Mum, Bev and I

We settled back against the couch again and watched Bev finish herself off with her vibrator as my juices dripped off Mum's tits on to her stomach.

We washed up the dinner things together, Mum washing and Bev and I drying. The light was brighter here, and amid the clatter of crockery, my cock and balls hanging free, I enjoyed watching how Mum's naked pendulous breasts swung as she moved, and the tautness of Bev's buttocks, framed by the suspender belt.

"Shall we have afters?" Mum asked.

"Mmm, yes please," I replied with exaggerated enthusiasm, and we laughed.

"That can come later," Mum said. "For now it's fruit mousse."

We sat and ate our dessert at the table in the small dining area, then drank some more wine. Bev asked Mum and I if we were OK, clearly concerned whether we felt guilty about what we had done.

"No, I'm fine," I said. "It's a special occasion and we're all adults. How about you, Mum?"

"Yes, me too," she replied.

"So bad yet so good," I said.

After we had finished our food and drink, Mum suggested we take a shower.

Bev and Mum went straight to the bathroom, but I made a detour across the lounge, which was now strewn with clothing and toys, to collect Bev's tube of lubricant from her bag and a packet of condoms from my jacket pocket. When I got to the bathroom, Mum had switched on the shower and Bev had removed her bra and was sliding her stockings down. The bathroom was small and white-tiled, and filled with the sound of splashing water. There was hardly room for the three of us. Through the steam I admired Bev's round lightly tanned buttocks again, my cock semi-erect with expectation. It was clear from what she had said and the way she had played with her vibrator that she genuinely enjoyed anal sex, and I was not about to miss this opportunity. I had fucked Anne that way a couple of times when we lived together, but she wasn't too enthusiastic about it, and I felt she was just doing it to please me, so it never became a regular part of our lovemaking. I gave Bev a questioning glance and pointed to the tube of lubricant. She nodded firmly; there was no need to say a word. She bent over, resting her hands on the toilet seat, and I parted her firm little buttocks and gently applied the jelly to the pink rosebud between them. I slid a condom on to my prick, which was now fully hard, positioned its engorged purple head at the entrance to Bev's little arsehole, and gently eased it forward. The sensation of her muscles gripping the most sensitive area of my cock was exquisite. I slowly pushed it all the way into the tight cavern of her arse. At first my thrusts were tentative, as I was frightened of hurting her, but I guess she had had several men inside there, and told me I could go a lot harder. Soon I was fucking her nearly as hard as I would have from the front, and she shouted, "Harder, harder, go on, do me harder!" her hand working between her legs. From the corner of my eye I could see Mum frigging herself with her finger as she showered. I would soon have come, but Bev climaxed very quickly, so I slipped out of her, my cock still rigid, pushed my finger deep inside her arse and left it there for a moment before I removed the condom. Bev then sat on the toilet seat to recuperate and I got into the shower, my prick jutting out before me. Mum transferred her attentions from her genitals to mine, caressing and soaping my cock and balls, while I occupied myself in lathering her heavy breasts. I would have spunked off in her hand, but I had just enough self-control to reach for another condom and slip it on. Gripping a breast in each hand I entered Mum's vagina almost as gently as I had entered Bev's back passage. Again I felt the exquisite sensation of my shaft entering a woman's body. I looked down to watch it enter her all the way. Bev reached behind me and cupped my balls, and with the pressure of her delicate hands their contents spurted out from the engorged dome of my cock, as the tip pressed against my mother's womb.

After we had all showered, we dried each other, then went back into the lounge and drank coffee. The room was warm enough for us to remain naked, and we sat on the thick carpet, leaning against the couch, myself in the middle, and chatted contentedly. After half an hour or so I felt I had enough left for one more cum, and slowly began to play with myself. Mum and Bev retrieved their vibrators, finishing before I did. Watching me masturbate, Bev smiled and said, "You're now an honorary member of the Ladies Circle."

"Except you're not a lady, are you darling?" Mum added, replacing my fingers with her own. She rubbed the head of my cock with short, fast movements and said, "I'm proud my son's grown up to be so strong and healthy," while Bev caressed my balls and the base of my cock. Mum's delicate but strong fingers moved faster still, and my back arched as I came again, the ladies watching fascinated as the cream spurted from my engorged shaft.

We had another coffee. Bev, being a psychologist, was concerned that we might experience a guilt reaction because of this evening. She said that the easiest way to deal with this was, as she put it, to make a 'joint spoken commitment' together, that we were not to feel guilty. "Nobody has suffered after all," she said, "Quite the contrary, in fact." So we each formally promised that we would not feel guilty, and although it was a very simple psychological tactic, it worked for me and Mum. Bev also advised Mum and I not to have full sex together again, or to have it only very infrequently, although of course we must do as we please. The reason, she explained, was that what the 'emotional dynamic' of intercourse was very different from that of masturbating together, either solo or mutually. She explained that the mother-son bond was one of unreserved love and could successfully incorporate helping each other relieve our tensions, as long as it was done as an act of pure giving. However, it could not incorporate intercourse without there being a risk of emotional damage. Mum and I understood intuitively what she meant, and we promised each other we would follow her advice, as we have done.

Since that evening four years ago, I have got married and become a father of two young children. Bev returned to the States a couple of years later to continue her career, and the Ladies Group was discontinued. Mum is fifty-two now. She has gained a little weight around the waist and buttocks, but still looks fabulous. She hasn't got married again, and says she enjoys her independence too much to have a serious relationship. Her massage and Shiatsu business is doing well.

After that evening Mum and I continued to visit each other two or three times a week. Sometimes we would just eat, chat or watch TV, other times we would masturbate. We made it a rule that no speeches or explanations were necessary and that I would just get my cock out any time I felt the need, and she would also pleasure herself whenever she wanted. Mum fully understands that a man needs to empty his balls frequently and is not in any way embarrassed by attending to her needs in my presence. We allow ourselves all forms of touching, but have followed Bev's advice to avoid penetration. Sometimes, if we are at my flat, I'll stroke myself while watching a video and Mum will finish me off when she sees I am close to coming. Knowing what I like, she will offer me one of her breasts to shoot over, and I'll lay my cock against one of those soft mounds and deposit a pearly stream over it. Other times I'll spill my seed over or between her ample arse cheeks (she doesn't mind me fingering her arse as I tug at my cock, but that's as far as we go). If we're at her flat she'll sometimes give me a massage, especially if I have had a hard day at work, and finish with hand relief. Mum enjoys hearing stories when she masturbates, so I tell her what I have done with girlfriends or invent fantasies while I rub her or she rubs herself. Sometimes she plays with one of the vibrators I've bought her for her birthday or Christmas. (It's easy buying her presents). Sometimes we don't bother with erotic stimuli, but just watch TV or chat about everyday things as we play with ourselves or each other, Mum offering me her tits or arse when I'm about to come.

This all stopped for a while after I met Jan, my wife, but since the children were born Jan and I have had less opportunity for sex, so now I visit Mum once a week, usually on a Thursday, and we relieve each other's tensions. I still worry about her, but Mum assures me she's happy as long as I am. I'd love to be more open with my wife, but I could hardly have told her about Mum when we first started going together and it would be virtually impossible to tell her now without causing huge upset.