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“Would you run me a bath?”
A moment after she said it, in a Pavlovian response, I felt the squeeze of lust in the pit of my stomach a moment before my cock thickened and grew. The erection was uncomfortable, compressed like it was, but I didn’t want to show her any sign of arousal.
To avoid looking at her, I kept my face tilted towards the book. “I’m reading a chapter for my coursework,” I said.
“Please,” she said through a sigh. I could hear the pout in her tone when my mother went on the add, “You always used to do it for me. Don’t you remember?”
Of course I remembered.
Tension was a tight band around my chest as I looked up into her face. “This is really important,” I said as clandestine urges slid and slithered at the back of my mind.
“It won’t take long,” my mother replied. “Come on. Come upstairs. Run me a bath – there’s a good boy.”
“I’m thirty, mum,” I said. “I’m not really a boy.”
She was near the door on her way upstairs, leading like it was a foregone conclusion I’d follow. Pausing, my mother looked back over one shoulder, the action stretching the sweater across her breasts to give me a three-quarter profile view. “You’ll always be my little boy,” she said.
My cock pulsed in reaction to my mother’s seductive tone. My eyes went to her considerable frontage and the promise of bounty beneath the sweater. Doubtful and edgy, I forced myself to look at her face. “I’m not sure if I should.”
Her expression darkened as my mother scowled. “Why ever not, Aidan? You always used to.”
I felt my face warming up. “I’m grown up now,” I said.
My mother shook her head while looking at me with what seemed to be pity in her expression. “Oh, Aidan,” she sighed. “It’s only a bath.”
Excitement bubbled up inside me, the sensation a strange mix of arousal and trepidation. “All right,” I said from a distant, dreamlike place.
With the odd feeling upon me, a curious sense of déjà vu tangled up in knots of sexual desire and guilt, I put the heavy book down and rose to my feet. I was moving without any conscious decision ruling my actions. I didn’t feel in control at all. It was all about history and conditioning. The instinctive urge to please my mother.
“Good boy,” my mother said, smiling at me.
I followed her up the stairs and across the landing. My mother led me along the familiar route along the hallway to her bedroom.
“You start it going,” she said. “I’ll just get out of these clothes.”
I went through to the en-suite, turmoil inside my head as conflicting thoughts and impressions struggled to voice their opinion.
“No need to close the door,” my mother called.
I let go of the handle, leaving the door ajar. “All right,” I said through a croak.
I set the taps so hot water cascaded into the deep, clawfoot tub. The bath was a freestanding affair, huge and ornate, the full-length mirror a window back into the bedroom through which I could see my mother moving around. She knew full-well I could see her reflection, which was why she told me not to close the door. Watching her undress, and her knowing I was watching, was part of the game.
“You remember I like it as hot as I can stand!”
I was doing my best to focus on the clear water slowly rising in the bath so I wouldn’t catch sight of my mother in the mirror. But, at the sound of her voice, my attention came up, insides squeezing with need, balls going tight when I saw she was standing with her fists on her hips, completely naked, the full-frontal aspect of my mother’s Amazon pose bringing a low groan out of my throat.
Swallowing down on the arousal swelling my throat, I nodded into the mirror. “Yes, mum,” I managed to say. “I … I remember.”
Nodding approval, my mother smiled. “Good,” she said, reaching to pick the towelling robe up off the bed. She wrapped her physical appeal in the gown, covering up but leaving the afterimage of her nudity imprinted upon my mind’s-eye.
My cock seeped goo into my underwear as water continued to tumble into the tub and, inside my head, I examined what I’d just seen: my mother, ripe and voluptuous, large breasts bare, pale saucers of their areolae tipped by pebble nipples, the shock coming at the realisation my mother’s vulva was bald. I groaned, carnal urges tugging my vitals, knowing what was going to happen and, while despising myself for the weakness, was thrilled at the prospect in a paradoxical clash between morality and desire for my own mother’s body.
“Fuck,” I said, the word coming through clenched teeth.
I had my eyes squeezed shut when I felt her hand on my shoulder. I was on my knees next to the tub, a hand in the water to check the temperature when she touched me and asked, “Is everything all right, Aidan?”
“Water’s fine,” I said without looking at her.
My mother let go of my shoulder. “I meant with you.”
I feigned casual but thought my mother wasn’t fooled as I said, “Me? Yeah, I’m good. Just thinking about the exam.”
My mother exploited the error as soon as the words came out of me. “Oh, darling,” she cooed, “I know it’s been a terrible time for you. So much pressure. It’s awful timing, that thing with Rebecca and you with your coursework. I know it can’t have been easy. But you’re back here with me now. I can take care of you.”
The conflict worked inside me. My guts felt loose while the need for sexual relief was a huge aching void. My hands started to tremble with pent up arousal, carnal desire goading me into giving it up and going along with my mother.
“Don’t you think I’m a little old to get taken care of by you, mum?” It was an attempt to deflect my mother, somewhat half-hearted because I was already well on the way to surrendering to the inevitable.
On cue, as I’d known she would, my mother swept my reluctance aside. “Don’t be silly,” she chided, “Your c***dren are always your c***dren no matter how old they are. It’s my job to look after you, Aidan. That’s what mothers do.” I felt her touch my shoulder again as she asked, “Is the water okay?”
“I think so…”
“All right, leave it running. I’ll get in.” My mother squeezed my shoulder. “Shift out of the way. Let me get past.”
I got up, knees popping as I stood.
“You should get undressed,” my mother said. “You’re not getting in wearing all those clothes.”
As she said it, I saw she was slipping the robe from her shoulders. I wasn’t looking directly at her but could see what she was doing from the corner of my eye.
With an arterial burst of lust exploding within, I looked at my mother, her physical appeal tugging at me. I gulped, trying one last, futile time. “Do you think I should get in there with you, mum? I mean, isn’t it a bit off? Me and you naked together? It’s crossing a line, don’t you think?”
My mother trilled a laugh. “Oh, Aidan,” she sighed, smirking at me. “It’s only skin. It isn’t anything to make a fuss about. Besides, who’s going to judge? Nobody knows. Nobody can see through the walls.”
“I don’t know,” I gurgled, but she was already tugging at my tee-shirt.
“No nonsense from you,” my mother insisted. “Shirt off. Socks, too. It’s only me, Aidan. Your mother. We’ve done this before. I want you stop being silly…”
It was ridiculous but I reacted to the tone of her voice in a regressive response to authority. It was a like I was acting up in a scene from two decades before, my mother chastising me for some misdemeanour, the bark in her voice bringing about an immediate action as I hauled my tee-shirt over my head.
“Those horrid jeans and underpants,” my mother continued after I’d pulled off my socks.
I hesitated, appalled at the tumescence seeping pre-cum into my pants. “Mum, I–”
She cut me off, sighing and shaking her head. “Take them off, Aidan,” she said.
I heard my mother chuckle as I turned my back and, with dread and excitement a quick vortex in my stomach, unfastened and unzipped and shoved my jeans to my knees.
“Oh,” my mother said on a murmur.
I looked up, focus going to the mirror where I saw my mother’s feral expression, her attention on my dick.
“Sorry,” I mumbled.
I watched my mother’s reflection as she blinked a couple of times, the lupine hunger shifting away from her face. “Darling, there’s no need to be sorry,” she said, eyes meeting mine through the mirror. My mother smiled and added, “It’s natural. We’re both bare and everything.”
When she finished with a half-shrug, my attention went to the shiver and sway of her breasts, their swing a magnet for my eyes which sent a ripple of need down through my root.
With that image in mind, I groaned out, “You’re beautiful, mum.”
My mother blinked again before her eyes slipped away from mine. “That’s very sweet of you,” she sighed.
Time condensed and then stretched while my mother and I stared at each other. It started with us gazing into the mirror; then I turned to confront her straight on. As I moved, hard-on swinging in front of me, my focus went to her vulva.
“I keep it this way now,” my mother murmured. “What do you think?”
With dark urges curdling inside me, I groaned out, “I love it, mum.”
We kept on staring, my mother’s throat working as she swallowed against whatever it was she was feeling inside.
“You should take those off,” my mother said, nodding to my jeans.
I responded with a quick nod of my own. “All right,” I said.
My mother moved while I took off my jeans, coming in close behind me to press her frontage against my flank. I looked down and saw her big boobs compressed between us, a gasp coming from me when her fingers curled around my cock.
“It’s been a long time since I took care of you,” my mother sighed as she caressed my length.
“Mum,” I croaked, “I don’t think you should…”
“Hush,” my mother breathed in reply, “just let me do this.”
I groaned, eyes closing while tickle worked through my length. It was a delicious sensation, the heat coming off my mother as the water splashed into the tub, her hand working my dick.
My mother chuckled, the sound low and dark and somehow clandestine. “Let me take the stress away,” she said on whisper. “I’ll take care of you, Aidan. My lovely big, grown-up boy…”
“The bath,” I gurgled.
“I’m watching it, Aidan,” my mother said. “Don’t worry, I won’t let it overflow.”
Her hand went faster, back-and-forth as she squeezed my root, her focus set on where her fist kept busy when I looked at her through the mirror. Her eyes came up to meet my stare. She smirked, teasing me with her expression. “I’m so glad you came back home,” my mother said. “You don’t need a woman like Rebecca,” she added. “Not when you’ve got your mummy to take care of you.”
I gasped, hips working as I fucked at her fist. “It shouldn’t feel so good,” I moaned.
“Don’t think about it,” my mother said. “This is just me and you. It doesn’t concern anyone else. What harm are we doing?”
The thrill of it rolled over me in a hot wave. It was dirty and taboo. It was wrong, socially reprehensible, an illicit act of depravity which excited me to extreme stiffness through my cock.
My mother gave the dark chuckle again. “My baby likes it,” she said on a murmur.
“It’s so fucking sweet,” I told her, moaning it out. The sensations were working through me by then. The pressure of my own mother’s fist jacking my size was a thrill. Her body was warm as she pressed up against me, the small gasps and moans coming from her arousing me more. “Mum,” I grunted, her hand unmoving as I fucked into her grip, “I know we shouldn’t be doing this, but I don’t want you to stop.”
“Oh, sweetie,” my mother sighed, hand stroking me again. “I’m not going to stop. It’s been so long since I’ve done this for you … God, where does the time go?”
“Years,” I said, looking her in the face.
“Too many,” my mother said, eyebrows arched. “But you’re here again now…”
I nodded, groaning in response to the simmering orgasm down at my core.
After the groan, my mother asked, “Are you going to come?”
“Let it go whenever you want, my darling big boy,” my mother said, hand working faster against me.
I heard the squeak of excitement in my mother’s voice, her tone prompting me to look at her through the mirror where I saw the feral hunger in her expression.
My mother moaned and nodded when I asked, “Do you get hot from doing this?”
She noticed me watching güvenilir canlı bahis siteleri her reflection, her eyes coming up to confront mine through the glass. “Of course,” she said, breathing the words. “I get very excited.”
The statement came out of me on a rush of words I hadn’t thought about saying. Unbidden, with the need on me, I gulped and then groaned, “I want to kiss you.”
My mother didn’t reply. She just stared at me, gazes locked, her hand quick down on my cock.
“God,” I gasped as the surge boiled. “Fuck, mum, I’m gonna–”
I shut up when the first burst of ejaculate flicked from my cock. At the same moment, still busy wanking at me, my mother yelped out a triumphant, “Yes! That’s it, Aidan. Show mummy how good it feels.”
Spunk shot out of me in bursts of thick goo, the stuff raining down onto the floor. I sobbed and moaned, the pleasure intense, my mother milking my dick, jizm spattered and despoiled, gobbets of cum glistening on her forearm and one of her breasts.
“Mum, shit, that’s so fucking good,” I grunted as the outrush tapered and died.
“It looked like it did,” my mother replied as she released my erection. “God, you made a mess,” she added, stepping back a pace. My mother surveyed the carnage, examining her hand and arm before she tutted and smeared spunk over her breasts. “I’m plastered in it,” she said as she eyed her frontage.
“I’m sorry,” I said, sucking in air.
My mother looked at me, chuckling as she said, “Don’t be sorry, my darling. It’s what I expected from you. I remember how you used to be.”
“I didn’t think this would happen again,” I said.
My mother went to the bath. She turned the taps to cut off the flow, rinsing her arm in the process. Then she picked up her robe to dry off her hands. “Oh, I knew it would,” my mother informed me as she dropped the robe. “Or at least I was always going to try.”
With the heat off me I was capable of coherent thought, guilt sliding in. “You know this is wrong,” I said, a statement not a question.
My mother gave a half-shrug. She grimaced and said, “Only if we let it be wrong,” she said, confronting me with her stare. “I told you, it’ nobody’s concern. Nobody’s business. You never said anything to Rebecca, did you?” My mother questioned me with her eyes. “You kept it secret, didn’t you, Aidan?”
I was quick to nod. “Of course,” I said.
“So it’s just between us?”
I nodded again.
“Our secret,” my mother whispered.
“I suppose,” I said as my mother moved in close.
My mother kept her focus upon me for several long moments, then glanced towards her bedroom. “You wanted to kiss me,” she said, voice low, eyes downcast.
“Yeah,” I said, embarrassed at the reminder.
My mother’s eyes came up to meet mine. “We never did that before,” she said.
“It was just something I said.” I was trying to downplay the situation, appalled I’d blurted those words.
“It … it might be nice,” my mother whispered. She pressed in tight, big boobs up against me while my hands went to her waist.
It was new to me, the touching. I can’t count the number of times my mother wanked to me completion back in the day but, weirdly it occurred to me all of a sudden, I’d never laid a hand on her in any intimate way.
With my fingers against her waist, my mother stared at me, sighing while her arms encircled my neck. Then she breathed, “Do you still want to kiss me?”
My cock, which had barely deflated, twitched and went hard. “I … I think so,” I stammered.
After holding my stare for several intense seconds, my mother broke away. “Come to the bedroom,” she said when she paused at the door.
Confused, I blurted, “But your bath?”
My mother shrugged and pulled a face. “I can always top it off with hot water,” she said. “come on,” she added, “come through.”
I hesitated when my mother moved into the bedroom, my mind full of the possibilities as I dared not hope.
While I dithered, my called out, “Aidan, what are you doing? I want you in here.”
Her voice galvanised me to action and I went to the bedroom where I found my mother sitting on the edge of her wide bed. When I walked in, she indicated I should get closer with a sweep of one arm.
“Stand in front of me,” my mother instructed. “Get closer,” she said.
When she reached for my hard-on and started to stroke it, I gurgled a surprised, “Mum, what are you doing?”
“It’s so different now,” my mother said, strolling my length. She said it like she was dreaming. Her eyes were unfocussed, her gaze set on infinity while I gawked at her hand on my cock. “We could be so much more than mother and son,” my mother continued in the same vague tone. “If we were out,” she added, “in a different city or another country … Well, we could pass for a couple.”
I had a vague, amorphous idea about what she meant. It was strange and confusing yet very arousing on an intuitive level. I couldn’t quite believe she could mean what I thought she did, that we could pass for lovers, that we could go public with displays of affection. There were twenty years between us, but in this day-and-age, that didn’t count for much.
“I’m not seeing anyone at the moment,” my mother was saying. “You’re split from Rebecca….” My mother stopped talking, the distance remaining behind her eyes for a moment or two. Then, following a sigh, her hand gently caressing my cock, my mother looked up to my face. “Kiss me,” she breathed.
Desire and yearning yawned deep in my stomach when I heard her say it and, like an idiot, I gawked and replied with an awed, “Kiss you?”
My mother nodded. “Yes, kiss me. A proper kiss. Like you’d kiss a girlfriend, Aidan,” she said.
“But you’re my mum.”
Smirking, my mother glanced at my dick. “We’re naked together … I’m wanking you, Aidan. I’ve only just washed your cum off me…” Pausing, my mother rolled her eyes while slowly shaking her head. Then she finished with, “It’s a little late to be getting odd about me being your mother – don’t you think?”
I stared at her feminine curves before I looked into the prettiness of her face. When I saw she was staring at me, an expectant, hopeful light in her eyes, I managed to gurgle, “Kiss you?”
“Yes,” my mother said, sighing it out. She held my stare with her own. “Like we were together. Like you were my husband.”
Desire rushed through me as, excited by her words and the illicit potential, I leaned in low. As I curled in, my mother shifted her rump, back straightening while she tilted her face and offered her mouth.
Then we were kissing, the first tentative contact bringing my hands to her breasts, our tongues touching as the passion ignited between us.
“I love these big tits,” I gasped into her mouth. I was reckless with arousal, my need desperate, my mother’s weighty breasts in my palms.
“God, Aidan,” my mother groaned in response. “Touch me. Feel my breasts. Kiss me, my darling.”
“I want to fuck you,” I groaned, overwhelmed with lust.
On a moan, my mother kissed with more heat, her fist jacking my cock while her tit-flesh spilled over the cups of my palms, hands full of her breasts.
I returned the kiss with fervour, grunting into my mother’s open mouth as our tongues slithered and rolled until we parted with a gasp from both of us.
While we both gulped in air, my mother asked, “Do you mean that?”
I looked down into her face, love squeezing my chest.
My mother was staring at me, her hand no longer busy on my cock as she went to say, “About fucking?”
In that moment I wanted it all. I wanted to kiss her mouth and push her back onto the bed where I could spread her thighs and slide my cock into her body.
“Mum…” I croaked, awed by the sensations roiling inside me.
“If you mean it…” my mother said on whisper.
As moment or two later, after we stared at one another, her with the question in her expression, me with lust and carnal desire surging within, my mother then shocked me by ducking in to suck my swollen cock-head between her lips.
Stunned, I boggled, not believing what my eyes were seeing while my mother licked my shaft from balls to tip, her hand working me down at the root.
“Let me suck it,” my mother said, devilment in her eyes as she looked up at me. “It’s been ages since I’ve had a man, Aidan,” she added after swirling her tongue over the dome. “I’m just so fucking randy…” Then she went back to glomming and slurping, licking my cock, moans and gasps coming from her mouth, her lips stretched around my girth.
“Mum, shit, you’re really doing it,” I said after a minute of gawking.
My mother paused and, with her fist cranking at me, grinned and said, “I am, aren’t I? And are you going to do the same for me?”
Stupid with the shock, I stared at my mother. “The same?”
She nodded, eagerness in her expression. “Yes, the same. I’ve sucked your cock, isn’t it fair that you give me a little lick?”
It took a few seconds for the suggestion to percolate the layers of surprise and disbelief before I croaked out, “Lick you?”
“Mmm, yes, lick me,” my mother said. “You know what I mean. I want you to get down there and lick my quim.”
I groaned when lust erupted again.
“My pussy,” my mother went on, sighing it out. Then she made me groan again by finishing with the lewdest, most depraved words I’d ever heard her utter. “My cunt, Aidan,” she said. “I want you to lick my cunt.”
Her use of the obscenity worked on me, the word like a physical blow. Desire rose, hot and urgent as I put my hands on my mother’s shoulders and pushed her onto her back.
“Oh God,” my mother said, breathless and urgent. She scooted back over the bed, twisting to grab for a pillow. “Oh, dear lord, I don’t believe it,” my mother was gasping when she settled against the pillow, torso angled so she could see me between her thighs. “Aidan, oh God, lick me, darling. Taste me. I’m so excited.”
Wild with desire for my mother, I spread her legs to reveal the ugly-beauty of her ungainly folds, the labia peeling apart with wet, sticky reluctance when my mother’s legs went wide. I growled as I splayed my mother’s meaty flaps with the tips of my fingers, spare hand cranking my cock.
“Ah fuck,” I said on a half-sob when I saw my mother’s glistening core. It was scarlet down there, shining with my mother’s own lust, her sex exposed, the peephole there above the opening of her cunt. “This can’t be true,” I said, looking at her face.
My mother gazed at me, eyes wide, her expression all about disbelief at what we were doing. “I know,” she said, confirming the impression I had about what she was thinking. “It’s like a dream, isn’t it, Aidan?”
“You want this?”
She nodded and reached for me, fingers clutching the air as she sobbed out her need. “Please,” my mother said, urgent. “Just do it. Just lick me.”
I teased both of us by taking a moment to look at her body. My eyes went from my mother’s anxious face down to her breasts, the orbs rolling and swaying as my mother grabbed at me again. Dodging her grasping fingers, I looked down past her soft tummy, down to the intimate, illicit part of her I, as her son, had no right to be seeing.
“Fuck, that’s so dirty,” I said, moaning it out.
“Just fucking lick it,” my mother snarled, fingers moving over her clit. “I’m choking for you to do it,” she finished.
She was slick on my tongue when I lapped at my mother’s sex. The texture was silk, her gasp sending another thrill through me as I went at her, licking the bean before I worked my tongue into the opening.
“Oh fuck,” my mother moaned, writhing, her essence on my tongue.
“You like it?”
My mother squirmed and sobbed out she loved it. “Keep on at my clit, Aidan,” she groaned. “I need to come, darling. I’ve been so worked up all day. I’ve been thinking about what we used to do. I’ve been thinking about all those times I wanked you off.”
“I remember,” I said as I fingered her pussy. I dabbed a forefinger at her opening, slipping the digit inside to make her suck in air. “It was fucking magic when you did that for me.”
“We can do it again,” my mother squeaked, fingers clawing the bed.
I was licking her clit again, sucking the bean between my lips, even grazing it gently with my teeth so my mother wriggled and groaned.
“We can do this too, Aidan,” my mother continued around gasps of what I took to be tipobet pleasure. “Now you’ve done it once, you might as well lick me again. We can make each other feel good, my darling. We can be together.”
Hot with desire, I moved up over her frontage, pausing with my face close to hers. “Fucking kiss me,” I said, breathing it out.
My mother went wall-eyed for a moment, mewling while she stirred her vulva with her fingers. Then she pulled me in for a long, deep, passionate kiss, her tongue swirling and writhing with mine, my hands moving over her body.
“Are you going to fuck me?” I looked at her face and saw the anticipation in her eyes after she said it. “You can,” my mother added, groaning as I worked two fingers inside her. “I want to,” she finished, grasping my wrist.
Awed by the imagery she put into my head, I gasped out, “Do you mean it, mum?”
“God, fuck, of course I mean it,” my mother spat, face tight. “We’ve done just about everything else. What’s left but to do it. I mean,” my mother went on, “it’s bound to happen, isn’t it, Aidan? Even if we say we can’t and don’t do it now, later on – tonight, tomorrow…? Well, there’s no point k**ding ourselves. We’re going to do it sooner or later. Why not just give into it now?”
We kissed again when my mother pulled me close. She wriggled around, a hand going between us so my mother could work her fingers over my shaft.
When the kiss broke, my mother asked, “So? What do you think? Are we going to fuck?”
I knelt upright, a hand working my cock while I looked down at my mother. She was rubbing her sex, diddling her clit while also sliding the middle- and third-finger of one hand into her pussy, sobs wracking her body. Her boobs trembled when my mother worked at her sex. She pushed the digits into her opening, burying them in up to the knuckle, her face twisted up with agonised ecstasy, her need obvious by the way she fucked up onto her fingers.
“Don’t just look at me, Aidan,” my mother growled. “Put it in. There, look,” she said, thighs wide as she held herself open. “That’s where I want you, my darling. You’re my big strong boy. You’re a man now, Aidan. And I need a man. I need it so much. Please, just put it in.”
It was an incredible time, those seconds before I felt my own mother’s molten embrace work at my girth. I looked at her while she stared at me, the need for it in her face and the desperate way she fingered her pussy and mauled at her breasts.
“You really want to?”
“God, yes,” my mother replied. “I don’t care what anyone else would say. I don’t give a toss for what’s right and wrong. All I know is I’m gagging to feel you, Aidan. In here, right inside me where you came from.”
That was when it hit me for real. Up until then, as exciting and incredible as it was with my mother, her mentioning the fact that she’d birthed me, that she was my mother … that was when the enormity of what we were on the cusp of doing kicked me in the stomach.
“You’re my mum,” I moaned, tugging my cock.
“I am,” my mother replied, “and stop wanking. Don’t waste it. You’ve already come, don’t spoil it by coming again.”
Without truly realising I was doing it, I shuffled in closer on my knees, aiming my dick towards my mother’s opening as I loomed in over her body, weight on one straight arm. Time slowed again; the sensations surreal. Part of me knew what I was doing. It was cold and calculated, my actions deliberate as I committed each scene to memory. I saw my mother’s face, eyes wide, expression filled with expectation and hope. Her body, full and rounded, the sweep and curve a thrill to behold, her big breasts a magnet for my eyes before I ducked in to suck at her nipples while, in another part of my head, I was acting on instinct, my face coming up so I could stare into her eyes, her soul laid bare, another kiss taking us away.
“God, Aidan, just fuck me,” my mother implored when the kiss broke.
After that it was about me moving around on my knees and my hands, my mother’s fingers gripping my cock as she fed me into her body.
“Oh, baby, keep steady,” my mother gasped.
“Mum,” I croaked, amazed to feel her insides gripping my cock in her molten embrace.
“I know,” my mother said, eyes holding my gaze. “It’s unreal, like it’s not really true…”
“I love it,” I said.
My mother’s calves gripped my flanks. She held me still, using her legs and her stare to get my attention. “I love you,” she sighed,” then added, “Don’t move. Keep still. Let me feel you inside me.”
“It feels incredible, mum. I can’t tell you…”
When I stopped talking my mother sandwiched my face with her palms. “We’ve gone and done it, Aidan,” she breathed, wonder in her expression. “I mean, we’re here, in my bed. It’s you, really you. My beautiful son.”
I felt her body clench around my girth, the sensation prompting a groan. When I felt it I ducked in to kiss her mouth, hot with desire. Then, when the kiss broke and my mother let loose with an ebullient laugh, her pussy squeezing my cock with such pressure it felt like the contraction was going to push me out of her body. In response, I eased in deeper, a gasp coming from my mother.
Then she started to move, slowly at first, her sex slick and hot as she moved over my length. “Slow,” murmured my mother. “Easy. Let’s take our time. This is our first time together this way. We’ll never get another first time. I want to remember this, Aidan. This is a magical moment for me.”
“Me too,” I said as I went up on straight arms.
As I hovered above my mother, we both looked down to where her pussy accepted my cock.
“God,” my mother said on a sigh, “I can see it going in. I can see you, Aidan. That lovely thick cock.”
For me the pleasure was in seeing her face lit up with wonder and love, her breasts shivering as she moved with a gentle action, her pussy caressing my cock through its length, her loose folds clinging to my shaft. With awe in my tone, I looked at my mother and said, “It’s tight. Hot and wet and tight…”
As we moved together in a slow, easy rhythm, my mother grinned, an impish shine behind her eyes. Then she said, “I know it looks big. All three of my husbands, including your father, made comments about the way I’m built. Those lips are quite big, but I’ve got this wonderful toy which gives my muscles a workout.” My mother chuckled, hips working faster. “It’s an amazing little thing. I can keep it inside me and use a remote control to adjust the settings. It’s kept me from going insane. It’s been a while since I’ve been intimate with a man, Aidan. Several months,” she said, face twisting with what I took to be pleasure.
My mother gasped and hooked her fingers over my shoulders. She looked down to our conjunction, a low moan issuing forth before she fixed her attention to my face. “God, this is starting to work on me, Aidan. I’m sorry but I need to do it a little bit faster.”
“That’s all right,” I said after curling in to suck at her nipples. “Do it however you want. I’m still trying to believe it’s really happening, mum.”
“You won’t come soon will you?” Her actions were getting more urgent. By then my mother was shunting her hips back-and-forth, fingers tight on my shoulders as she folded her legs at the knees and spread herself wider.
“Don’t worry,” I said while watching her tits roll and tremble, “I’m okay. This is turning me on so much I’ll stay hard for a week.”
“Oh fuck,” my mother sighed, eyes on my face. “Don’t say things like that. It’ll only make me worse.”
On a burst of desire, I worked in deeper, probing at my mother, her lust wet down at the root of my cock as she gasped wide-eyed, her hands dropping to the bed where her fingers clawed at the cover.
“That’s it, Aidan,” my mother said with a grunt. She went harder at me, lifting her buttocks off the bed to meet me on my way down. “Fuck me,” she added, sobbing the words. “Use it. Fuck me, my lovely big boy.”
Filial love I felt for my mother shifted into something more. Emotion rose in my chest, swelling into my throat as I gazed at my mother, her face showing what she was feeling, the expression new to me. Of course, I’d never seen my mother’s face twisted with agonised delight as she took pleasure from the physical act of love. But there she was, sobbing and moaning and fucking onto my dick. “Mum, I love you,” I groaned.
“Aidan,” she gasped, a hand down at her sex. “I know, darling, I know…”
“No, I mean I love you,” I said, urgent as we rutted together.
“Not now,” my mother gasped, going wall-eyed. “Not love, just sex. I need it, Aidan. I just want us to fuck.”
I took it as a challenge. I wanted to fuck into my mother, to get the delight from feeling her body squeezing my dick, but I also wanted to make her love me as she must have loved her husbands. It wasn’t enough that I had maternal love from her, I needed my mother to want me, to love me as a man. With all that in my head, I looked at my mother, her need there in her face as she sucked her lower lip between her teeth and she crinkled her nose at me.
I saw the desire in her eyes, that look goading me into working hard at her sex. “I’m gonna smash it,” I growled as the b**st took control.
“Oh fuck,” my mother replied. “Say it again. Be strong for me, Aidan. Use me. Fuck me. Don’t hold back.”
“I’m gonna smash your cunt,” I told my mother, my eyes on her face. “I’m gonna tear it apart. You’re my mother and I love you, but I’m going to ruin you for anyone else.”
It worked for us both. I felt the rush of bestial need and went at my mother like I wanted to nail her to the bed with my dick. For her part, my mother went mental. She gasped and writhed and clawed at me, her own language a torrent of potty-mouthed abuse which served to stoke the fires of my lust so that we were both in a frenzy of fucking, both wild with our own joy.
Through the mists I heard my mother gasp out, “Fuck, Aidan, I’m going to come…”
“Yeah,” I snarled, going in to kiss her mouth before I sucked at her breasts.
“Keep fucking,” she sobbed as I moved from one nipple to the other. My mother was working her fingers over her clit, gasping in her urgency a she strove for the peak. “God, don’t stop. Just keep on doing it, Aidan!”
My mother’s big tits were rolling around, our bodies colliding with thick, meaty slaps while her pussy squelched and farted around my girth. I looked at her face and saw a grimace of need. My mother’s teeth were bared, the expression all about her desperation to find release. It was a compelling sight, awesome to behold in its fury. The sounds coming out of her matched the look on her face. My mother grunted, snorted, and moaned, obscenities peppering the bestial sounds until, with her eyes going wide and her mouth a big O, my mother gurgled she was there.
“Fuck,” I heard her snarl.
And then the judders began.
In the aftermath of her climax, my mother sucked in air, eyes huge while she stared at me. As she’d shuddered and sobbed out her joy, I’d slid from her body, cock slick with my mother, her fingers working her bean. I knelt upright and stroked my cock, awed by the force of my mother’s orgasm. Then, slowly, the v******e abated. My mother groaned, body relaxing as she slumped on the bed, limbs loose like a puppet with cut strings.
“Oh my God,” my mother eventually sighed. “I bloody needed that.” She hefted herself upright, sitting up, boobs swaying. “You have no idea…”
The heat was still on me. I was working my fist over my length, desire for that comfortable body boiling inside me. “I want to keep going,” I told her. “I don’t want to stop.”
My mother looked into my face. She smirked while rolling her eyes. “Just let me catch my breath,” she said through a smile. “I’m not finished yet, either.”
On an ebullient rush, I said, “You’re fantastic.”
My mother laughed. “You’re not so shabby yourself. I’m impressed. You’re well built like your father, but you have a much better technique.”
It pissed me off to hear her talk about my dad. “I don’t want to hear about him,” I said. “I don’t want you to tell me anything about anyone else.”
“I’ve been married three times,” my mother replied. “I’ve had three c***dren, Aidan. One of whom is you. I’ve got a past. God, darling, at my age…”
When my mother perabet paused, I cut in. I had a strange feeling on me. I was horny for her and I wanted her body, but I was also jealous of the men she’d known. “Mum, please, don’t talk about them,” I said. “Not my dad, neither of your other two husbands. I don’t want to hear. Not about them or anyone else.”
After I said it, my mother gazed at me, a question in her face. “All right,” she murmured after quite some time. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
With the ire hot inside me, I went in to kiss my mother. It was a strong kiss, my hands on her waist so I could dominate her. The kiss was me staking a claim. She was my mother but, although I didn’t fully understand at the time, she was also my woman. I wanted us to be together. A proper couple. I was her son, but I also wanted to be her lover. A confidante. A partner. An equal.
“Wow, where di that come from,” my mother gasped when I broke away from the kiss.
Ignoring the question, I worked at my length. “I want to fuck you,” I growled.
My mother’s eyes flashed when I said it. She grinned, nodded, and said, “This isn’t how I know you, Aidan. You’re not this … forceful.”
“Come on,” I groaned, desperate to get back inside her. “Let’s do it some more.”
My mother moved onto her knees. “Lie down,” she said, pointing to the bed. “I’m going on top.”
Despite my dominant mood, I lay down so my mother could settle over my body. Once I was prostrate, she clambered over me, a hand going to my cock as she took charge and held me upright. Next, she got into position, one knee on the bed, the other leg half raised, her foot on the cover while she offered the bulb to her sex. A moment later, and with a low moan from her, my mother eased her pussy over my cock. As she moaned, she sank down over my size, taking all of me down to my balls in one slick glide.
“Oh fuck,” muttered my mother, both knees supporting her by then. “That’s deep.”
My hands went to her waist and then up to her breasts. I mauled her tits, growling with lust.
“Let mummy do it,” my mother murmured when she started to move. “I’ll take care of it, sweetie.”
Her previous men were still in my mind as I squeezed at her breasts. “Nobody else, mum,” I said on a groan. “Don’t talk about them. This is for us.”
My mother held me inside her body, squeezing my shaft with her sex, a soft smile curving her lips. She looked at me with love in her eyes. “Oh, darling,” she breathed, “that’s so lovely. Just you and me, Aidan. Like I said before, nobody knows about this. It’s our secret. Nobody can ever take this back.”
Emotion exploded inside me. “I love you,” I blurted.
“Darling, I know,” my mother replied as her hips started to move. “And I love you. You’re so precious to me.”
My mother curled in so we could kiss, her action getting quicker as the sensations tickled my cock.
For the next few minutes we alternated between bestial fucking and making slow, tender love. Sometimes my mother rode my dick, gasping and sobbing as she mauled her own breasts and rubbed at her clit. Then, at some mutually tacit signal we’d turn down the heat, staring at each other as love passed between us. The kissing punctuated our shifts in mood, both of us gasping and moaning and whispering tender endearments until, perhaps sensing I was close, my mother went frantic, rising my cock until I cried out I was close to giving her all I had left.
“Just do it, Aidan,” my mother said as she stared at my face. She rode my length, buttocks slap-sapping my thighs until I bellowed in joy and emptied myself into her body.
“You’re coming inside me,” my mother moaned, eyes glazing over. “My God, my own son’s semen…”
Then my mother caught up with me, her orgasm breaking as we clasped and grabbed each other, both vocal in our mutual pleasure.
Afterwards, purged as I was of desire, I was suddenly awkward. Appalled at what we’d done, I stared at my mother, frightened at the scale of our sin.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” my mother said, somehow intuiting my mood. “It was lovely, Aidan,” she sighed, stroking my hair.
We were both on our sides, turned inwards, bookends to my guilt and fear. “But,” I said, eyes on her face, “we shouldn’t have…”
“But we did. And we can’t alter that, Aidan.” My mother shifted closer to me, her forehead touching mine as she held my stare with her gaze. “I’m not sorry we did it,” my mother continued with a whisper. “I wanted us to do it. I needed that physicality, Aidan. I know I’m your mother, but that only made it so much sweeter. When you were inside me … When you came…”
For the next few minutes my mother soothed my fears. She hugged me in close, both of us under the covers, the clandestine sense of what we’d done together enhanced inside our secret cocoon. She kissed me, soft and gentle in-between telling me about how much she loved me and how she was so glad we’d moved on from her wanking me off.
Eventually, after my mother coaxed a smile from me, she threw back the cover. “Let’s have a bath together,” she said. “Come on, Aidan,” she added, holding out on hand. She waggled her fingers, rings glinting. “I’ll top it off with hot water. It’s probably cooled a bit by now.”
With the residual anxiety on me, I asked, “What are we going to do?”
My mother sighed. “Bathe and talk,” she said with another wiggle of her fingers. “We can decide what’s what. I can make us some dinner. Something light. I could do with some wine. How does that sound, darling? We can talk about everything. Get it all sorted. I don’t want there to be any distractions for you before your exam.”
So it went. I got out of bed and went to the en-suite where we fixed up the bath so the water was warm. We bathed, me sitting against the tub while my mother leaned her back against me. We talked until our skin crinkled and the water had cooled again. After that, both in towelling robes, we had dinner, talking all the time, going over what we’d done and what we would do in future.
That night, after my mother – at her insistence – tidied the kitchen and I studied the books, we went up to her room, sharing my mother’s bed, loving and fucking as we woke and found the need on us.
Six months later.
“There’s a letter,” she said.
I glanced at my mother because a letter wasn’t news. “Oh,” I said.
“On the table.” My mother folded her arms beneath her bosom, my eyes going to the precipitous cleavage. I had a moment to wonder why she was wearing the blouse because it was a touch too showy at the scooped neck for everyday wear. “Looks official,” she added.
We were in the kitchen. It was 6 p.m. and I’d just arrived home from work. My mother was near the sink, a glass of white wine in her hand.
I put my phone, car keys, and laptop bag down on the counter. “It’s my divorce,” I suggested.
My mother gave a half-shrug. “That crossed my mind.”
I sighed and went to the table. “Decree nisi,” I said after tearing the envelope and surveying the contents.
My mother sipped wine, examining me over the rim of the glass. Then, with slow deliberate movements, she put the glass down and scooped her large breasts out of the blouse and cups of her bra. “I thought,” she said, turning around, “that you might want something to take your mind off Rebecca and the divorce.” As she said it, my mother shimmied and hauled her skirt up past her hips. “No knickers,” she told me. “And I’m wet. I’ve been fingering myself.” She then leaned her elbows on the counter and thrust out her rear, angling her hips to offer herself. “There it is,” my mother said on a purr. “Fuck me. Take your mind off everything.”
My cock was stiff as I unzipped and hauled it out.
“Hard and fast,” my mother said, looking back over one shoulder. “Hold my hips. Give it to me.”
With my mother on offer I cast the letter aside. It represented a phase of my life that was over. Rebecca was a cheat and had proved herself to be a nasty piece of work. I was glad to be rid of her, especially since I now had a new job, a place to live, and a woman to love, a woman who took great care of me and was always attentive to my needs.
“God, yes, I love it when that big thing’s inside me,” my mother groaned as I fed her my length. “Just use it,” she added. “All your frustrations … Take them out on me. I’m here for you, darling.”
“Mum, I love you,” I said, leaning in to cup her breasts in my palms.
My mother swivelled at the waist, her tits in my hands while she reached back with one hand, fingers curling around the nape of my neck. Then, staring a challenge into my face, she murmured “Show me.”
We rutted as we kissed, my hands on my mother’s hips, her breath gasping into my open mouth as our tongues slithered and slid. I grunted, thrusting into her body, the heat and slippery texture now so familiar to me.
It was short yet very intense. Urgent and desperate as my mother squeezed her own breasts and fingered her bean. She moaned and babbled filthy comments, a trait of hers which came out when she was in a particular mood, her face a mask of twisted desire, her words coming out half-choked with her need.
For me it was her pussy squeezing my dick, her big breasts in my hands while I looked at the feminine shape of my mother, her buttocks slapping against me as she went for carnal release. The sounds she made and the glazed-eyed look she cast back at me over her shoulder while she groaned at me to fuck her set me alight. It was my mother. She was beautiful. We were fucking and loving and I’d never been happier. It was so much better than her just wanking me off. This was adult. This was grown-up stuff.
“Aidan, my, God, I’m going to come,” my mother wailed, sobbing into the counter.
“Mum,” I grunted, “me too.”
“Inside me,” she groaned, fingers down between her legs. “Give me your love.”
My mother squealed and writhed when the hot stuff flooded her body, the joy in my moans of delight, pleasure intense as I filled my mother with cum.
When it was over and my cock slid from her sex, spunk spattered onto the floor. My mother chuckled and, after glancing down at the mess, looked at me, embarrassment in her expression. “God, I’m full of the stuff,” she said, rolling her eyes. “You always do so much. I’ve never known a man who makes so much cum.”
“It ‘cause you’re so sexy,” I said, pulling her for a kiss. “I mean, the way you pulled your boobs out just then … And no knickers under the skirt. Mum, shit,” I sighed, “that was a great welcome home.”
My arm was around her waist, her boobs still bare, skirt around her hips, and dollops of jizm on the kitchen floor. My mother grinned, looking at me. “Rebecca never did that for you?”
“Forget Rebecca,” I said with a glance at the letter. “A few more weeks and the divorce will be final.”
“Decree absolute,” my mother said with a nod. “We should go somewhere, Aidan. Together. Me and you. A celebration of a new life for you.”
Shy as I always was whenever my mother spoke about us as a real couple, I looked at the floor. “Where?”
My mother pulled free and, leaving her boobs cantilevered over her bra, skirt high to exhibit her vulva, she went to her wine. She sipped and then looked at me. “Anywhere,” she said. “Somewhere hot. I could rent a villa. We could get one with a pool and make love outside.”
“I’d need to ask work,” I said. “I don’t know if they’ll give me time off yet. I’ve only been there a couple of months.” I’d passed my exam and had a new job. Life was looking up, even if I did still live with my mother. But what nobody knew was that as well as sharing the house, we also shared a bed.
“Ask. If you don’t, you won’t get. I’ll start looking.”
“I don’t have much money saved.”
My mother laughed. “God, Aidan,” she trilled, “you know I’m wealthy. Don’t you think about money, darling. Leave the vulgar side of it to me. All I want is for us to be together.”
After another glance at the letter, my eyes went to my mother’s breasts. “You, naked by the pool,” I breathed.
My mother giggled when I grabbed at her. She kissed me and, when I boosted her rump up onto the counter, asked, “Again?”
“Yeah,” I said, sliding my cock into the goo.
Another quick scene. This one has been submitted several times and been rejected, so I altered the title. Anyway, here it is. I hope you enjoyed it regardless of any errors and/or typos in the text. It’s unedited because, as usual, I’m running a few projects simultaneously.
Thanks for reading. Feedback is appreciated.
Ricky – Cambs, England – 19th August 2019.
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