This story took place several years ago when I was of the
tender age of eighteen. I swear that although I’ve used some poetic
license to “entertain the reader” (ahem) the events described are
absolutely true.I have had conflicting feelings of guilt and nostalgia
ever since these events took place, and it has helped immensely
reading these newsgroups and finding that others have had similar
experiences and that I am not so much a freak as I thought. Maybe this
tale can help others in a similar position. I would be delighted to
see comments, especially from Moms and others who have had similar
experiences. The story doesn’t end here.
The episode which would change my life irrevocably (and I
believe sincerely, for the better) started one Wednesday afternoon
when I was taken ill at school with abdominal pain and vomitting. It
proved later to be only transient, but resulted in my being sent home
from school half way through the afternoon.
My mom’s job as a pharmacist in a store meant that she usually
arrived home considerably later than me, and I let myself into the
house using my key. As a rule I also met my nine-year old sister from
school and prepared us a snack til Mom got in about 5.30 or so. This
had been the norm since my father had died suddenly eighteen months
previously. Although we weren’t poor, his insurance hadn’t allowed us
to wallow in luxury, either.
Anyway, I knew my mother enjoyed her work in that it allowed
her to come into contact with people outside the immediate family.What
I had forgotten, however, was that she worked only half a day on
Wednesdays…
Feeling the need to pee, I headed straight to the bathroom,
but as I reached the landing, I stopped short as I heard some unusual,
slightly muffled noises coming from my mom’s room just down the hall.
Some instinct told me to be cautious and I silently approached the
bedroom door.
Fortunately the carpet was thick and absorbed the sound of my
footsteps.
The door was slightly ajar and as I peeped through the gap I
could see into the mirrored wardrobes on the far wall. It was
immediately clear what was making the noise. There, imaged perfectly
in the mirror, and lying almost naked on the bed, her torso supported
by two or three pillows, was my mother. The position of the mirror
meant that I was looking directly up at her from below and could see
her feet, legs and genitals.Her position suggested she was observing
her own actions. She was wearing only a pair of very sheer,
expensive-looking stockings and a suspender belt, and it was obvious
even to me, a rather naive fifteen-year-old what she was doing. Her
right hand was resting on her pubic mound and the middle finger was
making rhythmic circular movements at the top of her clearly visible
cunt. I was surprised to see how red and luxuriant was her pubic hair.
Her left hand, meanwhile, was slowly exploring the rest of her exposed
body, stroking her thighs, lower abdomen and buttocks. As I watched,
stunned, her left hand travelled up her abdomen and cupped her right
breast, gently kneading the soft, milky flesh and pinching, then
rolling the nipple between finger and thumb, which from her
vocalisation she greatly enjoyed.
This left hand seemed to me almost to have a mind of its own,
as if another person were caressing her with it. She had her eyes
tight closed at this point, preoccupied with her own fantasies, or
else it is certain she would have seen me. She was emitting tiny
groans of pleasure in time with her slow right hand movements as she
wanked herself. I became aware of a musky,familiar yet unfamiliar
scent in the room, and a delicious chill went through me as I realised
I could smell my own mother’s pussy juices as she stimulated herself.
My cock began to harden rapidly as this occurred to me.
I had the sense to shift position slightly into the hall
shadow so that although I could still see most of her body, I was less
visible from her angle and I could hopefully stay undiscovered. I
stared like some small animal hypnotised by a snake. This was my
mother I was watching, doing something I had massive guilt trips about
indulging in myself-and not only did she seem to be enjoying it, but
from the deft way she stroked her clit she was obviously well
practised. I simply couldn’t tear my eyes from her moistened slit, and
not only that but I began to feel a terrible urge to take out my by
now rock hard penis and wank in synchrony with her. I pushed this
shameful thought aside with some difficulty, but my arousal grew
second by second.
As I stood open mouthed, my mother’s hand movements gradually
accelerated in proportion to her lust.She began to squeeze her breast
harder, crushing it against her chest wall and pinching the large pink
nipple.She licked her fingers and used the saliva as a lubricant to
stimulate the erect teat. Her hips began to lift off the bed
slightly,thrusting rhythmically as she moved that middle finger
faster, and its motion changed from a circling to a rubbing, flicking.
With her left hand she reached under her buttocks and used two fingers
to hold her cunt lips apart, exposing her clitoris more, the pink
glistening flesh of her hole open wide for me to admire. Her breathing
was becoming faster, more ragged, and the soft groans and moans she
was making began to take on an urgency. She began to whisper to
herself, words I couldn’t hear, but from the squirming of her body
they were bringing her to a new level of arousal. By this time my legs
were trembling so much I thought I wouldn’t be able to stand, and my
cock felt as if I were in serious danger of spontaneously coming in my
pants. I was desperately trying to keep my breathing under control for
fear of being overheard. Looking back on it, though, there wasn’t much
chance of that – Mom was clearly in a world of her own at this point.
She was gasping for breath now, and with each exhalation making a
little whimpering noise as she rubbed her clit in her desperate need
for release.
Her pelvis was rocking back and forth,and still she held her
puffy vulval lips open to my view as she continued to spread them with
her other hand, the fingers of which I could clearly see were soaked
with her juices. Ahh Ahh Ahh AHH AAHHH AAAHHHH !!! – suddenly she
began a rapid gasping crescendo and at the same time she slid the
middle finger of her left hand into her soaking cunt hole – still
frigging her clit with the other hand.
I could see her pistoning finger glistening with wetness and
she thrust her pelvis upwards in a series of shuddering jerks as she
climaxed. There was an unbelievably stimulating new sound now – I
could hear the wet, regular plunging of her finger in and out of that
most forbidden of places as her orgasm reached its peak. The muscles
of her legs were taut and straining beneath the sheer material of her
stockings for a while, then as her ecstasy ebbed she slowly relaxed
and lay back limply on the bed.
How I didn’t ejaculate at the height of her orgasm I really
don’t know, but I had never been so sexually excited in my life – not
even my most stimulating fantasies came close to this experience.
Somehow I managed to creep back out the way I entered, while I could
hear Mom’s breathing subsiding to normal behind me.
I made my way to the local shopping mall and immediately went
to the public toilet and jerked off in a cubicle. My penis was already
moist with pre-cum and it took me only a few strokes to shoot the rest
of my wad, my eyes closed, replaying the deliciously wicked secret
peep show to which I had been treated.
After my immediate need for sexual release had been satisfied,
however, a wave of powerful and conflicting emotions overtook me.
Mostly I felt sordid and guilty. I had spied on my own mother in the
most private and intimate of acts, then to compound the crime I had
wanked off whilst fantasising about her. I had never consciously
looked at my mom in a sexual light but now all of a sudden she was the
first live woman I had seen performing any sort of intimate act. Of
course I kept some mildly pornographic literature and pictures hidden
away and masturbated to these regularly, but at that age I was quite
shy with girls, having had only three dates and no experience of
serious necking, even. Although I had heard that women masturbate, I
don’t think I quite believed it or understood the technique. Another
shock was how physically good looking my mother was. The job she had
meant that she was always neat and nicely made-up, but today it
occurred to me that she was actually a very attractive woman. At the
age of thirty-seven she remained slim and could pass for several years
younger. She had a neat trim figure with smallish, nicely-shaped
breasts, a firm behind and slim, long legs. She wore spectacles as a
rule, but she was one of those women who suited them, and always chose
flattering frames, so that it has always seemed to me that she was
better looking wearing them than without. But her best feature was her
hair, which was thick, lustrous and a beautiful dark copper-auburn
colour, which she wore shoulder length, or at work, in a pony tail or
bun.
I felt bound, in my present state of mind, to compare her
naked form to the models in the glossy mags tucked in my secret stash,
and to my mild surprise she was in no way less tempting. I knew for a
fact that she had been asked out on dates after my father’s death, but
had always refused.
His illness had been very traumatic, and I don’t think she had
yet recovered from the stress of it.
All these thoughts and more raced around in my brain like
angry bees, and I wandered the mall for an hour or so almost in a
daze. It didn’t help my mood that every passer-by seemed to stare at
me as if sensing what I had been doing.
The time came to collect my sister from her school, and I did
so as usual.
At every step towards home I became more reluctant to go
further. What if my mom had seen me after all? What if she had been in
contact with school in my absence? What if she had drifted off to
sleep in her naked state and were still there now? However, on the
basis that there was really no other place to go, I let us both in. To
my overwhelming relief, my mom was in the kitchen with a cup of tea
and reading the newspaper. She seemed happy and chirpy, and acted
towards me in a perfectly normal mother-son manner.
It struck me immediately what a gorgeous woman she was when
viewed objectively. She did ask me that evening if I was feeling O.K.-
possibly something in my manner alerted her – but I told her about my
illness at school, and this seemed an acceptable explanation.
That night in bed I lay awake for ages wrestling with my
feelings and eventually had to masturbate again before I could sleep.
Over the days and weeks which followed I couldn’t get the
memory of that day out of my mind, and I became gradually obsessed
with my mother. I began staying awake into the early morning, creeping
along the passage and listening outside her room for those same
delicious noises which had sparked this. I went through her underwear
drawers, imagining stroking the silky material with her lovely flesh
underneath, especially those dark sensual stockings. I even – God help
me – took soiled panties out of the laundry, held them over my face
and inhaled that beautiful, cock-hardening smell of her womanhood. Of
course at least once a day I would have to rerun the mental tape I had
of her frigging herself off to that shuddering climax and each time I
would spurt my seed in an equally intense orgasm as I imagined what
that gorgeous glistening wet pussy would feel like grasping my prick
as she thrust and spasmed against me.
My mother sensed something was wrong and asked several times
what was troubling me, and although it was on the tip of my tongue to
confess I never quite had the courage.
Eventually my nocturnal vigils were rewarded. One night about
a month after my first revelation, I crept silently along to my
mother’s bedroom door. This time the door was almost shut, and
although our house was never really dark I couldn’t see inside at all
but I literally almost fainted when I heard a rhythmical rustling and
rapid heavy breathing. I was naked and immediately began to stroke my
erect tool as I imagined my mother’s fingers stroking that gorgeous
glistening slit, cupping those milky boobs.
Slowly, the pace of the movements inside the room increased,
and there was an occasional soft moan, but muffled, and it seemed as
if mom was restraining herself, trying to keep quiet – probably in
order not to wake her two children. Somehow – possibly because I was
cold – possibly because of guilt – I could not stimulate myself to
ejaculation, and I found that I was getting a bit sore. However, as I
heard the breathing beyond the door quicken I was mentally bursting
with desire. Mom was obviously getting close now, and when there came
that same wet squelching sound whose source I had fantasised about so
much lately I knew I could stand outside no longer. As silently as I
could, I pushed open the door and slipped into the room. Mom froze
instantly when I entered. She straightened her legs (which had been
bent at the knees and wide open beneath the sheets) and tried to speak
in a normal voice as she looked at me. But she was breathing fast as
though she had been running hard. “Jim, is that you? What’s wrong.?”
I couldn’t reply as I approached the bed. My heart felt as if
it would pound out of my chest. I slid quickly between the sheets and
snuggled close to her, my erect penis pressing into her upper thigh.
As our naked flesh touched, a feeling as if I had been electrocuted
passed through me.
Mom for her part stiffened and gasped with surprise and shock.
She was so stunned by my appearance she could not react to what I did
next.
I could barely speak, or think, but I blurted out ” I love
you, Mom,” in a thick, barely audible whisper. Trembling hard, I slid
my hand over my mother’s soft warm flank and across her lower abdomen,
through her thick wiry brush, and put the flat of my fingers against
those deliciously warm, moist, delicate folds of her pussy lips. This
caused an immediate response from my mother, who had clearly been on
the very edge of orgasm as I entered the room. She immediately clamped
her hand on top of mine and pressed hard against her. “Jim, no!
Don’t… no… Ohhhhhhhhhhhh!” Her hips twitched spastically against
my hand as she went over the edge and came despite her protest.Her
cunt lips pulsed against my fingers six or eight times and there was a
distinct increase in that beautiful wet slickness as her love juices
flowed over my fingers. In the half light I could see her biting her
lip to stay silent as the waves of passion coursed through her.
As her spasms ceased she roughly thrust my hand away, and
there was real anger in her voice as she said, “Jim, get out! That was
a terrible thing to do! Get away! Go back to bed!” She was almost in
tears.
Never in all my wildest dreams had I expected this reaction.
My fantasies always involved my mother reciprocating my passion.
Instead she was filled with disgust. I tried half-heartedly to explain
but she wasn’t listening, getting more and more furious until I fled,
confused, back to my bedroom.
I lay awake almost all night, berating myself in my shame and
guilt. My dreams of sexual intimacy with my mother were in ashes.
Worse, I was scared stiff she would be forced to report me to some
official agency. For the first time since my father died I cried
myself to sleep.
Next morning, I descended to the kitchen with dread. Mom was
already up and from the redness around her eyes she apparently hadn’t
slept much either. I was too ashamed to speak, and the cold, tight-
lipped look she shot at me made me feel like a worm. Breakfast was
spent in silence, as I avoided her eyes and stared into my cereals.
Eventually my mother broke the silence. “Jim, what were you thinking of
last night? You must know that that sort of thing is terribly
wrong.You… you’ve embarrassed me so much… I feel so ashamed…
She was again on the verge of tears, and as her face crumpled I came
over and gave her a hug, though she kept her hands over her eyes, not
reciprocating my gesture.
“I’m sorry, Mom.It was all my fault. I promise it’ll never
happen again,”
I mumbled.
“O.K,” she said, wiping her eyes. “The incident is closed. It
never happened, understand?”
I nodded.
True to her word, over the subsequent days Mom never mentioned
that night, and I thought for a time that maybe that really was the
end of the matter.
But gradually, over the next few weeks, things happened to
make me think differently. First of all after a spell of being “good”
I began again to fantasise about making love to my mom.This was
despite feeling ashamed of myself, and consumed with guilt each time
this happened. Eventually I was beating myself off every night once
more, each time in my imagination coming simultaneously with my mother
as she gasped in passion beneath me.
Secondly, there was a subtle but definite change in Mom’s
attitude to me.
I occasionally caught her looking at me a little oddly – in a
sort of appraising way, to my mind. She would quickly look away when
she saw that I had noticed, and maybe even blushed a time or two.
At first I told myself that it was all in my own fevered
imagination, but there slowly developed a definite sexual tension
between us which increased with time. If we touched, for instance,
there was a frisson which I began to recognise we could both feel.
Mom began to come out from the bath or shower, or even just
down to breakfast sometimes wearing only a flimsy bathrobe or nightie.
This was unheard of, even when my dad was alive, and it was
particularly disturbing in the evening after my little sister was in
bed when we might sit watching T.V. til late. I would be acutely aware
of Mom’s long, lovely legs protruding from beneath these hardly
adequate items of clothing, the hem or edge of which would only just
cover her pubes. Often, I would steal a hungry look in her direction
to try to catch a glimpse of naked thigh or the swell of her barely
concealed breast. On such occasions she would never meet my eye, but
study the T.V. or some book intently, but she would begin to flush,
and I came to know in my heart of hearts that she was aware of the
effect this was having on me. Because of my previous experience
however, I could never bring the matter out in the open and speak to
Mom about it.
About three months after my original disastrous escapade, and
just before Christmas, my mom went out with her colleagues at work for
a seasonal party, planning to first have a meal, then on to a night
club. As usual on such occasions (which were rare at that time) I was
expected to babysit. I didn’t object to this because it was only
occasionally that I could have a good wanking session without fear of
being disturbed. Unfortunately my sister was particularly fractious
that night, and was late settling down to sleep. Eventually, though, I
got out my favourite soft porn glossies, got myself comfortable beside
the fire, and began to leaf through them.
The stories and letters always got me much hotter than the
pictures, and I greedily read through some of these items, the graphic
descriptions of sex acts feeding my lust as I took my hardening cock
from my pants. Slowly I stroked myself in the time honoured manner and
I felt my hormones start to stir in response to the stimulation of my
penis. I was well on the way to a satisfying ejaculation when suddenly
I heard a key in the lock. In a flat panic, I stuffed my rigid cock
back into my trousers, zipped my fly and stuffed the magazines beneath
the dashion of a chair. Fortunately I had left the T.V. on and I
hastily sat in the armchair and pretended to be engrossed in the news.
No sooner had I sat down than in came Mom. taking off her coat as she
entered. “What are you doing back so early?” I asked, trying to sound
disinterested. ” I thought you were partying.”
Mom shook her head. “No, I decided not to go on to the club.
The evening was a bit of a flop, really.” She paused, and gave me a
searching look.
She had noticed something strained in my manner, and I very
clearly saw the penny drop as her eyes flickered to my crotch and then
quickly away in embarrassment. We both reddened. She knew I knew she
knew… There was silence while we both groped for something innocuous
to say. I got to my feet. “I was just going to make some hot chocolate
then go to bed,” I stammered. “Would you like some?”
She clutched at this straw gratefully. “Yes, that would be
lovely.” She could not look me in the face.
I fled to the kitchen, cursing myself for a fool,and wondering
how I would ever get over this mortification. But there was more of
the same to come, because when I returned to the living room, to my
horror Mom was sitting reading one of the mags I had hurriedly stashed
beneath the chair. I stood rooted to the spot, two cups of chocolate
in my hands.
“Do you often read these things?” she asked in a quiet voice,
looking up at me.
“Er, no, not really. Jason loaned it to me. It’s his really. I
only borrowed it out of curiosity.”
We both knew differently. Mom gave me another quizzical,
slightly amused look. There was no way she was buying that story.
She sat in silence, leafing slowly through the pages while I
gulped down my drink. When I had finished, I made an excuse of being
tired and retreated to bed. Mom simply nodded as I left, still slowly
turning the pages.
I lay awake for an hour or so, desperately seeking a way out
of the hole I had dug myself into, then drifted off to sleep.
The next thing I knew, I was disturbed by something softly
brushing across my chest. Instantly I was wide awake as I saw and felt
my mother climbing into my bed, completely naked, straddling my body
as I lay on my back.The yellow street light outside my window
displayed her lovely face and figure clearly as she lay down on top of
me, leaning forward, her gorgeous tits now pressing against my chest.
She covered my mouth with her lips and kissed me, at first gently, but
then gradually harder.She inserted her tongue between my lips, into my
mouth, licking and flicking it against mine, exploring and probing. I
could feel the heat coming from her as if she had an internal fire
burning and that beautiful sexy scent of her aroused cunt pervaded the
air.My cock stiffened rapidly as I realised what was happening. She
pulled away slightly and I could feel her trembling against me, partly
with nervousness, partly with desire. I guessed she had already given
herself a head start with those clever fingers before awakening me.
She began rubbing her wet vulva up and down my thigh.
I opened my mouth to speak, but quickly she put her index
finger over my lips. Her voice was a nervous, hoarse whisper. “Sshh
honey… just you lie quietly. Mommy just wants to borrow something
for a while. This here is what I want. You don’t mind if I borrow your
penis for a few minutes, do you, Jimmy?… Please?… ” In my
astonishment I shook my head, but the question was meant rhetorically.
Mom had already grasped my rock hard member, deftly placed it against
her sopping cunt lips, and with a deep shuddering moan, sunk down upon
it to its full length. She was now lying with her full weight on top
of me and we hugged each other close. Nothing in my fevered imaginings
prepared me for this sensation as I felt my cock buried for the first
time in a woman’s innermost place. That warm, wet, beautiful slickness
was wrapped around me, gripping my whole shaft, and I felt a surge of
indescribable love for this woman whom I had known all my life, yet
not really known at all.
Mom had her eyes closed, with a look of utter bliss on her
face.She was breathing hard through moist parted lips, obviously
relishing the feeling of my cock deep inside her as much as I was. She
lay perfectly still for perhaps thirty seconds in this way, then she
raised herself up, supporting her upper body on her hands as she began
to move slowly, slowly up and down upon me. I could feel her gorgeous
cunt sliding along the length of my shaft as she raised herself to the
point where it almost slipped out, then sank down on it again til our
pubes met and she had the whole thing inside her once more. Her head
was bowed, that beautiful mane of coppery hair cascading forward, her
eyes closed, concentrating on maximising her own and my pleasure as
she moved my bursting cock in and out of her love tunnel. Her sweet,
perfectly shaped breasts were swaying above my chest, jiggling with
her to and fro motion, and I ached to cup them, suckle on those hard,
inviting nipples, but I dared not break the mood. She began talking
while she rode my cock in this fashion, her words breathy gasps, half
to herself, synchronised with the rising and falling of her pelvis.
“Ohh, Jim,that feels so good… You have no idea… That is so
lovely… You wanted this too, didn’t you honey?… Mmmmmmmmmm… Feel
good for you too,baby?… Mommy’s pussy feel nice?… Is she wet
enough for you?…
That was it! I couldn’t stand any more of that. My cock had
felt as if it would explode right from the start, and at these words I
came in torrents.
White hot pulsations of bliss washed over me as I shot my
semen deep into my mother’s eagerly receptive cunt hole.Spurt after
spurt I felt burst from me until I thought I would never stop coming.
Never had I had such an intense orgasm. I thrust upwards into my
mothers grasping vagina in my ecstasy, every muscle in my body
straining, and involuntarily groaned aloud, pumping and pumping as I
drained myself dry.
Feeling me shooting my sperm into her depths, my mother began
to lose control. Her pelvic thrusts became more rapid, her greedy cunt
gripping and milking me, demanding more.Our combined juices seeped out
around my shaft as she rode it harder and faster, driving my still
hard tool deep inside herself, using my penis to bring her towards her
own release, which I sensed was very close.
Oh, baby… now you’ve done it!… look at what… you’ve done
to me… can’t stop now… oooohhhh!… stay hard for me, baby… stay
hard… just a minute more… let me come… all over… that
lovely… cock… oooohhhh!… feels so good… let me have… that…
hard cock… please… oooohhhh!… feel it… starting… baby?…
feel it?… oh, Jim!… get it up me!!… ohmigod!… ohmigod!…
aaaahhhh!… I’m… coming… now… I’M COMINNNNNG!!!
Again her pelvic movements changed as I felt her release
overtake her and her hungry vaginal muscles gripped my now softening
shaft in wave after rippling wave. She ground her pubic mound hard
against mine and rubbed rapidly up and down against it, stimulating
her clitoris and taking her completely over the edge. I could feel her
pubic hair scratching against me to this frantic spastic rhythm. It
felt as though her pussy was literally eating, gobbling my penis.
Eventually the spasms of delight subsided and she sank down,
breathless and bathed in sweat, against my chest. My penis was soft,
but still lay in that lovely warm haven of her vagina while our
breathing and heartbeats slowed.
Mom rolled off me after a little while and we lay snuggled
together. She began trembling violently, and suddenly I became aware
that she was sobbing.
“Oh, Jim I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean to do
that… It’s been so long since your Dad… I’m so sorry… ”
Horrified, I tried to console her. I held her close, told her
that I had wanted her as much as she had wanted me. I blurted out the
whole story of how I had come home early that day, and how I had been
longing for her ever since. At my confession her tears slowed and
stopped, and as I finished, Mom held my face between her two hands,
looked hard into my eyes for several seconds then kissed my face in
little pecks all over. Soon we found each others’ lips and hungrily
tongued each other once more. Then suddenly I was back inside
her,lying side by side, and we were thrusting at each other like wild
animals, grunting, whimpering and moaning, desperate in our need for
orgasm. There was a wet slap-slapping noise as I pounded at her and
she at me until in a quivering heap, we came again, clutching tight to
one another til the wave swept over and we were quiet once more.
We were both exhausted, and I slipped quickly into a sound
sleep. When I awoke Mom had already left the bed. Her smell was on me
and I luxuriated in it for a little while before I too got up.
I was very nervous of her reaction to the previous night, but
the instant I saw her my fears were put to rest. She was bouncier and
chirpier than she had been in a long time, and though not a word was
spoken about our escapade, her conspiratorial smile and lingering
glance into my eyes told me all I needed to know.
That day I walked on air. I was filled with a deep love, and
happier than I had ever been. I was also filled with anticipation for
what might happen that night…