Between a Mother and Son Pt. 02

Continuing a true story of a forbidden love.

Despite my mother's avowed conviction in the "righteousness" of our relationship's consummation, there were still the inevitable moments of doubt and self- recrimination.

I came across her in the midst of one of these episodes only several nights after we first made love.

I had the late shift at the factory, and arrived home at about 11:30 in the evening, to find her upset, sitting alone in the dark, except for the nightlight, at the kitchen table.

I said "hi", leaned over the table, put my arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. She smiled weakly at me.

"Is something wrong?" I asked as I sat down at the table beside her.

"Something wrong?!?" She replied, not bothering to hide the tone of incredulity. "Something wrong?" She stared at the kitchen table and shook her head. "I'm a fucking whore, how's that for something wrong?"

I reached over to touch her shoulder. "Heyyy...c'mon now..."

She shrugged me off.

"No! I'm a fucking whore! I slept with my own son! I'm disgusting!" She turned away from me and began to cry.

"Stop it! Don't say that!" I replied. I was taken aback by the force of her delayed reaction, crestfallen to think she suddenly regretted our night together.

"It's true..." she sobbed. "You know it's true...what kind of mother..?."

I reached for her hand. "It's not true. You're a smart, beautiful, sexy woman. I wanted it too, you know..."

"But I should've known better...It's not right...I'm your mother...what am I doing? " Tears were welling up in her eyes. She shook her head. "What would people think?"

I reached across and I put my hand on hers as they lay upon the kitchen table.

"Who cares what people think? What matters is what we feel!"

She lifted her head and looked up at me, a smile of regret on her lips. "I'm worried...about what I may have done to you..."

"I'm not a child, mom. It's not as if I was unable to understand or make a decision on my own...I wanted this as much as you. "I gently wiped the tears from her eyes.

"We've been through a lot... we needed each other, we needed to express our feelings to each other, feelings we've felt we had to lock away and hide for a long time. There's nothing wrong with showing love for someone you care about...especially when someone feels as strongly as I do for you...and I think you do for me..."

She looked up from the table at me, and ever so slightly the character of her smile had changed from sorrow to thankfulness.

"You're my mother...and you're the woman I love."

She sighed, her breast heaving.

"You always say the right thing..."she held my hand tightly. "I was afraid..."

"There's nothing to be afraid of..." and saying this, I leaned over the table to kiss her quivering lips.

"I love you..." I whispered.

We kissed once, twice; slowly, tenderly, and then again and again; our lips touching, embracing softly in a warm, languid prelude to love.

I moved from my seat to the long bench she sat at behind the table, and pulled her close. As our kisses grew more passionate, I leaned her back on the bench. She lay beneath me, and while continuing to kiss her soft, malleable lips, I caressed her face in one hand, while my other found her breasts. Her hands were around my shoulders and the back of my head. Our breathing became more rapid, and she moaned softly as I gently squeezed her breast in my hand. I ran my finger around her nipple and she gasped.

"Oh, I do love you...my sweet boy." She pulled me close and held me tightly.

The bench was uncomfortable, and I suggested we move. She stood, took me by the hand and walked us to the extra room beside the kitchen she used for her study; there was a small sofa in the room, and it had a door with a lock. We closed the door behind us, and moved to the sofa.

As I held her, she spoke softly, as though she were revealing something only I should hear;

"I've never felt this way before...You've unlocked a part of me I didn't know existed...I don't know if I can control it."

Looking in her eyes, I said; "...maybe you shouldn't try..." I kissed her again, and cupped her breast in my hand. She moaned quietly as I lifted her top and lowered my mouth to her breasts. I ran my tongue around her nipples, sucked and lightly bit them and then pulled at them with my lips. All the while, her breathing was heavy.

I gradually lowered myself down her torso, until I arrived just below her stomach. At first, I kissed her through her pants, making her aware of my intentions . Her breathing grew more rapid as I unbuttoned her form fitting pants, and began to pull them down from her hips and out from around her ankles. Her generous hips filled her black silk panties with their voluptuous curves, and I was filled with desire.

She sat on the sofa and I knelt before her. I placed my hands on her knees and spread her legs. Placing my hands around her hips, I moved my mouth to her pussy, and hungrily licked her through her panties. My tongue found the recess of her pussy through the soft silk, and and she began to moan, a soft, low non-verbal sound that struck some primitive chord in me.

I took her panties and pulled them off her hips as I'd done with her pants minutes before, and spreading her legs wider, took in a full view of the center of my desire. There, amidst those beautiful petals of her flesh, was the passage through which I'd entered this world. Her labia were engorged, and her pussy was wet. With my mouth and my tongue, I wished only to worship her sex, to bring her pleasure as I gave her my love.

Keeping her legs apart, I kissed her soft, milky-white thighs slowly, enjoying every moment of my approach to her pussy. My hands slid beneath her thighs to her ass, and as I lifted her to me, she placed her legs over my shoulders. Tenderly, I placed my tongue between the lips of her pussy, moving it up and down between them, tasting her sweet juices. Placing my mouth on her tender lips, I pulled at them, sucked them, caressed them, alternating between my lips and tongue.

Gradually, my actions became more hurried, passionate, instinctual as I lost myself to my ravenous desire for the taste of her delicious cavity. To the sounds of her dove-like coo-ing, my tongue moved with wild abandon. Finding her clit, I licked and sucked as she wriggled her ass in my hands, and pushed her pussy in my face. I teased her with the tip of my tongue; stroking her clit repeatedly, circling around and around it like a bee sucking nectar from a lily; building up momentum and then slowing in order to prolong the anticipation and climax. Again and again, I sucked at her pussy lips, buried my tongue inside her to the sounds of her pleasure, only to return to her clit and start the process over again until I felt her ass tighten in my hands, a tension rising within her, her soft moans more and more insistent until finally she came at the bidding of my tongue.

Spent, exhausted, fulfilled yet filled with desire, she lifted me to her. "I want to feel you inside me..."

I unbuttoned my pants and gently climbed on her as she lay beneath me on the sofa. She took my hard cock in her hands and welcomed me into her warm, moist pussy, sighing as I slid deep within her;

"oh, yes...yes...love me. Tell me that you love me...the way that I love you..."

"I love you..." I answered, and as I did so, her vagina squeezed my cock. "I love you, mother, I hunger for you...I want you so badly..."

"oh yes..." she said as she gently slid beneath me. "fuck me, baby...fuck me. Fuck your mommy, my sweet boy...give mommy your love...all of your love..tell me it's just for me..."

I was excited now, and pumping her faster, harder, driven by instinct, I whispered ;

"yes... yes... it's just for you, my love is just for you, mother...just for you"

Her legs spread and held high, she urged me on: "come baby, give mommy your sweet come...tell me it's just for me, your come is just for me..."

"Yes, yes..." I exclaimed as the pressure built within me..." It's all for you, every drop is for you..." and with that, I exploded within her, a hot stream shooting like the Milky Way deep into the waiting void of the Universe.

It was several months following "the argument" before my parents finally pulled the plug on a marriage that had been on life support for several years. On a cold, rain-soaked day in February, my father moved out. And while relief came with resolution, there was also heartache. It is never an easy decision, to dissolve a marriage after 20 years. But hurt was tempered by excitement; for my mother and I were now free to explore our love without inhibition.

That first night was charged with electric anticipation. I'd expected my mother would need some time to herself, but as we stood at the kitchen window and watched my father drive away, she took my hand in hers, turned and kissed me.

"It's our time, now..." she said, pulling me close. "Let's not waste a minute of it..."

We were alone in the house; my sisters had been sent to a friend's, ostensibly to shield them from the impact of my father's departure, but as my mother's kisses grew more passionate, I began to wonder if there wasn't another, more practical reason. The answer quickly became apparent as she put her hands on my crotch and began massaging my manhood through my jeans.

"I want you desperately ..." she said as she unzipped me, and took my erection in her hands. "I need your cock..." and she ran her hand up and down my shaft. "Mmmmm...I need my son's big cock in my mouth right now..." and she knelt down before me and took my throbbing member in her mouth, as though she'd been on a bread and water diet and my cock was prime rib.

Her tongue moved expertly around the sensitive head of my penis, as she took me deeply into her mouth. "Mmm...so good. "she purred. "My boy has the most beautiful cock..."

She moved her hand and mouth up and down my stiff pole quickly, with the sensuality of a cat in heat brushing against velvet.

She could have finished me right then and there, but I was determined to hold out.

I lifted her up to hold her in my arms, and kissed her. My arms around her, my hands began to explore her body, from her back to her hips and then to her exquisite ass. I rubbed the mounds of her plump bottom, my hands slowly tracing their curves, ultimately resting at their lowest , fullest point where the flesh is most voluptuous. Her cheeks cupped in my hands 'I squeezed.

"Oooo...I like that..." she cooed.

I did it again. "Oh, yes..." she responded.

My hands then found their way around the top of her pants and underneath the waist band, feeling their way down her swooping curves to her bottom, so that now there was nothing between the soft flesh of her rear and my hungry palms.

"Oh, yes...I love your hands on my ass." she whispered; "...squeeze me, squeeze my ass..."

As I responded, our kisses became longer, more sensual, seductive, passionate. Together, almost in a panic, we pulled her pants down around her ankles; she stepped out of them and left them on the floor.

She turned her back to me and bent over the kitchen table. Looking seductively over her shoulder, she beckoned me;

"Come and get it, boy...come fuck mommy...fuck your mother from behind..." and she swiveled her hips and irresistible behind, bidding me enter her.

My cock was hard as steel. My heart beat like a trip hammer as she bent over the table and offered herself to me. Taking my rod in hand, I moved in position and slid myself into her pussy. She gasped in delight as I entered into her. Standing behind her, I held her by her hips and repeated thrust after thrust. She seemed almost crazed, her only thought for the fulfillment of her desire. As I entered her, I slapped her ass, to her cry of delight.

"Yes, yes... fuck me, fuck me...fuck me with your hard cock...your big, hard cock..."

I slapped her ass again and she squealed; "Yes! spank me...spank my ass...spank me!"

I leaned over her so that my chest lay on her back, and still pumping her from behind, I placed my hands on her breasts. By this time her torso was laying on the table and as we rocked harder and faster the table moved inch by inch until it was pushed up against the wall and could go no further. With the wall to push against, our bucking became more and more demonstrative, rougher, harder, intense. The table banged against the wall and floor repeatedly, as though it were an earthquake rocking the house.

"You're going to make mommy come..." she cried with some difficulty. "You're going to make me come...don't stop, don't stop..."

I felt the pressure rise in me as well;

"I'm going to come, too..."

"No...not yet, not yet..." she begged me.

I squeezed the base of my penis to thwart the momentum of ejaculation. The sounds of the table banging on the floor and wall grew more rapid. It wasn't very much longer when her moans became louder, her cries more insistent;

"Yes , yes! That's it, Don't stop! I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm coming!"

And as she shuddered underneath me, I lost control, and exploded within her.

This was just the beginning of that extraordinary night together. We fucked with abandon throughout the house; my mother was like a caged animal suddenly let loose in the wild, indulging in instincts long held in check. I struggled to keep up, and in my early twenties, it wasn't too difficult.

I don't recall the details of that night, or every separate orgasm, it's lost to a haze, like some wild party from the past. But what I do recall fills many a lonely night even now, some forty years later, because it was the single most intense night of sex I ever experienced.

I wish I'd had a phone to to take pictures, shoot a video of us in one position, one room after another, but unfortunately all I have left of that night is the memory, and my memory is vague-except for the end of the evening. We were in the living room, in one of the larger chairs. My mother was nude, except for a long, sheer negligee, and a long, beaded necklace that fell between her breasts. She sat on my lap, her back to my left, my arms around her torso and her legs over the arm of the chair. Her ass was positioned in my lap and my cock was deep in her pussy.

"I don't ever want you to stop fucking me" she said, as her ass rocked gently to and fro upon my lap and cock.

"I want your cock close to me, always within reach...I want to be your little fuck-slut, your little fuck-toy...tell me I'm your fuck-toy..."

Her sexy admonition was irresistible; "You're my little fuck-toy..."

"Oooo...yes. And you love your mommy's pussy, don't you?"

"Oh yes...I love my mommy's pussy..."I replied, truthfully. "... so warm, so wet..."

Her ass moved in steady rhythm, and my cock responded in kind. It felt so good, the thought of achieving orgasm was the furthest thing from my mind.

"Fuck mommy's pussy, baby...give mommy your cock, over and over and over...don't ever stop fucking me..."

Our kisses were delicious, intoxicating, unhurried; we were lost in the sensual embrace of our malleable lips, the discovery and loss of one another's tongues, touching, intertwining, unraveling, swept up in each other, repeating the cycle again and again. Time had lost all meaning, all context, and today as I experience it all again in my mind, the events of that evening are close enough that I smell the sex upon us both, feel the sweat upon my brow. Were it only that I could feel her lips on mine this night, once more, and that I was young again.

I recall the next few weeks as a period of constant, uninhibited sex, interrupted only by the necessity of work and periodic quests for food. Even our bathing became an excuse for touching, and for making love. Showering together, she would ask me to wash her back. Lathering her up, gently rubbing the wash cloth over her back, then her hips and ass, soaping the crack of her ass and moving the wash cloth between her cheeks, and then rinsing her with the shower head, watching the soap wash off her curves and run down her legs into the drain, was an extraordinarily sensual experience; one that inevitably led to love, and then rinsing off again in what could be an endless cycle, concluded only when the shower ran out of hot water.

One afternoon when I was off work, we were in a rare moment between bouts of lovemaking when we were both clothed and watching television. We sat on the sofa, cuddled together, her head on my shoulder.

She was in the mood for talking. "When did you realize how you felt about me?"

Avoiding the question, I gave the most obvious but least revealing answer;

"You're my mother. I've always loved you..."

"Don't be difficult. When did you know first know you wanted me? That you were attracted to me?"

"Ohhhh, you mean when did I realize I wanted to fuck you?"

She slapped my arm. "Be nice. When were you first attracted to me?"

"That's easy. ' I smiled. I liked this line of questioning. "When I was 12 or 13."

"Really? So early...Was that when you first began to notice other girls?" She asked, with just a hint of hurt at the thought.

"No...I only noticed you."

"Oh that's not true" she replied, but she smiled at my answer. "What was it like, to be attracted to your mother?"

I had to think about this question before answering. "Confusing...but exciting too. I loved to look at you, and you were there for me to see all the time. It was frustrating, because I couldn't touch you. I loved to imagine...but I felt guilty, too..I knew I wasn't supposed to be attracted to my mother, but I couldn't help it."

"What did you do about it?" she asked, a sly smile on her lips.

"The things that all young boys do." I replied with a chuckle. "I tried to see you...when you were in the bath, or unclothed. I'd pry open the bedroom door when you were getting dressed. Sometimes I'd just stare at you when you weren't looking, when you were laying on the floor, reading the paper or something."

"Reading the paper? How is that exciting?"

"Oh, you could be very sexy, laying on the floor right there, reading the paper... driving me crazy..."

"I can't believe that...just laying there?" She rose off the couch and knelt down on the floor in front of me, hands on her knees. "...like this?"

"No, I remember you laying with your stomach on the floor, facing away from me..."

"Ohhhh..." she said, suddenly realizing why her young son had found the position so enticing;

"Like thissss..." and she lay her stomach on the floor, recreating the scene just as I recalled it, sans- newspaper. "And what were you looking at, might I ask, while I innocently read the paper?"

She smiled, a sly, mischievous and seductive smile that inspired movement in my loins.

Laying on the floor before me, she turned away and lifted her torso by resting her arms on her elbows and holding her chin in her palms. Distracted in that coquettish way that suggests a woman knows everything you're thinking, and everything you can't turn away from, she bent her legs at the knees and dangled her feet nonchalantly in the air; first crossing, then uncrossing, and crossing again. The scene suggested she was indifferent to my gaze, when the truth was everything else but. Her ass rose like a tidal wave from the curve of her back, it's bold curves threatening to engulf me as I stared at her there on the floor before me.

"Does this ring a bell?" She asked while her legs moved back and forth like a pendulum, hypnotizing me with their rhythm. Turning towards me, her head in her right hand, and her left seductively running along her thigh, she asked again; "...or this?" She drew her hand across her ass.

Swallowing hard, nearly choking, I answered in the affirmative. With that she began a series of slow, seductive moves choreographed to draw attention to her backside and arouse desire in me.