mouth, coating it with her spittle before taking me back in her mouth. I felt her finger slide down my perineum seeking my anus and this time she pressed harder and I felt her finger slip inside and my muscle ring contracted and gripped her and she began sucking me harder and sliding her lips and her fingers up and down faster, squeezing the base of my cock, running her tongue over my sensitive frenulum. As she did this I felt her finger penetrate me deeper and deeper and I arched my back as my orgasm began to build.

'I'm coming, Mum,' I gasped, to give her the opportunity to withdraw, but she just sucked harder and pushed her finger right in me and then I was coming, squirting great gouts of hot spunk into my mother's mouth, feeling my cock pulse under her fingers and lips.

And she swallowed the lot, every drop. And when the storm had passed she carefully licked me clean as I lay on the bed in a semi-stupor, my mind whirling with the sensations and the possibilities. Then my mother stood up.

'Would you like to use your mouth on me, now, Charlie?' she asked in that deep, husky, sexy voice, and I had a vision of her mouth and throat coated with my come. 'Would you like to go down on your Mummy?'

God, every time she said that I felt gut-wrenching arousal like I'd never felt it before. What was this primal attraction to my mother?

But that was a thought to mull over later. Because right now all I wanted to do was to bury my face in her glorious black snatch and lick and suck and tongue her until she squealed with pleasure. When I'd started thinking of my mother as I masturbated, I had imagined her thick, shaggy bush and I hadn't been disappointed. So now I scrambled off the bed and mum took my place and I sat on the blanket chest, which was about a foot lower than the bed, and mum put her feet either side of me and splayed her thighs and there it was, in front of me, mine for the taking.

Her pubic hair was the same glossy black as the stuff on her head, currently spread over the duvet. But it was more tightly curled and untamed, spreading to her inner thighs and almost to her tummy and disappearing down towards her perineum. Her labia were honey-coloured and plump and full and parted slightly in her desire, showing a glimpse of a pink, wet interior.

I put my hands on the tops of her thighs and lowered my head and inhaled the scent of her arousal: musky and strong and sweet, the strongest odour I'd encountered from a woman's pussy. But rather than putting me off it excited me and I lowered my head to her loins and parted her labia with my thumbs and licked the length of her slit, revelling in the sweet/salty taste of her juices. It was nirvana! I pressed my face into her sopping cunt and licked and slurped her juices and sucked her labia into my mouth and flicked my tongue over the little bud at the top of her inner lips.

On the bed, my mother was breathing heavily, her thigh muscles taut, her fingers gripping the duvet cover. I licked her out for long minutes, relishing the silky hair tickling my face, delighting in burying my nose in her labia as I strove to get my tongue deeper into her cunt hole. Eventually I started to concentrate on her clitoris, and mum started writhing and gasping. I slid two fingers into her pussy and fucked her with them and she groaned and wriggled and bucked her hips into my face and tried to grind her loins against my mouth in a display of wild abandon.

Near the end I withdrew my fingers and sought her anus with my long, middle finger. It was tight and knotted and fringed with fine hair and she shuddered as I touched the tip of my finger to it, but she didn't flinch or pull away and her climax was starting to build and she was groaning and gasping almost continuously I slid my finger in her arse, right in, as far as it would go, and she gave a great cry as her orgasm ripped through her and her thighs clamped my head and her hands pressed me to her hairy pussy and I held my breath and licked her clit until the waves had passed and she relaxed and flinched away as she became super-sensitive.