The Mother Memories Chapter 6
I don’t know why she seemed surprised and struggled when she felt my cock entering
her slippery hole. She must have known I couldn’t settle for just my finger, that
I would fuck her despite the danger and the total absence of any defense should my
father awaken. But she did fight my entry and rather than put me off it excited me
to no end. The way her butt twisted and shook, first trying to evade me and then to
shake me off, was an incredible turn on.
What an exciting fuck! I grasped her longer braids, pressing into her back to hold
her still but I couldn’t stop her twisting hips. Though her upper torso was still,
her butt bucked like a little bronco, lifting off the blanket, emphasizing its shape
relative to her narrow waist. Yeah, I thought, fuck that. Fuck that! She wound me
up much quicker than I wanted. I had envisioned a long, slow, careful fuck that wouldn’t
disturb Dad but before I knew it I was lunging into her backside and cumming, blasting
my spunk inside her, my hard bare cock spewing into her unprotected cunt.
I collapsed on her back and then fell over onto my back. Recapturing my breath, I
reached down to pull my shorts up, opening my eyes to the bright afternoon sun, raising
my hand to block its glare. There, high above, on the bluff overlooking ours, two
people were looking down. Quickly, I looked over at Mom lying on her chest, hips raised
to allow her hands underneath to refasten her shorts. I looked back, seeing more clearly
now, a woman and a younger man, smiling down at us.
I sat up and was surprised to see that Dad was no longer lying on his back but had
turned onto his side, facing away from us. I hadn’t been aware of his movement. Mom
twisted around and sat up too.
“We should go,” I said.
“Yes,” she answered, turning to shake Dad’s shoulder. He awoke with a start and we
were soon packed up and on our way.
On the trail back, Dad led the way and seemed to be in a hurry. We had only gone about
a third of the way back before we caught up to three people, a family like ours. Dad
hiked quickly past them but Mom recognized the woman and stopped to say hi. Evidently,
they were casual acquaintances who exchanged pleasantries at the local gym.
I recognized her as the woman who had been looking down at us from the bluff and the
young man as her companion. He was watching me, a smug smirk on his face. It was disconcerting,
to say the least. The woman glanced at me several times while she and Mom talked.
Noticing, Mom introduced me as her son. The woman greeted me with a smile quite unlike
that of her son’s. We left after that. Mom turned away first and the woman regarded
me with a very frank appraisal. As I hurried to catch up to Mom, walking briskly in
a effort to catch up to Dad who hadn’t stopped, I thought about the woman and how
fine her body was despite her plain face. There was something about her that said,
‘Take the time, you won’t regret it.’
I couldn’t stop thinking about that woman all the way home — except for the parts
where Mom’s shorts emptied my head of any other thoughts. She and Mom knew each other,
and she and her son had seen us. What if she said something to people that knew Mom?
Mom had no idea we had been observed. Shouldn’t I tell her? I was quiet on the ride
home, and so were Mom and Dad.
It was still Mother’s day or, at least, Mother’s night.
We had a brief pit stop at home for everyone to get showered and changed and then
we were off to Mom’s favorite restaurant for dinner. Mom wore a conservative frilly
white blouse with black slacks, mentioning that her legs were too scratched up from
the hike to wear a dress. The blouse was made of a delicate material and Mom wore
a camisole underneath for extra protection but I could tell she wasn’t wearing a bra;
there was too much intriguing motion for that to be the case. Even though our afternoon
bout had only been over for an hour or so, it was hard to sit next to Mom without
admiring her or trying to sneak the odd clandestine touch. But I had to because my
father was uncharacteristically alert and attentive.
Dinner was dragged out by dessert and coffee despite the fact that neither I nor Dad
wanted anything. When we finally arrived home, I was tired from the strain of the
evening but both Mom and Dad were showing no sign of wear or tear. Of course, that
was understandable for Dad. I surmised that Mother’s day must be a special evening
for my parents and resigned myself to the fact that there would be no further extracurricular
activities for me that day. I watched part of a movie with them and said goodnight.
I would have to find a way to discuss the woman we’d met hiking the next day before
I went to school so Mom was pre-warned should they encounter each other, or someone
they both knew.
I had the wildest dreams that night. That woman was on me, fulfilling the implied
promise of rapturous sex. She had started by somehow sneaking under my covers at the
foot of my bed, licking my soles, dragging the tip of her stiffened tongue along the
sensitive underside of my arches, sucking my toes into her mouth one at a time before
trailing kisses and nibbles up my legs. Her tongue flicked between my thighs, digging
deep to get under my balls. I tried to grab her head to pull it up so I could shove
my cock down her throat but her incredibly strong hands gripped my wrists, holding
them by my sides.
She teased me mercilessly, slathering my balls with her tongue, then snaking it up
my shaft. It was so long, in this dream world, that it curled right around my lovestick
and it seemed to take ages for her to reach the top despite steady progress — I was
far longer in my mind that reality would support. She was finally there, licking my
head, drooling copious quantities of saliva before enveloping my cock with her cavernous
mouth, sliding all the way down until her lips smashed into my curlies, shaking her
head in a futile attempt to force an early ejaculation.
I still couldn’t free my hands to get hold of her head. I desperately wanted hold
her still, to take control, to shove my cock deep into her face, but she was too strong.
How? She was no bigger than my mother. And how was it that I could see her face so
clearly, my cock shoved down her throat, when I was lying on my back and she was still
under the covers? Ahhh, in a dream, anything can happen.
How fantastic her lips felt dragging up my shaft, how exquisite her tongue slipping
along the underside of my cock, how lovely the squeeze of her mouth around my tip
and the tickling squish of new saliva before she forced herself down until I banged
on the door of her throat again. God, again and again. How could a woman suck a cock
so well, a married, family woman? I couldn’t help it. I was going to cum. It was too
late to warn her, it was already gushing into my tube.
PAIN. Fuck! She was squeezing my balls. Shit. Owwww. Why did she do that?
Her mouth was off me, she was clambering up under the covers, her knees shifting in
jerks along my sides.
“Not yet,” she cried. “It’s still MOTHER’s day!”
What? I started to protest, to complain about not being able to cum, to explain that
I was younger than her husband and could still service her well, but my mouth was
suddenly covered by pussy. Excited and pungent cunt mashed against my face, filling
my nose with the scent of overheated womanhood. Now it was my head that was held in
a vice-like grip.
“Lick me,” she gasped, her thighs squeezing my chest as she was riding a pony bareback,
knees digging into the mattress to help her hips lever her cunt against my face. “Lick
me,” she repeated. “Eat me!”
I had no choice. I thrust my tongue out, making it as stiff as possible, hoping it
would titillate her ravaging pussy sufficiently to end this cuntal attack soon. She
was moving frantically now, banging my face, forcing me deep into the pillow, her
thighs spreading wide to follow me down. I gasped for breath, sucking air through
my nose.
“Yes … yesss … yessss!” she yelled.
This was no dream. This was real. And this was no dream woman, it wasn’t even another
mother. This was my mother. My Mom … banging my face.
I was suddenly bathed in a gush of pussy fluid. Soaking, rubbery lips slid over my
nose and back across my lips, pushing onto my chin, flooding my neck. Mom was gasping
and moaning, her hips bucking out of control, slowing slowly, broken by small jerks
and shudders, until finally, she was still.
I lifted my arms and grabbed her by the waist, lifting her, shifting her down, aided
by her straightening legs, until she was lying on top of me, heaving chest pushing
hard, steel-tipped nipples into my chest. I wrapped my arms around her, clutching
her sweaty body to mine, running my fingers through her wavy hair. The braids were
gone. I hugged her until her breath returned to normal, gently stroking her hair,
her back, kissing the top of her head, slipping my hand down to slide over the curve
of her ass.
Only when her breathing was completely normal did she speak to me.
“Put your cock in me,” she whispered, lifting her hips so I could rise up and find
her. “It’s still Mother’s day and I want you to fuck me, like this, the way I want
it.”
What could I do? Ever the dutiful son, I found her wet, sloshy hole and shoved my
cock inside, working hard. When I tired of lifting her weight, she took over, sitting
up, lifting herself almost off and dropping down with a thud and an extra push, sometimes
wrenching her clutching pussy around on my root, almost painfully.
“Do you like that?” she husked. “A little rough?” she shoved herself down and churned
hard. When I tried to pull her down to me, she grabbed my hair and forced my head
down, gritting her teeth, fucking hard. “Huh?” she cried. “This will teach you for
fucking me right beside your father.”
She rode me roughly until I was exhausted and just lying there. It was an intense
cum. I couldn’t move but wouldn’t have anyway. I loved the feel of her used body draping
over mine, her thighs spread over my hips, her pussy still covering my cock even though
it had slipped out of her minutes ago. She reached behind herself to grasp my hands
from where they were clasped around her waist, resting in the small of her back. Pulling
them apart, she pushed them down and up the rise of each buttock, guiding my fingers
into the crevasse separating her cheeks.
Mom pushed the longest finger of my right hand in, pressing until its tip brushed
over her little brown asterisk, the crinkly entrance to her dark hole. Visions of
the wildly exciting ride on her ass that afternoon burst into my head. What was she
hinting at? Was she really suggesting what I thought? Her hand rubbed my fingers back
and forth across her rosebud, hard enough that it dug in a little.
“Your Dad asked me to do something special for you on Father’s day,” she whispered.
WHAT? My mind swirled like a tornado, making my head dizzy. What?
I blacked out.
Ch. 6 – Summary: Father’s Day.
“Your Dad asked me to do something special for you on Father’s day.”
Those words replayed in my mind morning, noon and night. I just couldn’t shake them
loose. It was like my head was one giant echo chamber, a walking sea shell.
To make things worse, Mom put me on a starvation diet. Not food, of course. Mom treats
were few and far between. By the time Father’s Day was only a week away, Mom had let
me fuck her only twice since that fateful night when she’d whispered those deafening
words. She did, however, milk my cock with her hand several times.
The first time was after I asked if she needed help washing her hair. I had been bugging
her daily to brushed or braid her hair but when I came out with that Mother’s frown
indicated her clear displeasure. She walked into the kitchen and when I followed she
let me have it, dishing out a real tongue-lashing, but not the kind I would have liked.
“What the hell are you up to?” she demanded angrily.
Though whispered, the intensity in her voice was more effective than the blare of
the train blasting by. Of course, I just looked dumb as if I had no idea what she
was talking about.
“Are you retarded?” she hissed.
I looked around toward the living room, sure that bullet would be heard but her voice
probably hadn’t carried past me. I turned back to Mom’s face which wore an expression
typically paired with, “Duh!”
I shrugged my shoulders, my hands opening and lifting at my sides.
“Do you think your father is stupid?”
Again, I just shrugged, not knowing what to say. I felt like a deer caught in headlights
and was afraid to speak in case I said the wrong thing.
Mom’s expression softened when she recognized my dilemma.
“Baby,” she said, more kindly. “You have to be smarter.”
I answered with an ‘I know but can’t help it look.’
Mom suddenly seemed to be all soft and feminine. She stepped toward me.
“I know,” she said. “It’s hard to think when that thing is armed, isn’t it?” Mom looked
down at my boner which hadn’t subsided in my jeans despite her tirade. I don’t know
how I had managed to get up from the couch and walk into the kitchen without my father
noticing my odd gait. Mom’s hand stretched out, pointing down with her palm up.
“It’s hard, isn’t it,” she whispered, the double entendre not lost on me but was obliterated
as soon as her hand cupped my scrotum. “It won’t be long now,” she whispered, her
head tipping up to direct her voice straight at my ear, her palm rubbing me as if
to emphasize how wonderful ‘soon’ would be.
“Do you need something tonight?” she asked, rubbing harder but not faster, the heel
of her hand grinding against the underside of my cock, forcing it into my belly.
“Can’t you wait?” she whispered, her fingers closing on my balls as her hand moved
faster.
I nodded more vigorously each time, first yes, then no.
Mom stood on tippy toes and slid her tongue out to flick my neck. Her hand was rubbing
furiously now, almost painfully, but I didn’t care. She stopped talking and breathed
heavily into my neck, just below my ear, communicating her own excitement. My arms
circled her shoulder to help me stay on my feet. My legs felt weak and my knees felt
like they might buckle.
“I’ll given you a little present tonight,” she whisp
ered.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, I nodded.
“Would you like that?”
Yeah, yeah. I was speechless, my hips grinding against her cruel hand, the heel of
her palm rubbing and twisting right on my cockhead.
“I’ll come fuck you,” she said in a throaty whisper.
I erupted in pants, clasping her to me, loving the way she ket rubbing me, more softly,
urging me to discharge every ounce of my cum. When my hips were still, she patted
my damp crotch, gave me a quick kiss, and said, “There, that should hold you until
tonight.”
“Now, behave yourself,” Mom added, walking by me to the door.
I promised myself I would. It wasn’t until I was lying in bed, waiting for Mom, that
I realized her anger must mean that Dad really didn’t know what was going on, that
he hadn’t actually asked her to do the special thing she had hinted at. Didn’t it?
In a way, I was disappointed. If Dad had known, if he’d actually asked her, then I
could have Mom openly without any need to hide. On the other hand, the thrill of fucking
her right under his nose when he didn’t know was perhaps too much too give up. I wasn’t
sure what I wanted but I resolved to ask Mom what the real situation was that night.
I fell asleep. Can you believe it?
It was completely dark when I woke up and I felt like I was still in a dream. Mom
was on top of me, lying very still. I was on my back, head turned to the side, looking
at the big red numbers on my clock. It was just after four in the morning. No wonder
I had fallen asleep. My cock was hard, very hard. How long had she been milking it,
her palpitating muscles steadily dragging it deeper into her cunt?
“Finally,” she whispered. “Were your dreaming, about being in my pussy?”
She ground her hips and squeezed her muscles hard. My cock felt like it was being
exquisitely crushed in a circular vice. I groaned out loud.
“Oh, so you like that,” she laughed.
I started fucking up at her but she used her weight to dampen my thrusts, laughing
harder.
“Not so fast,” she instructed. “I want it slow and hard.”
And that was how it went. As long as I pushed up slow, as far as I could, I was allowed
to fuck her, but as soon as I humped faster, she shut me down. The whole time she
whispered encouragingly in my ear, that is, when she wasn’t swirling her warm tongue
around in there. She was hot. She could have been any woman you cared to imagine,
but she was the only one I pictured in my mind. I didn’t cum, I detonated. My back
lifted completely off the bed as my whole body tensed, held aloft by head and heels,
every muscle engaged in bursting my sperm into Mom’s pussy, the best pussy in the
world. Her deep, sultry laugh goaded me on until I collapsed, exhausted.
She was gone before I remembered to ask her about Dad’s request.
Over the next few days, Mom wore clothes that accented her behind. Although she wasn’t
obvious, I knew she was teasing me. I struggled not to say or do anything inappropriate
which was all the harder because she didn’t let me touch her for days. I was treated,
or tortured, with several days of tight shorts and jeans that hugged her buttocks
and separated her cheeks as if announcing a womanly welcome. Once, while looking at
her jeans as she and Dad were talking, I imagined that her ass was speaking directly
to me, “Fuck me, come on, fuck me.”
I gave my head a shake just as Dad looked up at something, I guess whatever they’d
been discussing, and Mom turned around to look at me, smiling enigmatically as she
straightened one leg taut, lifting that hip, and placed her hand on its buttock.
“What was that, dear?” she turned back to follow my father’s gaze.
That night Mom headed me off just outside her bedroom door as I tried to enter. I
had heard the shower come on in their room, not surprising since I had been waiting
in the hallway. As I leaned against the wall in the hallway outside their bedroom,
Mom’s hand snaked inside my pajamas and fished my cock out. Her arm curled around
my neck as she stretched up to kiss me, jacking my cock throughout a long and sensuous
embrace.
She looked down when we finished and, her breath as short as mine, said, “It looks
like you need it again.” Her hand didn’t stop pumping my cock. “Do you like that?”
she cooed.
Well, yeah.
Her hand gripped me tightly, rubbing hard down the length of my shaft, then squeezing
so hard as she pulled my cock up that I though the head would come off.
“Do you want it again?”
I nodded, a pleading expression filling my face. Up and down, she continued her harsh
masturbation.
“Do you want me to?” she demanded.
I nodded, looking at the ceiling, trying to hide the desperation in my eyes. I was
completely surprised when her mouth engulfed my cock. Shocked, I looked down to see
her wonderful head of hair pumping up and down, vigorously sucking my joyous member
right down to the root. My hands dropped to her head but when I tried to hold her
down she batted my hands away. I backed off, acceding to her demand.
She was almost biting my cock but it still felt wonderful. In a matter of seconds
I released a torrent, a veritable flood built up over three days of her dangling that
Mom ass in my face. A picture of me sliding between her cheeks filled my head as I
filled hers. Take that, I cried to myself, thrusting forward, shoving my cock into
her throat, holding her head to stop her from pulling away, thrilled that she let
me.
“That’s it until Father’s day,” she said when she straightened up and then quickly
disappeared into her room, shutting the door behind her.
I noticed that the shower had stopped. When? I wondered, hobbling to my room, pajamas
almost down to my knees.
I woke up with Mom splayed over my cock again. It was just after four in the morning,
like the last time. I hadn’t expected her after her parting remark. Had she changed
her mind or planned this all along? Who cared? I started fucking her slowly, like
before.
“Faster,” she urged, displeased. “Come on, fuck me harder.”
I thrust faster and harder, lifting us both off the bed. It wasn’t enough. She yelled
in my ear.
“Come on! Fuck me!”
I went wild, digging my heels and elbows in the bed, throwing myself up at her, almost
trying to heave her clutching pussy off my cock, to no avail. Try as I might, she
rode me like a rodeo star, goading me on, mocking me, then just hanging on and cooing
in my ear as I convulsed inside her, emptying my spunk insider her.
“That’s it, that’s it,” she cried, hugging me close. “Give me everything, baby, squirt
it in me.”
She disappeared quickly again but no matter, I wasn’t going to ask her anything anyway.
I was happy the way things were going. It was only a week away now.
You’d have thought she might have some mercy that last week, especially after telling
me I wasn’t getting any more until Father’s day. But no. She wore the same tight shorts
and ass-defining jeans but added short skirts to top it off. But that wasn’t the worst.
Every night in the living room, she sat opposite me, twisting her hips to the side
and pu
lling her legs up but holding her feet far enough out that I could see her accented
bottom and the bare backs of her upper legs. And she always found a moment to suddenly
look at me and flash that enigmatic smile, slowly closing her eyes just long enough
for her lashes to flutter on her cheeks.
Ah, cheeks. I couldn’t keep that word out of my head. I pictured those beautiful globes
for hours in my head, at home and all day at school. I couldn’t think of anything
else. All my time on the internet was now spent watching ass fucking or reading up
on how to get a woman to enjoy anal sex. That was a good thing because my first impulse
for Father’s day had bee to upend Mom at the first opportunity and shove my hard cock
into her behind. I learned that if I did that, it would be the shortest ass fuck in
history, and my last, at least with Mom. So I researched and read carefully.
Slow, slow, everything I read told me. Use lots of lube and relieve yourself first.
This latter was usually a caution to women readers to get their lover off first so
they didn’t lose control and ruin the experience for both of them. I did the equivalent
of a year long correspondence course in anal sex in one week. If astrophysics was
ass fucking, I would have been put in charge of the space program.
Friday. I left school early so I could get a ride home with Mom from her club before
she went home, thinking I might even be early enough to catch her still working out.
No such luck. I spotted her sitting in the food court on the way in. I was about to
join her when I recognized the woman sitting with her. It was the one we’d met on
the trail, the one that had watched us from the bluff.
I figured they knew each other but I thought in just a passing fashion, like recognizing
someone you passed when changing machines. Not a coffee partner. Yet, there they were,
in cheerful, animated discussion, hands waving, and tossing smiles and laughs in abundance.
What the hell was this?
I slunk back into the hallway outside the cafeteria, lurking and watching, trying
to figure out what this obviously closer friendship meant. They hadn’t seemed so friendly
on the trail. Was this new, then? Or, had Mom been surprised to see her friend and
felt uncomfortable given what had happened only moments before? As my mind chewed
through the possibilities, both women suddenly stood and turned to the exit, walking
toward me, still talking. Mom’s friend looked up, spied me, and said something to
Mom who then looked up with a big smile, beckoning to me.
“Michael, what a lovely surprise,” she said, walking up to me and taking my hand.
Turning to her friend, she said, “Do you remember Alicia, from our hike the other
day?”
I shook my head and though I’m sure Alicia had seen the recognition in my face when
she had first spotted me, she graciously played along.
“Hello, Michael. It’s so nice to meet you. Your mother has told me so much about you.”
Her voice was soft and silky and her smile seemed to convey a hidden message that
she knew a lot more than her perfunctory statement indicated.
“Oh, don’t listen to Mom,” I blushed slightly. “I’m just an ordinary guy, like your
son,” I burst out, blowing my feigned ignorance about meeting her on the trail, but
both women let it pass.
“No,” she mused. “Not ordinary and certainly not like my son.” She smiled sweetly,
and then provacatively looked me up and down. I blushed again.
Alicia grabbed Mom’s arm and walked her away. “Come on, Emily, walk me to my car.”
I followed these two attractive, fortyish women, leaning into one another as they
walked and giggling like schoolgirls. Though they were different and couldn’t be mistaken
for each other, they were similar in many ways, and one in particular. If you were
just looking at their gorgeous behinds, you’d be hard pressed to say which was whose.
I’m sure I drew more than one frown as we walked out of the club, my eyes glued on
the two sexy asses in front of me. A leer is so obvious, especially to women, but
I didn’t care.
At the car, Alicia managed to stand between us, her facing Mom and me staring at her
ass which she managed to sway about. She even said something so funny to her and Mom
that they both bent over laughing, her cheeks straining against her tight, white shorts.
My boner grew uncomfortable in my jeans. When we left, as soon as Mom turned away,
Alicia looked directly down at my bulging pants and smiled.
In our car, Mom said, “She’s nice, isn’t she?”
“Sure,” I answered, as flippantly as I could, guiding the car out of the parking lot.
“You sure seemed to like her,” Mom poked the side of my knee with her toe, evidently
having dropped her sandal on the floor.
“Mom,” I complained. “Put your seatbelt on.”
Defiant, Mom poked me with her toe again. “Come on, admit it,” she said, glancing
down into my lap. “I can see you really liked her.”
“Whatever you say, Mom.”
“I could feel your eyes,” Mom persisted. “But not all the time. I wonder where they
were?” she teased.
“Mom,” I said, exasperated.
“She fills out a pair of shorts nicely, doesn’t she?” Mom twisted sideways on the
seat, crossing her right leg over her knee, stretching it out and bringing it to rest
on my thigh.
“So do you,” I replied.
Mom ignored my compliment. “Did you like her shorts?” Mom’s heel dug into my leg,
pulling it toward her while her foot twisted and pointed her toes into my lap, pressing
against the bulge her teasing had produced.
“I like yours better,” I tried again. “She has her own son to admire hers.”
Mom dug her foot in, using the balls of her foot to rub my jeans.
“But her son isn’t as handsome as mine, or as loving,” Mom purred, her foot rubbing
my cock. I didn’t answer. I was trying to stay focused on the road.
“What would you do with a pair of shorts like that?” Mom pestered.
“You’ll find out on Father’s day,” I growled.
“Ohhhhh, so intense,” she teased.
“Mom. I’m driving.”
“Then you’d better hurry home.”
Mom’s foot softly rubbed my cock the rest of the way home. Unfortunately, Dad’s car
was parked in his spot on the far side of the driveway. He was already home. I pulled
up beside it.
“I think we should put the car in the garage early today.” Mom laid her head on the
seat, her foot lazily scraping up and down the front of my jeans as she smiled at
me, fingers toying with my shirt sleeve.
The garage door was still closing and I had just shut off the engine when Mom’s hands
roughly pulled me out of my jeans. Holding me upright, her mouth closed over my cock.
She was rough again but this time didn’t push my hands away when they closed over
the back of her head. I probably would have thrust her face against the roof but the
steering wheel restricted my movements. Still, I held her head firmly in my crotch,
grinding it down on my cock, thrilled as she gurgled for breath, foolishly undisturbed
by her choking gasps. Triumphantly, I splattered her tonsils, remorse seeping into
my brain only after I filled her mouth.
She didn’t swallow it. Instead, she let it gurgle out, streaming and oozing
down my
shaft, soaking my jeans. Mom looked up, a wanton, horny woman with a streak of cum
dribbling over her lip onto her chin. Her eyes were wild and excited as she swiped
my goo away with the back of her hand.
“I’ll keep Dad busy while you sneak upstairs.”
Saturday. Tomorrow was Father’s day. Mom was dressed in an absolutely killer outfit,
shortie white shorts with a matching sleeveless top that emphasized her tanned and
supple upper arms, and hugged her sides to accent the narrowness of her waist, the
wide flare of her hips, and the jut of her firm ass. Her top was unbuttoned deep between
her small breasts to ward off the heat, but not my eyes which dipped into her tanned
cleavage.
Several times that day she sat in the patio lounge, one leg resting over the other,
foot dangling a sandal languidly up and down in the oppressing heat, before struggling
up and walking barefoot across the grass to remove an offending weed from the garden.
Always, she bent over with her ass pointing directly at me, pulling on her victim
with gentle force so the roots wouldn’t snap and stay in place to grow again. Such
care took time, time for her buttocks to press against her shorts, to move with the
slight sway as her legs adjusted to minute variations in the force applied by her
arms, cheeks alternately tensing with the effort to maintain the balance of the sexiest
weeding machine on the planet. ‘Soon,’ they whispered.
Towards the end of the day, as Dad and I shared the double lawn chair divided by a
shared, built-in table, Mom stretched out face down on the lounge in front of us.
Dad was engrossed in a book while I was enamored with, well, you know what I was looking
at.
Mom’s feet were crooked in about a foot apart, leaving a slight part between her tanned
legs all the way up to her shorts. Without looking back, Mom’s hands suddenly lifted
from her sides and came to rest at the back of her shorts. Grasping the hem of each
leg, she pulled her shorts up high on her ass, allowing her cheeks to bulge out and
stretching the material tightly against her crotch. Casually, with the legs of her
shorts so lifted, Mom’s fingers reached in scratched the inner sides of her cheeks
for at least a minute before letting her shorts loose and dropping her hands back
to her sides. Several seconds later, she turned head to look back to deploy a cheeky
smile.
It was a long night, probably the longest one in my life. I reviewed my notes from
my internet research, over and over.
Father’s Day. I was up early, in more ways than one, but I wasn’t the first one, at
least in that other respect. Both of my parents were up, already finishing breakfast
when I arrived in the kitchen. Mom smiled at my surprise to find them both up so early.
Only Dad seemed surprised to see me.
“Oh, good morning,” I said. “What’s up?”
Before either of them could answer, I followed up with, “Happy Father’s Day, Dad.”
I rushed over and bent down to give him a big hug.
Dad clasped me back in a manly, bear-like embrace, hands slapping my shoulders.
“Thanks, son,” Dad said as we released each other and I straightened up. “I’m sorry
I can’t be here.”
I immediately looked confused. I was elated at the opportunity to be alone with Mom,
but I really was confused. Dad was always home on Father’s Day. We always did something
special together, and it was usually a surprise.
“I have a very special meeting in New York, Monday morning so I have to leave,” he
explained, nodding toward the front door where his suitcase and laptop bag sat in
the entranceway. “Perhaps you can give me a lift to the airport?”
I nodded, “Sure Dad.”
“I knew this was coming but I had hoped to reschedule so I didn’t say anything,” Dad
explained further. “But I couldn’t. This day has always meant a lot to us, so I’ve
asked your mother to fill in for me, to do something special with you today. Would
that be OK?”
Mom smiled. I beamed back at Dad, “Sure Dad. We’ll think of something.”
“Great, son.” Dad said, getting to his feet. “I warned Mom a while ago, so I think
she has something planned, but it’s a secret,” he turned and smiled at Mom. “I’m sure
she’ll think of something very special. You can fill me in when I get back.”
Mom stood as well. “You’d better get going. You’ll be late.” Mom stretched up and
gave Dad a hug and a kiss.
Dad went to get his bags and I retrieved my running shoes and knelt down beside him
to put them on.
“Here,” Mom said, thrusting a scrap of paper at me, letting it fall to the floor when
I didn’t take it, too busy tying my shoes. “I have some things for you to pick up
before you come home.”
“Be careful,” Mom said to Dad, her hand brushing his arm as she leaned in to give
him another kiss goodbye.
I looked down at the paper which was lying face up with its single item clearly legible
in felt pen:
– KY jelly
I stared, my hands frozen in mid-tie. Time slowed, then quickly restarted as my foot
reached forward and stepped on the note.
Jesus, god! What was she thinking?
The drive to the airport was a blur. I must have automatically driven safely because
Dad didn’t say anything. He didn’t want me to go inside to wait with him and I was
pleased about that. I rushed home, nearly forgetting Mom’s note. Did she really mean
for me to get that? Where would I find it?
I stopped at a drug store and spent half an hour looking for KY jelly without any
success. I finally girded up the courage to ask a guy working in the store. He laughed
and said they didn’t have that, suggesting an adult shop downtown. I went beet red
and the guy took pity on me, indicating for me to follow as he walked away, explaining
that they did have some petroleum jelly that was almost as ‘soothing’ to the skin.
I headed home, armed with several jars of petroleum jelly. My face had almost returned
to its normal shade by the time I pulled into the driveway.
I ran to the door. It was locked. Locked? I dropped the keys twice before I managed
to get the door open. I ran into the kitchen and looked outside for Mom. She wasn’t
there. I ran upstairs after taking my running shoes off. Then I remembered that I
had left the bag with the petroleum jelly in the car. I ran outside in my stocking
feet and got it. I stopped to catch my breath when I returned to the house. That’s
when I started to get some sense. Slow down, knucklehead. Get a grip on yourself,
remember your research.
I forced myself to calm down and then walked with exaggerated slowness up the stairs
and down the hallway to Mom’s room. The door was ajar, almost closed. I pushed it
open and stepped inside.
What a sight. Mom was lying face down on the bed, stretched over a pair of stacked
pillows, arms at her sides disappearing under her hips, busy somewhere underneath
as betrayed by the tiny movements of the bare ass above. Oh, that lovely, gorgeous
ass that I had been dreaming of and ogling for weeks, now uncovered before me, parted
legs hiding nothing, certainly not her dewey, lightly haired pussy.
“Like what you see?” Mom’s asked playfully.
I nodded.
“Better than a pair of shorts?”
“Yesss,” I hisse
d, moving toward the bed, shedding my shirt.
As I stood at the foot of the bed, admiring her body, I noticed a jar of KY jelly
and a couple of plastic squeeze bottles of clear lubricant on the bed beside Mom.
My eyes followed the curves up her body until they met hers looking intensely into
mine.
“You’re wondering why I sent you to the store?”
“Yes.”
“You had to ask for it, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Was it embarrassing?”
“Yes,” my face reddened from the memory.
Mom lifted her ass and moved it in a small, sensous circle.
“Was it worth the effort?”
“Yes!” I replied, emphatically.
“Get undressed,” Mom hissed, arching her ass.
I dropped my jeans and shorts and crawled onto the bed.
“Take off your socks,” Mom ordered in a jarring, motherly tone.
I did as she asked, fumbling in my haste. Naked, I clambered up behind her. She was
surprised when I dropped to her side, propped up on my elbow, facing her. I could
see it in her facem, that she had expected me to push my cock between her cheeks right
away. That’s why she’d been fingering herself and was already well lubricated. I reached
down and placed my hand on her bum, stretching my fingers down between her legs. As
I suspected, they were already slippery. She’d prepared herself, ready for the onslaught
she was sure I couldn’t stop after weeks of anticipation.
Well, she’d teased me mercilessly for weeks. And in those weeks, I’d armed myself
with sufficient knowledge to tease her for a few tortuous hours. I didn’t possess
practiced skills, but I was willing to take the time to learn.
I pulled my hand away from her legs and skinned my fingers and palm lightly over her
cheeks, moving around slowly, taking time to explore the shape of each individual
cheek. I caressed her bottom for several minutes, all the while gazing into her eyes
with a deadpan expression. I didn’t push my fingers between her cheeks to feel the
forbidden hole. That was for later. Soon, but later.
I leaned forward to kiss the corner of Mom’s mouth. “I love my mother’s ass,” I whispered.
I reached under her with my free hand, sliding under her tit, pinching her hard nipple,
reveling in the pleased wince that crossed her face. “I’m going to kiss it, and lick
it, and worship it with my tongue.” Mom’s eyes closed as if she was imagining it.
I softly pinched her buttocks. “But first I’m going to suck my mother’s beautiful
little tits.”
I pushed my head into her side, forcing her shoulder up as my face nuzzled the side
of her breast. My hand pulled her tit toward me, feeding her long nipple into my mouth.
I sucked it in hard.
“Ohhh, baby,” Mom cried. “Suck me.”
I did. I sucked and sucked her tit, my hand continuing to caress her buns, fingers
straying between her legs to tease the bottom of her wet pussy. When I finally pulled
my face off her tit, my fingertips were dipped into her slit, brushing sideways back
and forth, expanding her puffy, wet lips. Propping myself up on my other elbow, I
surveyed Mom’s willing body, her parted legs and trembling buttocks.
I reached for one of the squeeze bottles that she had placed on the bed and aligned
its nozzle with the crack of Mom’s ass. I squeezed, expelling a stream of viscous
oil into her crack, watching in fascination as it slowly oozed between her tightly
pressed cheeks. As it magically disappeared, I squeezed in more to replace it, and
then again.
Dropping the bottle to the bed, I leaned in so I could whisper in Mom’s ear. My fingertips
began tracing a line up and down her crack, as softly as I could, teasing her flesh.
“I can imagine what it would be like to see you for the first time, from behind,”
I whispered, fingers trailing along her crack. “The first time … ever I saw …
your ass.” Stroking, stroking, right down to her pussy, and then up, tickling her
perineum before returning to tease her crack.
“God, that very first look. To see that woman’s ass for the first time,” I whispered,
“and wonder what it would feel like to brush against her tush.”
Mom groaned and turned her face into the bed. I followed, keeping my mouth by her
ear, whispering.
“To see the look in her face as she watched me in the mirror, walking toward her through
the store, to the rack she was standing beside flipping through skirts. To see her
apprehension, knowing I was going to do it, that I was going to brush myself against
her bottom, in public, and that even so, she would shamelessly respond, pushing her
ass back to offering the promise of her dark, secret hole.”
Mom moaned into the mattress.
“Never before taken, never before offered,” my whisper intensified.
Mom turned her face toward me again. “Never,” she hissed.
I pushed my thumb between her slippery, rubbery cheeks until my thumbprint skidded
across her puckered hole.
“Oh, god,” Mom cried.
I leaned down, dipping my tongue in her ear as my thumb gently rubbed the entrance
to her back door, and then slid past. She groaned but I took pity on her and stretched
my long middle finger back to stand in for my thumb, rubbing its fingerprint softly
over her crinkly donut.
I whispered as I tickled her hole, about how I would slowly work her to the back of
the store, into a fitting room, pull her skirt and panties down her legs and spread
them as she leaned against the mirror. I told her how I wouldn’t be able to stop myself
from kissing and licking such beautiful cheeks, pushing my tongue in deeper to tickle
her pussy before poking into her dirty hole.
I wasn’t aware when my finger first crooked and dipped into Mom’s hole but I suddenly
realized that her crinkle was gripping my first knuckle and my fingertip was knocking
on her inner ring. Her ass was quivering slightly, pulling away but immediately pushing
back, as if confused about whether to repel an intruder or welcome a guest. My finger
moved easily into this tiny hallway but was blocked by a pulsating door that opened
briefly to solicit its entrance but quickly closed before the invitation could be
accepted.
I stopped whispering in Mom’s ear then, pulling my head away and moving to hover over
her ass. I used my free hand to pull Mom’s cheeks apart so I could see my finger more
clearly. I pulled it away to see Mom’s little hole, no longer closed like a butterfly
shutter, but open like a black nickel. I lowered my head and dipped my tongue down
to touch it, flicking all around and then inserting the tip into the little hallway
until the sides filled her ring, wiggling.
“Oh, God!” Mom yelled.
I pulled my head back and grinned at her ass. Yes. Now we’re talking. You’re going
to regret all that teasing, I thought. I lowered my head and began teasing her asshole
with my flicking tongue.
There were many more moans. I poked and flicked and licked for a long time. Several
fingers were inserted into her pussy by the time I lifted my head again, moving slowly,
nothing fast. I wanted her to ache for it.
I raised my head, pulled my fingers from her pussy, and grabbed a tube of lube. Mom
lay panting on the bed, breath ragged and hoarse. I sq
uirted copious quantities of
lube all around her hole, then spread her cheeks wide apart with both hands, stretching
her hole. Her inner ring was no longer closing on me, my tongue had seen to that.
Carefully, I inserted a finger into the darkness. It was briefly gripped and then
released, then grabbed and let go several times in rapid succession.
I pulled my gooey finger out, then carefully reinserted it. Several more times, then
I started moving it steadily in and out. A minute after her ass began rising to meet
me, I stopped and inserted the tip of a second finger. Very, very slowly, I pressed
down but it was her rising hips that forced my fingers fully inside. She began thrusting
her hips rapidly up and down, shoving her ass onto my fingers, moaning and groaning
into the mattress. When her fuck motions were steady, I pulled my fingers out to a
loud, desperate groan.
Quickly, I stretched myself over her ass, looking down at her pussy. I pulled her
cheeks apart again, and allowed two fingers to just dip inside but my chest stopped
her from shoving her ass up far enough to envelop them. I stretched my neck down,
lowering my head until my tongue could reach between her legs and started licking
her pussy and perineum. Her ass humped wildly back at me but I kept my fingers dipped
in far enough to just pierce her inner ring. She came hard when my tongue reached
her ass again, shuddering violently, her thighs quivering like she was being shocked.
I kept my fingers inside her, stretching her ring as my tongue kept tickling around
her hole while her orgasm settled. She was still for a while but then her ass began
moving involuntarily again. Minutes later, I pushed my fingers deep until they were
fully plugged inside her. Her ass shuddered to a stop and I kept my fingers still.
Again, after a minute, she began to move again. Just barely, but soon, she was humping
up onto my fingers. I pushed them in, past the second knuckles until they widened.
Holding them there, I pushed Mom’s ass down into the pillow. It was time.
I scrambled around behind her, between her now widely spread legs. She opened them
even more in anticipation. Picking up the jar of KY, I opened it and slathered it
all over my rock hard cock, then pushed more onto and between her cheeks. I tossed
the jar onto the bed so hard it bounced onto the floor. I leaned forward, nosing my
cock to Mom’s hole, gaping in front of me.
The tip slid inside easily but when the wider head filled her until her ring closed
tightly around it, Mom’s hand suddenly flung back, palm toward me. I stopped, but
held my ground. I didn’t pull away. Mom’s hand fell to the bed.
Mom kept a steady pressure against my cock and, slowly, interminably, I pressed forward
until suddenly, I just popped through the inner ring. Mom’s hand flew up again so
I stopped though I desperately wanted to shove home. She exerted no pressure this
time. We just lay there, her on her tummy with ass raised up and me leaning forward,
cock barely inserted inside her ass.
Mom’s hand dropped to the mattress and the steady pressure began again. Slowly, slowly,
my shaft moved further and further inside. A couple of minutes later, my groin pressed
against Mom’s cheeks. I was all the way in!
I didn’t pull out and Mom didn’t pull away. She pushed back a little harder and I
pressed in with equal force. She moved her ass around and I slowly churned my hips,
helping her make the circle. We kept this up for several minutes, the circle growing
wider in tiny increments as Mom began making odd sounds. These were new fuck sounds
I hadn’t heard before and it excited me tremendously. I started grinding the circle
harder and Mom responded with louder grunts and more strange sounds.
I started grinding harder and Mom responded. We were moving back and forth now but
my cock wasn’t moving in and out of her ass, we were too closely attuned. But we were
grinding rapidly against each other, rocking to and fro on the bed. My very first
ass fuck, and Mom’s too. She kept shoving her ass back, impaling herself on my grinding,
ass-loving dick. This was so incredibly good.
I stopped suddenly, grasped a handful of her hair, and pulled my cock back, stopping
when the head was widening her sphincter again, then shoved it back in. This was repeated
again and again, a slow, teasing retreat followed by a vigorous forward lunge. I pressed
on the outside of Mom’s widespread thighs and she obligingly closed her legs. I shoved
myself in deep and straddled her ass. Picking her hair up, I gently tugged her head
back, far enough to look wildly sexy but not too uncomfortable for her. I started
fucking her ass in earnest. Mom seemed to love it, knowing I was riding her, riding
her ass.
I quickly changed my trot into a long comfortable lope which I held for quite a respectable
time before I couldn’t hold back from a finishing gallop. It was a furious attack
and I let Mom’s head fall to the mattress as I pressed both hands onto her shoulders
to hold myself steady, in constant danger of rocking myself off her slippery hole.
Fuck, the way her cheeks squished up when I slammed into her. The spongy feel of it.
Amazing!
I meant to pull out and cum on her ass but I didn’t. I emptied myself in her bum.
I straddled her limp body for some time, twitching inside her until my cock softened
and slipped out. I collapsed on the bed and was only dimly aware of Mom getting up,
followed by the sound of the shower.
It was barely noon.
I toweled myself dry and walked into the bedroom naked. Mom was lying on her back,
eyes closed, her breathing shallow. She was napping. I crept onto the bed, careful
not to disturb her, and waited a minute or so just to be sure before slipping my hands
under her knees and lifting her legs up. Before I set her down, I pushed the pillows
so they lay squarely under her bottom. Holding her bent legs pushed back but held
together, I marveled at the rosy pussy and asshole lewdly exposed before me. My cock
began reacting to the sight, stiffening like a long balloon being pumped full.
She looked so sexy like that, her hips raised, legs bent back. Her skin was so soft
and feminine. I was really hard now, my cock bobbing above her pussy and the hole
beneath it exposed by her spread cheeks. Holding her feet in place near my shoulder,
I picked up a squeeze bottle and squirted the slippery oil along the length of my
shaft, missing several times as it bobbed about. I squeezed the rest of the bottle
all over her pussy and ass, soaking her soft fur in an oily mass.
Tossing the bottle, I manipulated Mom’s pussy with my fingers and thumb, gently massaging
and parting her pubes, circling her clit, briefly plugging my thumb inside only to
quickly withdraw to trace yet another circle around her cunt. Near the bottom, I dangled
my fingers down to tease her asshole but not every time. I mixed it up, trying to
surprise her, hanging on the slightest response — the barest twitch of her lip to
fleetingly form a smile, a tightening around her closed eyes — that was my reward.
I did this for a long time and Mom never opened her eyes or gave any indication that
she was awake.
Cautiously, I leaned forward, pushing my cock down until it nugded the glistening
asterisk under her pussy. My tip was welcomed inside, just barely, inserting half
an inch until the h
elmet filled the breach. A frown crossed Mom’s face and her head
shook slowly from side to side. I held still, restarting my teasing manipulation of
her pussy, propping her calves across my left shoulder and reaching down to gently
pinch and roll her right nipple. Her frown persisted. Perhaps it was too soon to have
her ass again.
I started talking, trying to distract her. What to say? I began talking about her
friend, what a nice ass she had, almost as good as Mom’s. I wondered if her son would
appreciate it as much as I did hers and imagined a scene with that pimply face geek
pushing a surprisingly long but thin cock between Alicia’s cheeks.
My cock popped inside. Every nerve in my body tingled with exhileration. Yes! Success.
I continued my whispered story, describing how exquisite his long rod felt as it slid
through Alicia’s slippery back door, how much she loved feeling the thickness of its
head, how full it made her feel. How fantastic Alicial thought it felt to be fucked
in the ass by her own son.
I was moving slowly in and out now. My hand had left Mom’s tit to hold her legs in
place while I fucked her ass. My other hand remained on her pussy but I could only
spare enough brain power to hold my thumb inside, wiggling it inside her cunt in concert
with my thrusts into her ass.
I lost the story. My mind couldn’t keep it up but that was ok. Mom was moaning with
each thrust now. I’m sure she was past my whispered narration and concentrating on
how good it felt to have her son fuck her ass. I had moved her legs further back and
was squatting over her bent hips, banging her in long strokes, pausing to root around,
pulling out slowly, holding my head at her entrance to maximize the stretch before
slamming back in for yet another grind. My hands returned to her chest, a tit and
nipple firmly gripped by each, squeezing on the in thrust and grind, releasing on
withdrawal.
We weren’t quiet. Though Mom’s eyes still hadn’t opened, she was moaning and grunting
loudly. So was I, but strangely, we didn’t groan in unison. Our sounds reminded me
of a bunch of pigs I had watched years ago when we visited a local farm on a school
trip. That weird memory triggered a frantic release and I began humping Mom’s ass
with wild abandon, grunting like a whole herd of pigs.
My second release. This time I pulled out of Mom’s ass and sprayed my spunk first
on her pussy and tummy, then grabbed my cock and aimed it at her tits, finally leaning
forward in an attempt to squirt some on her face but I could only pump hard enough
to hit her chin by then. I thought she would give me shit for such vulgar treatment
but she just smiled at me when she finally opened her eyes.
“Like that, do you?” she laughed.
I nodded, my flushed face being answer enough.
As I recovered my breath, Mom lying before me with her feet now firmly planted on
the mattress, legs spread wide, my cum spread up her torso, Mom said, “Alicia’s son
is too dumb to know what he could have. It’s a shame, really. Especialy since her
husband is such an asshole.”
I nodded, more interested in the wad of spunk dripping down Mom’s chin, and the fact
she hadn’t bothered to wipe it away, than hearing about Alicia’s stupid, geeky son.
“I’m going to invite them over for dinner next weekend. Just Alicia and her husband.
Maybe he won’t be able to come.”
4. Canoeing with Mom
Ch. 01 – Son learns new techniques from Mom.
All characters are eighteen or older.
My mother, Myra, my father, and I went on a canoe trip the summer before I started
college. It was something my parents had wanted to do for years but couldn’t because
of my father’s heart condition until his recent apparent return to health and vigor.
We set out on a remote paddle through a circular chain of twelve lakes connected by
eleven portages of various lengths and difficulties. The first few lakes and portages
varied from easy to medium difficult but the fourth portage to the fifth lake was
the first of increasingly challenging treks and by the sixth lake most people stopped
because the next few lakes could only be accessed by canoe, or trail. There were no
nearby roads.
We paddled through the first two lakes the first day with me at the front, father
steering, and Mom relaxing in the middle of our large expedition canoe. It was beautiful,
warm weather with not too many people around but there were a half dozen tents at
the designated camping spot we chose for our first night. We chatted with others and
shared a communal campfire. Mom and Dad shared our three person tent while I gladly
hit the dirt in the smaller two man affair.
The next day, Dad seemed a little stiff when he got up but quickly limbered up when
he noticed Mom eyeing him. The next lake was larger and it took all day for us to
paddle through it. On a break half way through, Dad switched places with me, saying
I should learn how to steer a canoe. I think he was tiring and I was only too happy
to help out by taking the stern where I could paddle harder without him seeing.
As the afternoon passed, I bored of the tremendous scenery and found my eyes wandering,
without intention, to my mother’s lithe figure stretched out before me, her back resting
against the large pack in front of me and her legs stretched out for her to rest her
ankles on each side of the canoe. I didn’t think anything of this as I paddled but
was suddenly conscious that I was looking at a very nice set of tanned legs, bare
up to a pair of baggy shorts that had slid very far up their owner’s thighs .
Of course, once I stumbled on this revelation, I couldn’t ignore it, inevitably returning
my gaze each time a guilty feeling forced my eyes away. Eventually, since no one could
see, I simply let my eyes slide up and down my mother’s long legs, watching the muscles
play under her skin as she periodically shifted herself to get more comfortable.
But I didn’t feel the first twitch in my groin until Mom started humming to herself.
Not that I get hard to music, but she started to tap her feet in the air in time to
whatever she was humming. I found this action strangely sexual and could hardly tear
my eyes away until Dad half turned to frown back as I veered way off course. This
interrupted Mom’s song, but fortunately she soon started up again. I began to swell
in my shorts as I watched her toes dipping, her instep curling in response, and her
calves tightening to accent her muscled lower leg. Guiltily, I let my eyes stray up
past her knees following her sinewy muscles along the inside of her thighs, all the
way to the top of her legs, finally coming to rest at the top of the magical ‘V’ where
the shorts stretched tight across a noticeable mound demarked by a slight vertical
crease.
I jerked my eyes away to watch the water fall off my paddle. But only three strokes
later they were pulled back, directly to where they left. There, beautifully outlined,
was my first home. Resting against the pack, Mom had slipped down, rubbing against
the hard foam cushion which she sat upon, dragging her shorts tightly against her
upraised legs and thrusting her pussy against her shorts to display it in mouth drying
detail for me to watch, unobserved and at my leisure. I stared until I was distracted
by her tapping feet which cau
sed small tremors to ripple up her legs. Following these
pulses back to the treasure above, I found myself wondering how it felt to her, thrust
up toward the heat of the sun beating down on it. I longed to be one of those rays
rushing up to greet this throbbing guest and my cock straightened in my pants as I
imagined it beckoning to me.
I don’t know how I managed to steer a line sufficiently straight that my father didn’t
feel the need to glance back but we arrived at our mid-afternoon destination for a
break without incident and pulled in to shore for a rest. It was difficult to keep
my eyes off Mom. I don’t think my Dad noticed anything strange, even about me staying
in the canoe for a few minutes before getting out, but Mom gave me an odd look once
or twice.
Dad and I flopped down on the white, sandy beach to rest but Mom strolled up and down,
each time pausing to stretch her legs in a wide stance before turning to walk the
other way. Dad closed his eyes, but my eyes stayed open, and on Mom. As we were getting
ready to get under way, Mom asked Dad if he thought we were far enough along for her
wear her bikini. My ears really perked up but a few seconds later a pair of canoes
rounded the corner and Mom shrugged, “I guess not,” she said, her voice sounding disappointed.
She shot me a sad smile. Maybe I was over sensitive, or guilty because of my after
lunch ogling, but it seemed to me that her look was directed at me. And, it struck
me, she must have been able to see those canoes standing down the beach where she’d
been, when she had posed her question to Dad. Come on, I thought, its your imagination.
She can’t know you were watching her, she couldn’t see you. And if she did, she’d
be mad, not teasing you with the thought of her in a bikini. Get a grip.
We got underway before the other group arrived, waving as we left and they slid in
to take our place on the beach. As we paddled away, Mom seemed to be having a hard
time getting comfortable but she finally settled in. I noticed that her shorts were
already stretched tight over my now favorite spot for resting my eyes. Mom began to
apply suntan lotion to her legs, bending her knees to lather her calves and slowly
working the lotion into her feet, especially her tender soles, and then running her
fingers between her toes in slow strokes. Returning to her knees, she began a casual
application to her thighs, doing the insides of each thigh last.
By the time she squirted the lotion along her inner thigh, letting it drip down toward
the juncture of her legs before capturing it with a languid movement of her hand,
I had a full-fledged boner. Mother or not, this was a tantalizing show by an attractive
woman. And it was as if I was looking in a bedroom window, unobserved as I was. When
I thought she was finished, Mom put the bottle down and used both hands to roll the
legs of her shorts up until they were tight around her upper thigh, right next to
her groin.
She squirted more lotion, letting it drip down into the hollow part at the top of
her leg beside her secret place. She let it drip all the way down before again scooping
it with a fluid motion of her fingers, followed by a slow swirling massage as she
worked it in where her skin was softest. She repeated this erotic procedure on her
other leg. My eyes, glued to her fingers, followed each tiny movement. I didn’t notice
until she spoke that she had tilted her head back to look at me.
“Sweetie, can you reach in the pack and get the sunscreen for my face?”
I tore my eyes away, my face flushing, then panicking as I realized my face was going
red. Flustered, I rummaged in the pack until I found the tube of cream she wanted.
Passing it to her, she said thanks, more with the movement of her lips than sound,
and tilted her head down once more. Dad turned around to ask what was going on but
Mom quieted him with an instruction to keep going on his own because she wanted me
to put some lotion on her neck. As Dad turned frontwards again, Mom leaned her head
way back to rest it on the top of the pack resting against my knees, reaching her
arm up to hand me the now uncapped tube.
I leaned forward to hang over her face, applying a tiny bit of lotion on my finger
and working it across her forehead, then added more to do her cheeks and her nose.
It was a this point that I noticed that several buttons were undone on Mom’s shirt,
exposing the inside swells of her breasts. Her nipples, poking out on each side, betrayed
her lack of a bra, which I had been sure she’d been wearing before we had stopped
for a break.
Finishing her face, I held the tube out to her but she simply opened her eyes and
said, “Do my neck for me, sweetheart.”
She kept her eyes on me as I loaded my fingers once more and reached past her pretty
face to dab it on the side of her neck, first one side then the other, then under
for the back of her neck.
“Don’t forget the front,” she spoke quietly, then closed her eyes.
I was free to look down her shirt, as long as I dared risk that she wouldn’t open
her eyes. I applied a larger amount to my fingers and gingerly applied it to her throat.
Squeezing more on my fingers, I applied a second coat, working it in more slowly.
“Mmmmmm,” Mom sighed in appreciation. I could feel the vibration of her throat against
my fingers, and it excited me.
“It was nice to hear you humming, Mom. What was that song?” I asked.
“I don’t remember. Would you like me to hum it again?”
“Yeah,” I answered.
“Ok,” she replied. “Do right down my neck, sweetie. I don’t want to get burned.”
As I digested this instruction, she resumed humming and I looked down the valley between
her breasts, her shirt open all the way to the point where the swells swept away from
her chest to jut against her shirt. Was she serious? Had I understood her? I looked
up at Dad, happily paddling away.
“Go on,” she opened her eyes, “or I’ll stop humming,” she teased, closing her eyes
again. She must have seen where I was looking. Prompted into action, I accidently
squeezed too much cream into my palm and quickly slapped it onto her chest before
it could slip off.
“Ohh,” she cried out, surprised, but she didn’t open her eyes. My hand moved, spreading
the lotion into her skin. I moved up and down from the valley between her breasts
to her throat. Mom broke her humming just long enough to direct me, “Make sure you
get all the skin that’s shows, Nick.”
Obediently, I let my fingers stray, pushing just far enough underneath her blouse
to lather her fair skin. Adding even more lotion, I let my hands work their way down
between her breasts to the point where her buttoned shirt impeded further progress
except for a furtive poke toward her navel. Her humming never stopped.
Working my hand back, I let it stray farther under her lapel onto the swell of her
breast, the white part that hadn’t yet been exposed to the sun. Mom’s nonchalant humming
continued as if her impudent son wasn’t stroking the side of her breast. Encouraged,
I moved to the other side and rubbed cream into the side of that breast as well. I
kept working the lotion into her until it was gone, then replenished my hand and rubbed
that in as well, attending only to the sides of her breasts.
< p>
When that was done, Mom thanked me, adding, “That should be enough for now.”
She was watching me. I don’t know how long her eyes had been open but she could have
been watching me for several minutes. She smiled and dipped her head. I picked up
my paddle and dipped it into the water again. Dad turned his head, “It’s about time
I had some help,” he growled.
I couldn’t tell if he was angry or just kidding, but I didn’t care. I had just had
the most erotic moment of my short life. With my mother!
I watched as she hummed, her toes dancing as before but with a difference. She stroked
her legs even though she wasn’t applying any lotion, her long fingers trailing up
and down the insides of her thighs. I watched, enthralled, mesmerized.
“Steer left,” Mom whispered. I jerked my eyes up and paddled hard to correct my course
just as Dad started to turn back but changed as he saw us return to the correct path.
When I glanced back down at Mom, she pulled her knees back and hooked her feet around
the gunwales. Her legs were now wide open to the sun. “That feels so good,” she said,
to no one in particular, “It’s beautiful out here.”
I relished the gorgeous view myself as she kept her knees pulled back almost all the
way to our next campsite, closing her legs only as we came into view of others already
there. She only needed to correct my course twice more but it wasn’t because I was
paying more attention to where I was going. I don’t think I even glanced away from
her open display, most likely innocent but appearing wanton nevertheless. I had to
wait even longer to get out of the canoe this time, so long that my father noticed
and told me to help set up camp. My mother didn’t look but I could see her smile.