Carol and John, Illicit Lovers

Many thanks, once again, to tangentjoker who edited this story.

This story is fiction. It is about an incestuous relationship. All the characters are aged eighteen or older.

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How could I get into my mother's pants? To fuck her. To lie on her body, shoving my cock into her pussy as she cried out in lustful joy. At the age of eighteen, it was my constant fantasy. My tall, skinny, flat chested mother had somehow become a sex symbol to me; the vision that I saw in my fantasies. My jerk off dream girl.

I have no idea why I lusted after this homely, mature woman, in her forties. True, there was the intimacy of living in the same home. Mother and son, alone together. Maybe it was Mom's scent that turned me on. Maybe it was the fact that she was a loving mother who did her best for me. It could be that hers was the only live pussy I had ever seen. The nubile girls I went to school with had little attraction for me. Only my skinny mother had any appeal.

Mom had divorced my father when I was still a toddler. I did see him often, but not as much as when I was younger. He had remarried and had other responsibilities. In his defense, I will say that he took as much interest in me as he could, under the circumstances. We got along quite well.

My mother, Carol, was a very friendly woman. One of her good points was a beautiful smile. One that would light up her face. Even with that smile, she was not an attractive woman. She stood six feet, her arms and legs were stringy muscle. Totally titless, she could not be called a sexy woman. Her face didn't help any. It was plain, even homely. Her hair was mousy. She cut it square at chin level.

Mom rarely had a date. Very few of them resulted in repeats. She did have a few women friends. They would shop together and get together for bridge. Mom's mother was a frequent visitor. Her father had died a couple of years before this story starts.

Mom worked at a full time job as a bank officer. She did well financially. We never hurt for money. She dressed in business suits, usually pantsuits. She said her legs were not suited to skirts. But she would wear one occasionally, sometimes with nylons. It was always a turn-on for me when she did. Despite the fact that it wasn't an attractive sight.

I knew more about my mother than she thought. I knew she had a collection of vibrators. I knew she didn't trim the hair on her pussy and that she had a wild, dark bush. I knew she had large dark areolas and prominent nipples. I knew how she looked naked. I had peeked.

Her mother, Grandma, was a different woman than her daughter. In her early sixties, she was quite tall also, about 5'10". She was well built and shapely. With nice tits, slim waist and a pretty face. I never had sexual dreams about Grandma. Well, that's not quite true. A couple of times, I had jerk-off fantasies about her and Mom and I as a threesome.

As far as I knew, Grandma was not dating any men. At least, I never heard her mention it. Shortly after her husband had passed away, she had retired. She lived not far from us in a comfortable house.

My name is John. I'm six feet and weigh about 170. Slim, but not skinny. I'm not bad in the looks department, and I'm well endowed. At least I think I am. The only reference I had was seeing other guys in the shower after gym. We were always flaccid, so it was hard to tell. I checked my measurements against some of the stories I read. I measured up pretty good. But I couldn't be sure since I was reading fiction. At any rate, I was pretty sure that I was average or better.

In school I did well scholastically, but not socially. Although I am pretty well built, I don't have much interest in sports. I am definitely not a team player. I am basically a loner, and very shy, too. The girls in my class were mostly interested in jocks. I was too shy to overcome that disadvantage.

I was enrolled in a local junior college for the fall. I was not sure what I wanted to do with my life. I thought I would go to school locally until I had decided. My mother approved of my choice. She would be happy to have me at home for another year or two.

So at the age of eighteen, having just finished high school, I was still a virgin. My mother, and my grandmother too, were worried about the fact that I had so few dates. Thinking back, I realize that Mom and Grandma were the only women that I felt relaxed with.

Perhaps it was my shyness that caused me to obsess about my mother. To jerk off to fantasies about her every night. To make a, carefully hidden, spy hole so I could watch her in the bath. To sneak into her room to look through her drawers. To go through the hamper for her soiled panties; to inhale the aroma of her fragrant pussy.

I read stories on a site I had found on the internet "Literotica." I was hoping to find a way, but nothing seemed quite right. I imagined ways to make her my lover. I dreamt of sneaking into her room while she slept and tying her hands to the headboard, not her legs though. I wanted to feel them clasping me as I pumped my hard cock into her.

I imagined her coming to me asking me to be her lover. I thought about letting her catch me masturbating. I planned to catch her masturbating, shoving her vibrator into her hot pussy.

I dreamt of fucking her, of eating her. Of her cries of, "Fuck me." Of my face buried in her aromatic cunt licking and sucking at her clit.

I dreamt of her kneeling in front of me, my cock in her wet mouth as she looked up at me adoringly.

But it was all dreams.

I didn't have a summer job, so I was home most days when Mom was at work. I would read or play games on my computer. I'd check the porn sites, too. I didn't really care for the videos. I much preferred to read stories. My imagination would put my mother into them, especially the incest tales.

I did a lot of the housework, too. I thought to give my mother a break since I wasn't doing anything. I would also mow Grandma's lawn for her every week and do any yard work she needed done.

Grandma always invited me in, afterwards, for a cold drink and to rest up. We talked about a lot of things. Current events, my future, Mom; Grandma said she wished Mom would date more. She said on one occasion, "She needs a man."

"I'd love to be that man, if I could." I thought.

It was overhearing a conversation between Mom and Grandma that gave me the inspiration I needed.

It was a Saturday afternoon. They were sitting in the kitchen talking over coffee. I was upstairs in my bedroom playing on my computer. Bored, I decided to read for a while. I found that I had left my book downstairs in the living room. I started to go for it.

At the top of the stairs, I heard my grandmother say, "If he was my son I'd have had him in bed long ago."

"Oh, Mom," It was my mother's voice replying. "That wouldn't be right. Even if I wanted to."

"It would be just what you both need." Grandma's voice again. "You said it yourself. You need a man. There's one right here for you; and he needs a woman to teach him. All he needs is a little self-confidence."

"He does excite me," Mom said. Her voice was soft. I could just make out what she said.

"Make yourself available to him," Grandma told her. "If you don't, I may try him out myself."

"Mom, that's awful," my mother's voice again. A pause, then she said, pensively. "I would have long ago, but I don't know how."

"Well, I guess you could start by wearing skimpier clothes around the house." Grandma replied. "Let's go look at what you have in your closet."

That was my cue to get back to my room.

I was sitting at my computer playing a game when the women came upstairs to Mom's room. They were poking through her closet. Every so often, I would hear a giggle from one of them.

They were still in the bedroom when I went downstairs to start dinner for us. I did most of the cooking that summer. With Mom working, and me off all day, it only made sense. Besides, I like to cook. I'm very good at it. Being a chef was one of the fields I was considering.

Mom came downstairs wearing a dress; rare for her. It was a very pretty print, of quite thin material. Her mother followed her.

"Wow, you look good, Mom." I exclaimed. Actually she didn't really. What made her look good, to me, was the idea that it looked like she really did want to make love with me. I couldn't believe it. My cock started to get hard. I turned to the counter to hide the bulge.

"Are you staying for dinner, Grandma?" I asked over my shoulder.

"I don't think so," she replied. "I have a few things to do at home."

Mom told her that she was welcome, but Grandma insisted that she had to go.

She did leave shortly telling my mother, "Keep me updated, Sweetie."

"I will," Mom told her.

I told Mom that dinner would take another half hour or so. She could relax in the living room while I finished up. She said she'd set the table, though, and started bustling about.

She leaned around me a few times to get things from drawers, rubbing against me while doing so. I noticed that she had dabbed on a touch of perfume. My boner got stiffer every time our bodies made contact.

I was able to get the food to the table without making too big a display of my hard-on.

We sat opposite each other and Mom said, "I'm glad you like my dress, John."

"I think it makes you look sexy, Mom." I told her. I blushed then. I wasn't as shy with Mom as with girls I didn't know well, but I wasn't totally at ease talking like that.

Mom blushed too.

"Thank you," she told me.

My hard-on had subsided a little by the time dinner was over. I was able to clear the table without embarrassment. I asked Mom if she wanted to watch a movie or a television show. She opted for a movie.

"You pick one out while I finish up here," I told her. "I'll bring some wine for the show."

I got a couple of glasses and a bottle of wine from the refrigerator. I started to pour but changed my mind. I brought the bottle and glasses to the living room. Mom was seated on the couch. I set the bottle and glasses on the coffee table.

Normally, we each would have sat in a separate chair. Mom patted the couch next to her indicating that I should sit there. We sat with about a foot of space between us. Mom drank her first glass of wine quickly; unusual for her. She poured another and sipped at it a little more slowly.

A thought ran through my mind. "This is starting to seem like one of the incest stories I read. Mother and son on the sofa."

About fifteen minutes into the movie, Mom poured her third glass of wine. I was still on my first.

My mind was racing. Should I make a move tonight? Should I wait a day or two? Mom seemed to be watching the movie. It was a chick flick that I wasn't paying much attention to. When she was halfway through her third glass of wine, I put my arm around her shoulders. She looked at me, seeming startled. After a minute's pause she slid over closer to me.

I hugged her to me and whispered, "Thank you, Mom, for all you've done for me. I love you."

"Thank you, John." She replied. "I love you, too."

"Mom, it's more than the love of a son for his mother. I love you as a woman." Apparently, I had decided to take the plunge even though I hadn't realized it.

Mom looked at me her eyes big.

"You do? How long have you felt that way? I'm your mother and a skinny old lady besides." She said all that in a rush.

"I've felt that way for years, Mom. There were lots of times I could hardly control myself." I paused. "I couldn't keep quiet any longer."

Mom's hand was on her mouth in a gesture of shock. "Oh my God." She repeated several times. Finally, almost stuttering she said, "What do you want, John?"

If I hadn't overheard Mom talking to Grandma earlier, I might have been scared off.

As it is, I said, "I want to make love with you. I want to be the man in your life."

"Oh my God," she said again. "Do you really mean it?"

"Yes, Mom," I said. "I really love you."

She kissed me then, hard. She rained more kisses on my face. I finally grabbed a handful of hair to hold her head still for a kiss on the lips. It quickly turned hot with our tongues dancing and twisting with each other.

Mom straddled my lap. Her arms were around me. She was kissing me open mouthed. Hot and wet; lips mashing, tongues dancing. She was rubbing her panty clad pussy on my hard-on. It was still in my pants, but wanting to burst its way out.

My hands were everywhere on her. Her tits, her thighs, the cheeks of her skinny ass.

She pulled back to look at me.

"Take me to bed, John," she told me softly.

We stood, she took my hand. I led her to her bedroom. The only light was the soft glow of a couple of night lights. We stood by the side of her bed and kissed again, more softly this time. I was confused about what to do next. All I really knew was what I had read in the stories I read; or the porn I had watched. I never took the porn videos too seriously though. I always knew they were acting.

"Mom," I said. "I'm new at this."

Mom hugged me then. She sat on the bed and drew me to her.

"I have wanted to make love with you for years," she told me. "I tried to think of ways to let you know, to seduce you. But I'm afraid I'm not very good at seduction. In fact, I didn't know how to go about it."

As she spoke, her fingers were unbuttoning my shirt. She slipped it back off my shoulders and let it drop to the floor. She pulled my t-shirt over my head. She drew me close then for another kiss.

"I'm very nervous," she said. "And I think you are, too. We don't have to be in any hurry, John. Let's just relax and take our time."

I was kind of relieved to hear Mom say she was nervous, too. Strangely, it seemed to calm me. I felt her opening my belt buckle as she spoke.

"I haven't undressed you since you were a little boy," her voice was soft, pensive. She opened my pants and pushed them over my hips letting them drop to my feet for me to step out of. My cock was tenting my boxer shorts as we kissed again.

She pushed my shorts down. They fell to my feet and I kicked them off. I was naked in front of my mother, the object of my desires. My cock was standing, throbbing with lust. Even so I was shaking, my nerves were betraying me. Here was the unknown. The fear of screwing up. I looked at my mother, still in her dress. I wanted to take it off her, to undress her as men did in the stories I read.

I didn't know how. I didn't know how to get her dress off. I felt like crying in my nervous frustration.

Mom reached for my cock, gently stroking it. She stood, as if she had just come to a decision. A decision she had really reached long ago. She shed her dress.

I didn't see how she did it. The dress was around her feet, she stepped out of it. My eyes were on the skimpy panties covering her snatch. One of her few sexy panties. She started to push them off her hips, but hesitated. She took my hands. She brought them to the elastic. For me to take them off her.

My hands were shaking. I pushed the panties down her legs, for her to kick off. My mother stood before me naked, offering herself to me. The wild tangle of her pubic hair before me. A sight that I had only seen before through a peephole. A sight that always aroused me. It was the fulfillment of a years' long dream. She turned to the bed, bending to turn the covers down. Her bare ass before me.

She turned back to me. She had sensed my nervousness earlier. She sensed that it was worse now. Look, I was about to realize a fantasy that had ruled me for several years. The yearning was one thing. The realization of the dream came about in a matter of hours. I was overwhelmed.

Mom sat back on the side of the bed. She drew me to her, to comfort me. To calm me as she would when I was a child. There were no words. None were needed.

When she sensed that I was calmed, a little, she lay back on the bed. She drew me down with her. We lay together, our naked bodies touching.

Somewhere along the line things had changed. She was no longer a woman to be conquered. She was once again a mother to offer comfort to her little boy. She held me tightly. Her hand patted me on the back.

Eventually, I calmed down but I had lost my hard-on. It had deflated. It lay limp and flaccid between my legs. Mom fondled it, trying to bring him back. It didn't help.

"It will be alright," she told me softly. "We'll wait. You'll be fine after a while. If we need to, we'll just sleep together until you're ready."

"Mom," I told her. "I can take care of you. Even if I can't do anything, I can make you feel good."

Mom hugged me tighter, "Thank you, John. That's a very nice thought. Maybe later or tomorrow." She paused. Then with her mouth next to my ear she whispered, "I really want our first time to be with you inside me."

Her words sent a thrill through me. I knew things would be ok. I knew my mother wanted me. That she wanted to fuck me.

She held my naked body. Kissing me once in a while. Light affectionate kisses. I dozed off. It was probably a couple of hours when I wakened. My cock was hard, lying along mom's slit. We were still in each other's arms. My nervousness had abated, to be replaced with a thrill of anticipation.

I think Mom was dozing when I kissed her. Her eyes were closed, she was breathing softly. My kiss woke her. She smiled when she opened her eyes to see me. The smile broadened when she felt my hard cock against her pussy. It was the beautiful smile that lit up her face.

Our kisses got hotter; wet, open mouthed, tongues dancing. My hand on her pussy felt the wetness on her labia. It was new to me. I had never touched a woman's pussy before. It was all new to me, even the hot kisses. My tongue in her mouth, hers in mine.

I sucked and licked at her nipples. I felt them harden between my lips. Without words, my mother urged me on top off her. Her hand on my cock guided me to her cunt. She led me into herself. Into the place I had dreamed of for so long. That wet, warm sanctum, a temple of lust.

Instinct took over as I pushed my cock into her. I heard a gasp as my cock stretched the vagina walls, a moan as I filled her emptiness. I was big for her. Her arms grasped me, her legs, too, held me; holding me close to her as I instinctively pumped my hard cock into her.

It never entered my mind that I was no longer a virgin. What I felt was a sense of completeness. As if I was where I belonged.

My dreams of my mother crying out "fuck me" as she came were not to be. I came far too quickly to give her an orgasm. I pumped my hot cum into her belly. It gushed from me in what seemed like an unending stream.

An orgasm such as I had never experienced. Jerking off, even to images of my mother, was never such a thrill. My entire body was consumed by the electric thrill of cumming, of cumming in my mother's cunt. My every cell aflame with the achievement of my triumph.

Mom held me as I softened. It was only after I was no longer stiff enough to pump my hard cock into her that I realized she hadn't cum. I tried to stammer out an apology. She shushed me.

"It's ok, honey. I expected it," she whispered. "You'll be ready again soon. You'll make me cum, don't worry."

We lay together. I played with her nipples, sucked them and bit them. I kissed her body. I tongued her navel. I did the things I had read about in the incest stories I had read. My hand was on her pussy, my finger slipped into her. I felt her warmth, the wet heat of desire. I found her clit, to rub, to send thrills through her body. I pushed my finger into her. I pushed another in with it. She moaned at the feeling of fullness.

She kissed me hard as she fondled my cock. I could feel him stirring as he reawakened. She held me to her as I sucked at her nipples.

I started to slide down her body, to eat her. Once again she stopped me.