The Cost of Motherly Love – Part 1

Introduction:
After years of building tension and obsession, the relationship between Mother and Son crosses the boundary of moral and social acceptance. But at what cost?

The sun was beating down from a cloudless blue sky on a glorious summer day in complete contrast to my gloomy mood. I was fifteen years old and had been dragged along to visit some boring stately home with my parents with their boring friends Claude and Vicky and their younger kids.

I sat on the grass while the adults busied themselves laying out the food, feeling annoyed that I had to sit on the floor with the kids while the adults got to sit on the purposely placed logs in the picnic area.

I looked up from the brochure I was pretending to read as something in my peripheral vision caught my attention; the pale skin of slightly open thighs. I realised that from my lowly position, I was able to see up under the skirt and allowed my gaze to wonder higher until it reached the triangle that formed the apex of those wonderful thighs.

I was transfixed by what I saw. The thin material of lacy white panties, a thong, dissected a pair of dark pussy lips. Fine light brown hair framed the lips in wispy curls and the lips themselves seemed to glisten slightly with moisture.

The legs snapped shut.

“Have a sandwich, Danny.”

I looked up to the sight of my Mother’s large breasts trying to spill out over the top of the white Summer dress she wore, as she leaned forward offering me the plate.

I was flustered and sure I had turned a shade of crimson. I felt excitement as I had just seen my first real pussy in the flesh, and shame as it had belonged to my Mother. I placed my hands in my lap to hide my erection.

As we wandered around the stately home and gardens, I couldn’t stop thinking about what I had seen. Couldn’t help but see my Mother differently now; imagined the panties rubbing between those pussy lips under the white dress as she glided along on white heels. I began to notice the shape of her large breasts as the dress tried to contain them, wondering what they looked like in the flesh. Despite fighting to rid my head of these inappropriate thoughts, they kept creeping back in.

Being the late 1980s and it being the long summer school holiday, and the fact we lived way out in a small village, my inspiration for masturbation was limited to the lingerie section of my Mothers catalogues or, if really lucky, a discarded porno magazine found by the side of the road. That night I masturbated while recalling the vision from earlier despite knowing it was wrong to think of my Mother that way. That fact only served to heighten my arousal to a new level and resulted in a much stickier end than usual, followed by feelings of shame and regret.

Two weeks after stealing that glimpse up her skirt, I was still having inappropriate thoughts about my Mother and one afternoon while moping around the house, she asked me to carry a box of my father books upstairs to their bedroom. While I was in there, I noticed the laundry basket was overflowing, the lid on the floor along with a few pairs of my Mothers panties and a huge bra. The sight of those panties instantly resurrected the memory of the view up her skirt and I couldn’t resist; I quickly grabbed a couple of pairs and ran to my room, hiding them for later.

That night, I feigned tiredness as an excuse to go to bed early so that I could inspect my stolen haul of panties. I laid them on the bed – two pairs, a white thong style pair with a lacy front, the other, pale blue cotton with a full back. I put the blue pair back under my bed and held up the white lacy thong. It could very well have been the pair she was wearing that day. I remembered how they had dug in between her moist pussy lips and looked inside. Noticing the gusset was slightly stained, I brought them to my nose and inhaled a musky aroma. It was unlike anything I had ever smelled before. Placing them back on the bed, I masturbated furiously, imagining them on my Mother, until I blew my load all over the lacy front.

A few days later I watched TV while my Mother did housework upstairs and my father was at work.

“Danny, come upstairs. NOW.” She sounded angry.

I trudged up the stairs assuming I had forgotten to clear the cups out of my room or replace an empty loo roll in the bathroom, or any number of possible minor misdemeanours. Instead, I found her sitting on my bed with the panties in her hand.

“Can you explain this?”

“I, erm. I was…” I stammered, my face burning red.

“It’s quite obvious to me what you have been doing. I didn’t know you were…” Her sentence tailed off. “These are mine; I am your Mother you can’t…” Again, she couldn’t find the words to finish the sentence.

“I just. I was…” I didn’t know what to say. Overcome with shame and embarrassment, I ran. I ran outside, across the garden and into the woods and stayed there most of the day.

Six months later and that awkward situation remained unresolved, lost in the unfolding drama that had started shortly after, leading to my Mother and Father separating. He left us three months after my sixteenth birthday and on the day my Mother turned forty. They had been together since school. The asshole had been having an affair with a fellow teacher at the school he taught at. It was an awful time for a while, filled with sadness and endless tears, but with my Father gone, my Mother and I became closer than ever as it felt like it was me and her against the world. Then Julia moved to the village.

Julia was my Mothers best friend, despite them being like chalk and cheese. My Mother, Amanda, was about 5 foot 7 in height, with a full figure and large breasts. Her auburn shoulder length hair framed a pretty face that had, until recently, always seemed to be smiling. She’d always had a relaxed personality and was very down to earth. Embarrassingly to me back then, she often talked openly about sexual matters and had quite a dirty sense of humour. Julia, on the hand, was tanned, tall and slim with wavy blond hair. She always seemed to be dressed in expensive looking clothes and talked a lot about her big house and ex-husband. I thought she was a boring snob, but I did admire her perfect face and body. I never could see why my Mother was friends with her but I guess I didn’t really know her that well.

Almost a year after the separation, I was seventeen and attending college during the day and working in a shop some evenings. My Mother had started drinking more than usual and was spending more and more time with Julia, either at her house or ours. I would frequently go downstairs of a morning to find her passed out on the sofa; often her large breasts almost falling out of her dressing gown, or that it had ridden up to reveal her underwear. I would take in the view, saving it for later, before covering her with a blanket.

One evening I trudged through the village in the rain having caught the bus from town. I was in a pretty foul mood by the time I got home at just after 10 o’clock, which got worse when I opened the door to the sound of cackling laughter coming from the lounge. Julia, again.

I stood in the doorway to the lounge and saw several empty wine bottles on the coffee table. Some crappy chick flick playing on the TV.

“I’m home.”

My mother and Julia both turned to look at me. A smile creeping on to Julia’s face.

“Well, here he is, my little panty thief!” My Mother screeched, and they both roared with laughter.

I was fuming. I slammed the door and stormed up to my room feeling betrayed and humiliated. I lay in bed for ages trying to read but instead, kept thinking about why my Mother would have told Julia about the panties. Eventually I drifted off with no answer.

I woke with a jump as my bedroom door flew open, Julia stumbled in and unsteadily shuffled towards me.

“What the fuck?” I yelled.

“You know Danny Boy; you can jerk off into my panties any day.” She slurred. “While I’m wearing them!”

She cackled at her own joke as she tried to sit on my bed and missed. She slid on to the floor in a heap, her dress hitched up around her thighs, revealing black stocking tops. She was laughing uncontrollably.

“For fuck’s sake. Where is my Mum?” I shouted.

“Passed out downstairs.” She wheezed.

I got out of bed, stepped over her and stomped down the stairs to make sure my Mother was OK. She was half on the sofa half on the floor. I shook her awake.

“Come on Mum, let’s get you upstairs.” I said, lifting her up under her arms.

I guided her up the stairs and into her bedroom where she collapsed on to the bed on her front. I didn’t really know what else to do so I just left her and went back to my room to sort Julia out. She was now fast asleep on my bedroom floor, face down. I stood looking at her for a while then thought fuck it, I’ll sleep in the spare room.

After laying in the spare bed for about an hour, I couldn’t sleep and couldn’t shake the visions of Julia’s stockinged legs. A part of me wanted to see more. The feeling became all-consuming and I knew what I was about to do was wrong, very wrong.

I crept back into my bedroom where Julia still slept face down on the floor. I crouched at her legs and inched her dress up a bit, admiring the lacy black band at the top her stockings. I lifted it up further and let it drop, bunched up, on her lower back. I stared in awe at her ass cheeks. They were pert and looked firm, the fabric of her black panties disappearing between her buttocks. I wanted to grab them. Wanted to bury my face in there. I reached a hand out.

I heard movement and quickly pulled the dress down again. Sensed a presence to my right and looked to see my Mother standing in the doorway, leaning on the frame. I noticed she had changed into her silky pink dressing gown.

“What’s going on?” She asked weakly.

“Julia passed out in here. I was just making sure she was OK. I’m going to sleep in the spare room.”

“I don’t feel well.” She said, swaying slightly from side to side and turned to walk back to her room.

I stood up, silently thanking God, she hadn’t caught me in the act or seen that I had an erection. I was only wearing boxer shorts but had fortunately been crouched down.

As I got back to the spare room, I heard a crash coming from my Mothers room.

“What now?”

I opened the door to her bedroom and looked in. It was almost entirely dark except for the light coming from the ensuite.

“You OK Mum?”

A groan.

I walked into the ensuite to see my mother kneeling on the floor in front of the toilet.

“Oh, have you been sick?”

“No, I thought I was going to be. I feel terrible.” She mumbled. “Help me up will you Danny?”

I moved behind her to help her up and as she stood, her dressing gown, that I was unknowingly standing on the hem off, was pulled away, leaving her standing completely naked facing the mirror. I was frozen in amazement at the sight of her large breasts, the big dark nipples in contrast to the pale flesh surrounding them. I glanced down at the reflected image of fine, light brown hair covering her pubic mound.

“Danny!” She screeched.

“Shit, sorry, I was stood on the…”

She bent down to pick up the gown, her naked ass inches from my erect penis under my shorts. Standing up and wrapping the gown around her, she stumbled sideways, still tipsy.

“I need my bed.” She said feebly. “Get me some water, would you?”

She shuffled past and laid on the bed while I filled her glass with water. As I placed it on her bedside table, she reached out and grabbed my arm, pulling me toward her.”

“I am sorry Danny, for what I said. We were drunk, things got out of hand. I don’t know why…”

“Don’t worry about it.” I said, leaning over to kiss her forehead.

As I did, she put her arm around my back and pulled me down closer, kissing me on the lips.

“You’re a good boy Danny. Kind, like your Father.”

I felt her arm slide further down to the small of my back and she was still gently pulling me toward her.

“Night Mum.” I said and pulled away, before literally running back to the spare bedroom.

I climbed into bed and laid there my mind trying to process a thousand emotions as images of stockings and panties and breasts and nipples flashed before me.

I woke up confused to be in the spare bedroom and glanced at the alarm clock – Twenty passed nine. Fuck. I got up and looked in my room as the previous night’s drama began to replay in my head. No Julia.

My Mother was sat at the kitchen table looking fragile when I walked in.

“Where’s Julia?” I asked.

“Morning Danny. She had left by the time I got up”. She replied quietly.

“I’ve missed my bus to college.”

“I know. I was going to wake you but it was a late night and I thought you could do with a day off. I thought maybe we could talk.” She looked up, making eye contact. Despite a faint smile on her lips, there was a sadness in her eyes.

“Sure, I only had two classes today anyway. If it’s about last night, I already said not to worry about it.” I lied, as I was actually still pretty pissed off.

“Well, it was that and other stuff.” She said mysteriously.

I sat down opposite her and poured cereal into a bowl.

“What other stuff?”

“Well, last night we were pretty drunk and Julia told me some things about Jason and that’s why I ended up telling her about the panties thing. Again, I’m sorry…”

Jason was Julia’s son; he was a few years older than me.

“What about Jason?” I cut her off.

“You have to promise not to repeat this.” She said in a hushed tone.

“What?”

“Danny. Promise.”

“Ok, what is it?”

“Last year, she caught him spying on her while she was in the shower.”

“Oh.” I must have sounded disappointed.

“There’s more.” She whispered as if collaborating with an old friend.

“She found lots of her underwear in his room and heard him saying ‘things’ about her while obviously masturbating in his room.”

What could I say?

“Oh.” Was all I managed.

“So, anyway, she spoke to various people about it and apparently it’s perfectly normal for boys to fantasise about their mothers.”

“Mum, I don’t want to talk about this…”

“Danny, it’s fine. I realised I overreacted last year when…”

“Last year!? Do we need to talk about that? I thought you’d forgotten that.”

“I suppose I had until she told me about Jason. And last night…”

“What about last night?” I asked suspiciously.

“I saw the way you looked at me in the mirror and I just wanted you to know that I understand and if you feel confused by your feelings, just know that it’s normal.”

“Mum, this is too embarrassing.” I said, glad to be sat down at the table. I was only wearing my boxer shorts and a T-shirt and was now fully erect as I thought of the image of my naked mother.

“Sorry Danny, I know it must be embarrassing, I just wanted to clear things up.” She said as she got up to put the kettle on.

“Anyway, are you still seeing Lisa?” Subject thankfully changed.

Lisa was my first and only girlfriend and had lasted less than two months.

“No. She dumped me for Paul.” I replied.

“Oh, sweetie, I didn’t realise.” She said as she hugged me from behind.

I could feel my Mothers pendulous breasts pushing into my shoulders doing nothing to help my erection situation.

“Last night Julia also told me what she would like to do to you. You’ll have to watch that man-eater!” she laughed as she tickled my ribs.

Being hyper ticklish, I leapt up from my chair and spun around to get away from my Mother’s jabbing fingers. My erection now on full display as it strained at the front of my boxers.

“Mum!” I shouted and noticed her gaze drop to the bulge in my boxers.

“Oh, don’t worry Danny, your dad spent most of his life with a boner at your age too.” She laughed.

I slinked out of the room making a huffing noise but was secretly happy to have had the conversation. I was also glad my Mother’s sense of humour was starting to return. She seemed, just happier. Maybe her hanging around with Julia was a positive thing.

A few days later, I returned home from college glad to not be working in the shop that night; I had acquired a few porno magazines and had planned to spend the night in my room. As I walked in to the kitchen through the back door, my mother came shuffling in carrying a tube of something.

“Thank God you are home.” She said in obvious discomfort.

“What’s happened?” I asked, dropping my bag in the corner.

“I was moving some boxes of your fathers’ crap and have pulled a muscle in my back. Would you rub some Deep Heat on it for me?”

“Er, yeah, sure.” I replied.

She handed me the tube of cream and turned around facing the kitchen table.

“The pain is around the middle, half way up. I’ll pull my top up a bit, try not to get it on my clothes.”

She leant forward and pulled the back of her T-shirt up and over her head so her arms were still in it and her front was still covered. I noticed as she bent slightly, her black leggings were pulled tighter and were almost see through at the ass. She was obviously wearing a thong.

“What about your bra?” I asked.

“Oh, I didn’t think of that. Just undo the strap, will you?”.

The sight of my Mothers ass in the leggings and the white bra strap across the pale flesh of her back had caused me to become hard and as I fumbled to get the tiny hooks apart, I tried desperately not to rub my erect cock against her ass.

I squirted too much Deep Heat on my hand and began rubbing it in.

“Up a bit. Left a bit. A bit more…”

My Mother had now let go of her T-shirt and had both hands on the table edge. Her T-shirt was bunched up around her chest and the unstrapped bra was hanging low. I could see the side of a breast swinging gently as I massaged the cream in.

“Ooooohhh, that’s it, just there.” She moaned and stretched out a bit more, pushing back into my erection.

She immediately pulled away a little but said nothing. I expected her to call an end to it but she didn’t.

“Up just a bit more. Sweetie”

I couldn’t believe it when she pushed back into me again. Was it deliberate? Didn’t she notice?

“Thanks Danny.” She purred as she straightened up, back to me, pulling her T-shirt over her head and down. She then somehow pulled her bra away through her sleeve and placed it on the table.

“What would I do without you?” She asked as she turned round and leaned in to kiss me on the cheek. Her breasts jiggling under the T-shirt.

“No worries.” I said, feeling flustered and picked my bag up to leave.

As I left, she gently grabbed my wrist.

“Danny, tea will be ready in about an hour, I’ve made a Chilli.” She smiled her beautiful smile.

“Ok Mum, thanks. I’ll be down in a bit.” As I said it, our eyes locked and there was a spark of something there that was different. I can’t explain it properly; just a fleeting moment in which a connection was made on a different level.

I went upstairs to my room and masturbated to the vision of my Mother bent over the table. I imagined I had run my hands over her ass in those tight leggings before pulling them down to reveal her naked ass cheeks. Imagined pulling the thong to the side and slipping my hard cock between her moist pussy lips. Various stored images combining to complete the visual narrative to this latest erotic fantasy involving my Mother. I came quickly; thick jets of cum erupting over my stomach and as high as my chest.

It was just after ten on a Friday night. As I walked down the stairs, the front door opened and my mother walked in. She smiled up at me, her hair catching the breeze as the door shut.

“Hi honey, been home long? I was at Julia’s.”

“About an hour I replied. “You shouldn’t walk across the village in the dark; you know there’s a flasher about.”

“I wish” she said, with a hint of a devious smile.

“What?”

“Nothing. You are kind to worry about me though.” She said, as she leaned on my shoulder to remove her shoes.

As I turned away, she playfully smacked my ass.

“How about you make me a nice coffee?”

I walked down the hall into the kitchen thinking she’s never done that before. We have quite a tactile relationship, with hugs and kisses, but not that!

“In fact, forget the coffee, I’ll have a wine.” She shouted after me.

“I think you’ve had enough already.”

“Jeez, I’ve only had a few! Why don’t you have one of those Lagers that have been in the fridge since your Dad left and chill out. Let’s see if we can find a film to watch.”

It wasn’t exactly what I had planned for the night – watching a film with my Mother, but I didn’t want to ruin her good mood and didn’t have much else to do anyway. I walked into the lounge to find she had already changed into her silky pink dressing gown and was sitting at one end of the sofa. I put her wine and my can of lager on the coffee table and sat at the other end. I would usually have sat in the armchair but it was piled high with washing to be folded and I couldn’t be bothered to move it.

“Thanks, sweetie. There’s this horror that started ten minutes ago if you fancy it?”

“Yeah, OK.” I replied and glanced sideways to see her curled up in the corner of the sofa. The silky gown had ridden up and her milky white thighs were on display. The thinness of the material doing nothing to hide the lines of her bra either.

We watched the movie in silence for a while, my Mother jumping at every scary bit, sometimes resorting to hiding behind a cushion. After a little while longer, she turned to me looking worried.

“Danny, this film is bloody scary. Can I come down that end with you?”

“It’s just a film Mum, but yeah, go on then.”

I was half laying, half sitting on the sofa with my legs on the seat and feet hanging over the edge. After pouring and drinking back another half glass of wine, she shuffled up to my end and wedged herself between me and the back of the sofa, so that she was also partially laying on it with her head resting on my chest.

We made it to the end of the film after an hour of her jumping and grabbing my thigh every now and again. With that and the feeling of her left breast weighing down on my stomach, it took all my distraction techniques to avoid getting an erection.

As the credits rolled, I was about to slide away to stand up when she looked up at me.

“You know, Julia told me something else about Jason tonight.”

“Really?” I asked and stayed where I was, genuinely interested to hear whatever it was.

“I’m not sure I should say.”

“Well, you have to tell me now!” I said, playfully pushing her further into the back of the sofa.

“You mustn’t tell a soul.” She said in that hushed, conspirative tone.

“I promise.”

“Well, you know when Jason had his accident last year and broke his arm and dislocated the other?”

“Yes.”

“She told me that almost every time she went up to his room with food and drink, or to give him his painkillers, he had a boner. So, one day, feeling sorry for him, she gave him a hand job.”

“No way! Lucky bastard!” I exclaimed, a bit too loudly.

“Lucky?”

“I mean, to get a hand job. Not because it’s Julia or that it’s his Mum.” I hastily clarified.

“Mmm.” She almost sounded disappointed. “But what do you think of Julia giving her own son a hand job?”

Her hand was on my thigh. She rotated her body a little and looked up so that she could study my face as I responded.

“Well, obviously it’s not right, but I don’t know, it was an unusual situation for him I guess.” I replied, although it probably sounded more like a question.

The feeling of her large breasts on my stomach and her hand on my thigh was having an effect. The close proximity of my Mother, as we openly talked about her friend giving her son a hand job, made me feel an awkward excitedness. My erection causing a noticeable bulge in my jeans.

We fell silent for a few moments, the only sound coming from the TV.

“So, you like getting a hand job, do you?” She asked, inquisitively.

“Mum, this is way too awkward.”

“Come on Danny, you can tell me anything, you know that.” She said earnestly.

“Mum, I’m only seventeen, no one has ever given me one.”

“Nearly eighteen. What about that Lisa?”

“We never really did anything other than kiss and a bit of groping.” I replied, probably sounding quite pathetic.

She looked up at me again.

“So, you’ve never actually…”

“No.”

“Oh, Danny. I didn’t realise, I just assumed…”

She rested her head on my chest again and put her hand on my stomach. Another awkward silence filled the room.

“I could give you a hand job, if you want?” She said quietly, placing her hand back on my thigh, a bit higher than last time.

I couldn’t think what to say. “Err…”

She slowly moved her hand up my thigh until it was resting just below the bulge in my jeans. She gently squeezed.

“I know I shouldn’t. I know you know I shouldn’t. To tell you the truth, I don’t care and I want to. I haven’t done anything with another man since your dad left and some of the things Julia has been telling me…” She trailed off.

“It is wrong, but who has to know other than us? What happens in our house, stays in our house, right?” With that, she moved her hand up, lightly brushing my throbbing erection, before resting it on my stomach again just above my belt buckle.

The feeling of another person touching my cock was amazing. The fact it was my Mother was out of this world. I had fantasized over her for so long, almost to the point of obsession, and there we were, lying next to each other on the sofa, her breasts pushing into me, her hand inches from my cock.

“OK.” I nervously whispered.

She carefully unzipped my jeans and put her hand in to pull my cock out through the hole in my boxers. I groaned as it sprang free and she wrapped her fingers around its girth before releasing her grip slightly and sliding her hand down into my boxers to gently squeeze my balls. She moved her hand back up to the top, gripping it lightly and placing her thumb on my pee hole, rubbing the precum around in a loose circular motion. She sighed quietly as she gripped my cock and started to move her hand up and down with a slow, deliberate rhythm. I was in ecstasy; the soft glow from the TV reflected from her shiny auburn hair, shadows danced across the walls and the only sounds other than the TV, were from our slightly laboured breathing and the occasional delicate sigh from my Mother. her chest heaved in and out against the side of my stomach, her hand soft and warm as it masturbated my throbbing penis. She increased the rhythm slightly, moved her right leg up and crossed it over my legs. I could feel the damp warmth from her pussy through her panties against my right thigh, just above the knee. My head span, my balls tightened. I groaned long and low, almost animalistic in its sound as I ejaculated a huge wad of cum onto my chest. Multiple streams of cum followed, coating her hand and my stomach, leaving large dark wet patches all over my T-shirt.

She sat up and reached for the tissue box on the coffee table. After cleaning her hand and wrist she leaned over and kissed my forehead.

“I need to go to bed, Danny.” She said quietly and left me laying on the sofa barely able to move.

Saturday morning. I woke up nearer to lunch time than breakfast and lay there for ages thinking about the night before. What had happened was obviously wrong. It had felt great though and I started to stiffen at the thought of my Mother stroking my cock, replaying every minute in my mind as if watching a favourite film for the tenth time. I wondered if it would be awkward between us and delayed going downstairs for a while longer.

Finally, I got up and went down stairs to face whatever it was that needed facing but found the house to be empty. I looked out of the window and saw the car was gone. I ate some breakfast and watched TV for a few hours then got bored. I used the phone to call Ben and arranged a trip into town. As we wandered about, looking in the shops, I couldn’t stop thinking about the previous night and my Mothers absence. Were they linked? Was she ashamed?

I got home around four and was getting worried when there was still no sign of my Mother. After another hour of watching TV and worrying, I heard the car pull up followed by the sound of the front opening.

“Danny, give us a hand, would you?”

She was piling shopping bags in the doorway. I carried them into the kitchen and the door slammed shut as she arrived in the kitchen just after me with arms full of more carrier bags.

“Hi honey, how was your day?” She said, pecking me on the cheek.

She was wearing a white silky blouse, a black skirt that stopped half way down her thighs and black heels. I thought if she’d worn glasses, she would have looked like one of the ‘secretaries’ in my latest porno magazine.

“It was OK; went to town with Ben for a bit and watched TV.” I must have sounded dejected.

She stopped rummaging in the shopping bags.

“What’s wrong Danny?”

“Nothing. It’s just, I don’t know. I didn’t know how things were going to be between us after last night and you weren’t here all day…”

She hugged me, pressing her large breasts into my chest. Still holding my waste, she leaned back a little to look up into my eyes and smiled.

“Everything is fine between us Danny, never better in fact. I was called into work because Debbie went sick and then I went food shopping.” She squeezed me hard and then released me to return to the shopping.

I sat down at the kitchen table and watched as she bent down to get stuff out of the bags, admiring how the dress clung to her ass cheeks. Noticed the blouse ride up and gather under her breasts as she reached up to the cupboards. I wandered if she was wearing tights or stockings like those Julia was wearing that night.

“You can help if you want.” She smiled.

“I’m just admiring the view.” I replied, without thinking.

I turned red. Why had I said that!?

She grinned and put her hands on her hips, cocking her head a little.

“I’m flattered, but seriously give me hand.” She threw a box of tea bags at me.

As we moved around the kitchen putting stuff away, we invariably brushed against each other now and again. I don’t know if it was my overactive imagination but she seemed to be exaggerating her actions; every time she bent over, she would stick her ass out just a little too far. She made a show of stretching just beyond her limit so everything was pulled tight. The tension was killing me.

After everything was put away, we sat down at the kitchen table and waited for the pizza to cook. She undone the top few buttons of her blouse, enough to reveal a hint of cleavage.

“Mum, can I ask you something?”

“Anything, anytime, sweetie.”

“Last night, after…You know when you, er…” I felt I was turning red.

“Wanked you off?” She said, smiling “There’s no need to be embarrassed, Danny.”

“Yeah, er, why… It’s just… Well, you seemed to leave in a hurry. I didn’t know if I did…”

“Danny, you did nothing wrong. I just needed to go and take care of myself.” She said as and put her hands on mine.

“What do you mean, take care of… Oh, right. Sorry, I didn’t think about…” My sentence hung in the air a while.

“Danny, don’t worry. I understand your age and inexperience; I didn’t expect anything in return.”

She smiled and our eyes met, that strange feeling again. The oven timer went off and broke the connection. She stood up and pulled the hem of the skirt tight, went to the oven and removed the pizza, leaving it on the counter to cool for a minute. She turned to face me.

“If you want, we can do more than just a hand job. I can teach you what a woman wants, needs. I can give you experience.” She looked at me earnestly. “Only if you want to?”

I was silent for what must have seemed an age as I processed what she had said. Was my Mother actually offering to have sex with me?

“Yes.” Was my simple answer.

Later that night I was lazing on the sofa watching TV while my Mother busily tidied the kitchen and sorted the washing. She walked into the lounge and stood in front of the TV looking down at me. I was trying to look round her when she hitched her skirt up a bit, reached up and pulled her panties down over her thighs, wriggling free and stepping out of them. I lay there transfixed as she picked them up and threw them at me.

“I’m going up for a shower, I’ll call you when I’m ready. Unless you’d rather watch TV?” She smiled, raising an eye brow and left.

I inspected the black lace panties; I felt their warmth as I bought them to my face, the sweet yet musky scent of my Mother was intoxicating. I instantly became erect but could only wait in anticipation.

“Danny, I’m ready.”

I raced up the stairs, two steps at a time and entered the bedroom to see her standing at the end of the bed with just a large towel wrapped around her. The room was dimly lit by a single bedside lamp. She smiled when she saw me. My cock twitched.

“Are you sure about this?” She asked.

I just nodded.

She undid the towel and let it fall to the floor, revealing her wonderful body. My eyes were immediately drawn to her large breasts; the dark pink, brownish areolas surrounding thick, long, erect nipples. They were neither sagging or firm, just somewhere in between; I thought it would take both of my hands to hold just one breast. My gaze tracked down over her stomach which was not flat but not flabby either. Her pubic area was now shaved, gone was the wispy light brown hair I had seen a few weeks ago; I could see just the very top of her vagina, the pink lips contrasted against the paleness of her skin.

She stepped forward and took my hand, placing it on her left breast. I instinctively sunk my fingers in and kneaded the soft flesh, feeling her erect nipple poking into my palm.

“More gently.” She whispered, placing her hand over mine.

I released my grip and moved my hand around the side and then underneath, lifting it slightly, surprised by the weight. I moved my hand back up in more of a caressing motion, this time allowing my palm to rasp over her erect nipple.

“That’s better, good.” She purred. “How about sucking on my nipples?”

I leaned forward and sucked her nipple into my mouth. It felt slightly rubbery and tasted of sweet body lotion. She sighed and put her hand on the back of my neck.

“lick it, Danny. Lick around the outside and then suck it. Rub you tongue over it.”

I obliged, she groaned and by applying light pressure to my head, signalled for me to move to the other breast. I gently squeezed her left breast while I tongued and sucked on her right nipple. The pleasurable noises she made told me I was doing it well.

She pulled back and I straightened up. She looked into my eyes.

“OK?” She asked.

I nodded. She pulled my T-shirt over my head and ran her hands over my chest and down my stomach, slipping her fingers under the waistband of my joggers just enough to touch my pubic hair. My erect cock throbbed in expectation but she ran her hand back up over my chest and placed it on my shoulder, her thumb gently caressing the base of my neck.

“Do you want to see my pussy?” She whispered, a hint of desperation in her tone.

“Yes.” I said, slowly nodding.

She backed up and sat down on the bed, her legs hanging over the edge, leaned back on her arms that stretched out behind. She was looking up, staring into my eyes as she slowly opened her legs. I stood amazed at the sight before me. Her pubic mound and the outer regions of her pussy were a pink reddish colour from being freshly shaved. Her pussy lips were surprisingly large and looked incredibly soft; they were a much darker pink compared to her thighs and glistened very slightly.

Without instruction or invitation, I knelt down between her thighs and leaned in closer to her pussy. I could feel the warmth radiating from her, could smell her scent, needed to taste her. I was living the fantasy I had created in my mind many times before. I placed my hands on her thighs, gently pushing her legs further apart and licked her pussy. She slumped back on the bed, groaning with pleasure as I worked my tongue between the folds of her meaty pussy lips and over her clitoris. I leant back a bit and reached out my hand to touch her. I explored her outer lips with my fingers, smearing her juices and my saliva around the dark folds before pushing a finger in. She responded with a loud groan and I felt her contract around my finger. I pulled it out and placed my finger in my mouth to taste her juices and was rewarded with a taste I’d never experienced and couldn’t begin to describe.

I pushed two fingers in and moved them in and out slowly, my thumb catching her clitoris on every ‘in stroke’. I was relying purely on instinct and what I had read in porno magazines as guidance, my Mother’s sighs and moans and little whimpers of pleasure, confirming I was doing it right. I kept fingering her pussy as I leaned in and licked around her clitoris, applying pressure with my tongue as I pressed against the front of her vaginal wall with my fingers. After a few minutes, her pussy clamped onto my fingers and her legs shut around my head, trapping me, as she shook uncontrollably. Her soft moans had become loud screams and grunts as she rode my face and fingers. I was becoming concerned that I was going to suffocate when she finally released her vice like grip and quickly sat up.

She pulled me up so that I was standing in front of her and she literally ripped my joggers and shorts down, releasing my erect cock. Precum was leaking already as she, without a word, leaned forward and sucked my cock into her mouth. I nearly came in that instant but somehow held on. She moved her head back and forth milking me with her mouth, her hands on my hips. I emulated what I had seen in the porno magazines and placed my hands on her head but she quickly removed them with her hands, meshing her fingers with mine as she continued to work my throbbing cock with just her mouth.

As if she could sense my impending orgasm, she stopped and stood up.

“I want you to fuck me, Danny.” She hissed desperately and climbed on to the bed laying on her back.

I climbed on the bed and manoeuvred myself between her legs and laid down, my cock resting against her pussy, my chest squashing her breasts. She snaked a hand down between us and gripped my cock, guiding it to her entrance. I pushed and missed, tried again and slid inside her warm, wet tunnel. She released a huge moan, as did I, having never felt anything so exquisite in my entire life. I began to slide my cock in and out of her pussy in a regular rhythm, her arms around my waist until she pushed me up and away from her while pushing her hips towards me so I ended up kneeling between her legs, still thrusting back and forth. This sent her wild again as my cock angled up into the front of her pussy. She was rubbing her clitoris with one hand and gripping the sheet for dear life with the other as another orgasm consumed her. The feeling of her pussy contracting against my cock brought a swift end to any chance I had of holding back any longer. I surprised myself with the growling noise I made as I threw my head back, balls tightening and released a torrent of cum into my Mothers pussy. This sent her on the path to another mini orgasm and I finally collapsed onto her, our bodies slick with sweat, chests heaving, my Mother making sweet sighing noises in my ear.

My cock began to soften and slid out of her pussy, followed by a deluge of cum and my Mother’s juices. I rolled off and lay next to her on my back as she turned to face me and placed an arm across my chest.

“I love you, Danny.” She whispered and kissed my cheek.

I woke up confused. Then I remembered why I was in my Mothers bed, I smiled as I relived the experience in my head, but there was another feeling gnawing at the edges; the knowledge we had crossed the boundary of moral and social acceptance. I tried to push it to the back of my mind as I strolled into my own room and got some clothes together before taking a shower.

“Morning! Put the kettle on again, will you?” My Mother’s smile beaming at me as I walked into the kitchen.

“Morning.” I replied, feeling awkward.

I fumbled around, making the cups of Coffee while my Mother watched silently from the kitchen table. From her smile and look of contentment, I concluded that she didn’t feel any awkwardness. I placed her cup down in front of her and went to walk into the lounge but she grabbed my arm and pulled me back.

“Are you OK, Danny? You’re very quiet”

“Just tired I guess.” I replied.

“To tired for this?” She reached out and gently grabbed my crotch through my Joggers and squeezed.

I groaned slightly and felt myself getting hard, she continuing to squeeze and fondle my balls and within less than a minute, I was fully erect and panting as she rubbed my shaft. She leaned forward and pulled my Joggers and shorts down, looked up questioningly and decided I wasn’t going to object, before sucking my cock into her mouth. Her hand massaged my balls while the other gripped my ass, working her mouth back and forth greedily. I was getting close and tried to pull back but she gripped me tighter and kept going. Something in my peripheral vision caught my attention; a shape passing the kitchen window? The distraction gained me another few minutes before I could hold on no longer. I again tried to pull away, not knowing what to do, but again she gripped me, sinking her mouth as far it would go over my cock until it touched the back of her throat. I exploded into her, wave after wave of cum shooting into her mouth and throat. The pressure built and cum squeezed out from the edge of her mouth dripping onto her T-shirt covered breasts. She released me, gasping for air and I staggered back on jelly legs and slumped into the nearest chair.

“Well, is it a good morning now?” She asked, smiling.

“Fuck yeah!” I replied, still recovering.

The door knocked. We looked at each other puzzled and I quickly pulled my Joggers up and went upstairs, listening from my room.

“Oh, hi Julia. How nice to see you, come in. Fancy a tea?” My Mother didn’t sound as happy to see Julia as she usually did.

I laid on my bed in a dream like state while those two gossiped in the kitchen for what seemed like an eternity. I must have fallen asleep as I woke with a start when my door opened.

“Danny Boy! How are you?” Julia stood in the doorway looking down at me. A smirk on her perfect face, sky blue eyes smiling in amusement.

“Hi Julia, I’m good thanks, and you?” I replied suspiciously.

“Your Mum has just popped to the shop to get some milk, so I thought I’d say hi.” She walked over to my bed and sat on the edge, smiling at me.

“Er, OK.”

“You wouldn’t believe what I saw this morning, Danny.” She said, almost mockingly.

“What.”

“I saw your Mum sucking your cock in the kitchen. I saw everything through the kitchen window, Danny Boy. She even had your cum on her top when she answered the door, for Christ’s sake!”

“Fuck.”

“Yes, Fuck indeed. So, Danny, my silence is going to cost you. Can you imagine the damage it would cause you and your mother if that little secret got out!”

“What? I… Why? … How?… I don’t have much…”

She placed her hand on my thigh. A vice like grip.

“I don’t want your money, Danny. I want you to fuck me. I want you to fuck me whenever I want to be fucked.” She hissed the words and grabbed my crotch.

“But… I…”

The front door opened. Thank God! She stood up.

“You can think on it of course, but the way I see it, if you don’t want you and your Mum to be humiliated and ridiculed, maybe even investigated by the police, you really don’t have much choice at all.” With that, she smiled sweetly and left.