Panic

Someone said that to live a good life, the most important thing was to 'Know yourself.' Even though I wasn't twenty yet, I knew myself enough to know that I wanted and needed her.

I found her curled up in the den, listening to a blues singer telling a thousand year old story, told thousands of times before. I approached her and stroked her hair. She looked up at me in anticipation of my desire.

She stood and came into my arms. We kissed, and then I held her until she exhaled a long relaxed sigh. She said, "I'm safe when you hold me like this Danny...we're together, and I'm not afraid."

For most people, saying that they felt safe in another person's arms might just be a nice thing to say, but for my mother it would have been unimaginable for her to utter those words only six months earlier. Six months that took two minutes and a life-altering eternity to pass. Up until then, we'd spoke and touched and acted as most mothers and sons did, except when the panic came, and struck the terror into her. There was never any warning, a thought perhaps, a sound, a flicker of light, and then the sweats, the shaking, the fear, and the tears.

On an ordinary day, a simple question was a spark that lit my old life on fire and turned it to ash. I'd said, "Mom, you look strange, are you okay?"

"Oh sure, honey. It's...you know...'That time.' I just have some cramps and I'm sore and...jeez Danny, why am I going on, you don't have to hear about all this."

"Mom, it's not such a big deal to talk about your period, is it?"

"I guess not," she laughed. "I guess I'm still stuck in the Middle Ages about that kind of stuff. I'll tell you though, when I get like this, I feel uncomfortable in my own skin. It just seems to be getting worse; my breasts are so sore, I just feel like a wreck."

That's when I said something you could say to almost anyone, but not my mother. "Why don't you let me take you to a doctor; he could give you something and..." That's when I knew I'd made a mistake. The symptoms came quickly; just the thought of leaving the house and sitting in a doctor's office set her off. Her medication wasn't helping much. She'd been going out less and less over the years and I couldn't remember the last time she went out of the house. I could see the sweat on her face, I could hear the heavy breathing, and I could feel the darkness that enveloped her.

I put her in my arms and said, "It's all right; you don't have to do anything you don't want to." My hand made slow wide circles on her back and she calmed a bit. I told her to rest on the couch and she went onto her stomach. I continued the stroking. Her sweater had come up, exposing the small of her back. I put my hand on it and continued the petting up under the sweater to her shoulder blades. In ten minutes she was quiet and breathing easily; I couldn't tell if she was asleep.

To this day I don't know what possessed me to do what I did. Sure, I'd always liked looking at my mom's body, because her curves were in those places your hands just wanted to go to, but I never expected to act on it. I know that if I'd thought about it I wouldn't have done it, but I just acted.

My two practiced fingers just unsnapped her bra. She didn't move or say anything and I continued stroking her smooth skin. In the minutes that passed, my heart drummed a beat to accompany my racing thoughts. As if it was the most commonplace thing for a son to do, I ran my hand over my mother's ass and down her legs to her calves. I was in the throes of desire, and reason had taken a distant second place. Her breathing was deep, but even.

I massaged her that way for a while, unmistakably caressing the fleshy curve on my hand's journey, up and down the length of her body. I urged her over and she turned with a sigh. She wasn't asleep. I repeated the soothing strokes beginning at her legs and over her thighs. I crossed her belly and when I got to her waist, I slipped my hand under the thin sweater. Her eyes stayed closed.

I stroked and fondled her swollen breasts for a long time. Her body was young enough for them to still have a girlish spring to them. They felt full and the nipples became erect when my palms passed over them. By then, my heart was pounding so hard you could have heard it in the next room. I drew my mother's nipples through my fingers, savoring the stiff resistance. When I ran my fingertips over her skin, it was warm and velvety. She hardly moved, but I could tell how sensitive they were by the sounds emanating from her throat.

I wanted to look at her breasts and I wanted to watch as I fondled them. At that point, my erection was directing me. With my wrists, I forced the sweater to slide up and bare the full globes. They looked big on her slim body, and they looked beautiful in my hands. A few fine bluish veins made them look even more sensuous. I bent over and took one of her nipples into my mouth. I drew on it and kept it warm with my tongue. Before I got to second one, she was whimpering and her hand was in my hair.

As I suckled on the elongated tips of my mother's breasts she said, "I wanted to do it for you baby, they wouldn't let me...they wouldn't let me." I had no idea what she was talking about, or whom 'they' were. Her sounds got higher pitched as I drew more of her tit into my mouth. It only added to the surrealism of the moment when all at once she took a breath, raised her hips, and put her hand between her legs. The pants she wore were thin enough to allow her fingers to stimulate her pussy and she began coming almost immediately. The "Oh...Oh...Oh..." that she kept repeating were more whimpers than words. I kissed her, and my mother kissed me back.

When she opened her eyes, her face was crimson. She sat up and said, "Oh my God, what's wrong with me? I'm sorry Danny, I shouldn't have let you...nobody's touched me like that for so long...Danny forgive me...I'm so ashamed."

I put my arms around her and said, "You have nothing to be ashamed of, if it's anybody's fault, it's mine. You felt so good to me, and when the panic passed and you calmed down, I...mom, all that happened was that it made you better, and that's nobody's fault...that's the best thing that could happen."

The few tears stopped and she stayed on my neck without looking at me. "Thank you baby; you're so sweet...I'm glad you're here."

That was the door that opened to allow similar holdings and touchings over the coming weeks. That was what developed into 'Medicine' for mom, and the source of my greatest pleasure up to that point. We had our 'code words' about her feeling scared, or not feeling well, and we would go into her bedroom to make it better, for both of us. Comforting her brought comfort to me.

Not that I wouldn't have welcomed it, but it was okay that she was reluctant to let me touch her between her legs, and reluctant to touch me when I gave her thinly veiled opportunities. I think at that point, we both probably knew that the sexual stimulation that we were both experiencing would inevitably progress.

What also progressed was the level of intimacy we shared. Mom told me about her experience of a sheltered childhood. I knew that her mother had died when she was very young, but I had never heard the details. They were horrific. That didn't prevent her father from repeating them to her time and time again in what mom called, 'His loud warning voice.' "You know honey," she said, "It seemed like he told me the story every day."

We sat on the couch, I held her hand, and she told me what had happened. She said, "I was only two and my mother was out shopping. It was winter, and it got dark early. In the corner of the parking lot, two men waited. Maybe my mother resisted and maybe she didn't, all we know is that they beat her with a hammer, for a hundred dollars and some credit cards. My father said he couldn't recognize her face when he had to identify her. That hammer forged the rest of my life."

"I'm sorry mom," I said. I stroked her hair and gave her a kiss on the cheek. She gave me a weak smile before continuing.

"My father hardly ever let me leave the house and he never stopped telling me how dangerous it was 'Out there.' I know that he loved me and he wanted to protect me, and unfortunately, he had enough money for home schooling and for Lucia, who was always with me, so I ended up in the house most of the time. I was so lonely baby, I think I cried every night."

I stroked her hair and face and said, "I'm sorry mom." The sadness colored her words.

"You didn't really know your grandfather, he meant well, but there wasn't much anyone could tell him, and he had enough money to always get his way. He had enough money for a lot of things. I didn't realize that this house is what most people would call a mansion, until I was older. I guess I thought every home had huge fireplaces, pools, gyms, and media rooms. And I guess I thought people had enough money, because after he died, the check from the lawyers came every month."

Hearing her open up led me to ask about the topic I could hardly get her to say a word about. "Mom, what about my father, all you ever say is that his name was Paul, he was a nice man and he died after you got married. But I haven't believed that for a long time, that's not what happened is it?" It had always upset her whenever she had started to tell me anything about him.

"No baby, that wasn't what happened...oh God, all right, I'll just tell you and get it over with." She hesitated and then said, "We were never married...I got pregnant right in this house. That was what sent my father over the edge I guess, because after all he did to protect me, it still happened. I didn't meet many boys and all my ideas came from books and TV, and I guess it was like one of those bad TV shows...he was a carpenter, a handyman...Paul who was nice to me...and I liked him."

Her mood shifted and she said as if it were only a matter of fact, "I was very young and when I realized I was pregnant, I had to tell Lucia...and she told my father. They sent him away...he never even knew..."

Then she smiled at me. "I had you right here in this house...and when you were three, daddy died, and then it was just you, me, and Lucia, until six years ago when she had to go back to her family in Italy...she loved you a lot...you can still hear it in her letters, can't you honey?"

"Sure mom, I still miss her."

"I should have told you all this before sweetie, but I was ashamed...it was all such a mess."

"Mom, you never have to be ashamed of anything you do, you're a terrific loving person."

She put her arms around my neck and said, "Thank you baby...can we talk more later? Just hold me for a little while. " I held her and she settled into my arms. When I began touching her, she sighed and leaned back into the couch pillows. When I kissed down her belly she didn't stop me from kissing her on her mound. I lifted her skirt. I wasn't sure how much of the wetness on her panties was from my mouth above or her pussy below, but I waited until she was writhing before attempting to take them off.

When she lifted her hips to help me, the sheer lavender nylon quickly rolled into a small ball before I tossed it on the floor. The fragrance of her humid opening drew me. The rustle of her bush crinkled in my ears as my tongue found the tender pink slit and worked its way in. I delighted in my first taste of her juice and she almost twisted away from me in reaction to the contact I made with her clit.

I brought her back with my hands on her hips and licked the slippery nub until it was shiny with my saliva and her own moisture. I did have some experience, but I learned quickly by her reactions how sensitive and primed for pleasure her swelling clit was. I took her breasts firmly in both hands and sucked the whole area between her legs into my mouth. I used my tongue to circle and then massage the erected flesh. I was taking great pleasure in pleasuring her. Before I could decide what to do next, my mother started coming.

It was all so amazing to me, I was eating my mother's pussy and she was making the most beautiful noises of satisfaction I had ever heard. She kept gyrating as she came and I tried to keep my mouth on her clit so I could lick it until she finished. I was hard enough to make me think that I would break through the zipper.

She opened her eyes and said, "God, my whole body still feels like electricity is going through it...I..." She had recovered enough to notice my erection bulging in my pants and she said, "Oh sweetie, you're all...I...do you want me to...do something?"

I took her hand and said, "Yes mom, come with me." I led her to the bedroom and she sat on the bed with her back against the headboard. I unfastened my pants and I stood on the bed and brought the stiff rod near her lips. She looked up and me and said, "Do you want me to...?" There wasn't much ambiguity about what I wanted, but I was patient.

I held her face and said, "Yes mom, I want you to take me in your mouth." I was awed at how she sat there looking up at me, waiting, as her son stood before her, getting harder while she watched. She closed her eyes. I was so hard for her, my cock almost pointed to the ceiling. I pushed it down to the level of her lips.

She was waiting. She didn't come for my cock, so I brought the thickened flesh to her lips. It looked too big for the delicate mouth that typified her fine features. When the swollen head made contact with her lips, she opened her mouth and I entered, touching the inside of her mouth. She closed her lips around the wide mass. I pushed some of my length in and out and I said softly, "Suck me mom, suck me." She began sucking.

What my mother lacked in experience, she made up in enthusiasm. She was kissing and sucking at the same time and she stayed mainly on and around the engorged head. She tentatively placed her hand around the shaft and I put my hand over hers and moved it up and down along the shaft. It didn't take long before she was into it. Experience is good, but how bad can inexperience be when it's your mother sucking on your cock?

I made noises and gave her words of encouragement and directed her to use her tongue and lips and mouth until I thought it couldn't feel any better. And then I wanted to fuck her. I pulled my cock from her mouth and pulled her down to a position where she could take me inside her. Her noises were little cries. I opened her legs and brought my cock to the entrance of her pussy. I was so busy getting set to take her that I hadn't even looked up. When I did I wasn't happy.

My cock had just spread her pussy lips when I saw the look on her face. Her eyes were wide and the sweat on her face wasn't perspiration. She was breathing hard and making the noises that always meant one thing, panic. I pulled out, even though it was the last thing I wanted to do. I said, "What is it mom, did I hurt you?"

She shook her head no, but she was having trouble catching her breath. She finally managed to say, "I'm sorry baby, I don't know, I got scared and everything flashed; you're my son, and what if I get pregnant and how could I let you be in me like that, oh God, what kind of mother am I?"

"You're a loving mother." I said as I held her shaking frame. "And I wouldn't have come inside you, but it's okay mom, I don't want you to do anything you don't want to."

When she calmed, she said, "Oh honey I'm sorry..." We kissed for a while and I could feel her sexual excitement building. She said, "I still want to make you feel good...let me..." She leaned over and put some the semi-erect flesh that lay on my leg into her mouth. It didn't stay semi-erect for long. Long is what it got and she took the bulging meat as far as she could. There was too much for her and she gagged for a second. When she recovered, she settled into licking and sucking the head and the top of my shaft. I took her hand and placed it on my balls. She cupped and massaged them instinctively as her mouth worked toward the release I could feel building.

My mother looked up at me for a moment with her eyes wide to see what effect her sucking was having on me, it didn't take long for her to realize that having my cock in her mouth was driving me crazy. She closed her eyes and started bobbing harder and faster.

She was making wet noises as my thick flesh slid over and around her tongue, and I could feel my whole body stiffen in anticipation of releasing the big buildup of cum she had created with her sucking

I thought of pulling out before letting go, but the thought that kept going through my head was too intoxicating. The words, 'I'm going to come in my mother's mouth...' kept playing over and over in my head until I couldn't hold it any longer. The only warning I could give her was the first two words of "Mom, I'm...coming."

Well, some of it went into her mouth. She was stunned by the force and volume. She pulled back and it fired onto her, and everything around. I still needed to finish and I took her hand from my balls and placed it on the shaft and we stroked and each volley fired off. When the final spasms of cum released, she kept rubbing, a bit harder than necessary, and I held her hand still after exhaling.

"I'm sorry baby, I didn't know how..."

When I caught my breath I said, "Mom, it's fine...it's more than fine; it felt terrific. Thank you for making me feel so good." I kissed her and she stayed in my arms. Some of my cum was in her hair, some of it was on her breasts, and the rest, well, I guess inexperience can be messy sometimes.

We did a lot of touching and had oral sex a few times during the next few weeks before I chanced any escalation. I wanted her to get out of the house for a change, so I said, "Mom, will you take a ride with me, you've never even been in the new car."

She said, "Honey I don't know, it's almost dark, and I was just about to make dinner."

I came up to her and kissed her neck, "Come on mom, just a short ride, do it for me."

I kissed her and she took a deep breath and said, "You know honey, I'm more worried about having a panic attack out there than I am of going."

"Mom, I'll be with you, whatever happens, I'll be with you."

She gave me a kiss and said, "Okay baby, but only for a little bit."

I couldn't remember the last time she went out. When we got in the car, I could see the agitation beginning to surface. I put my arm out and said, "Come here." She came close and with my arm around her I started driving. I took the street that led to the lake and said, "Look at those trees mom, how long has it been you've seen them?"

"A long time baby, they are beautiful." I idly let my hand fall on her breast and stroked it between my thumb and fingers. She looked at me and smiled and I felt her nipple stiffen through the sheer bra that she wore. There was no longer any shame when we touched and she put her hand over mine as I gently stroked her breast.

When we got to lake, the sun had just set and we parked in a small clearing. The colors of that golden hour mirrored off the lake and she said, "It's so beautiful, it's amazing."

We looked at the lake for a long while in silence, and when the colors faded, we began kissing. Our tongues played and I reached under her bra to free her breasts. Their fullness filled my hand and the swelling in my pants became evident. The kissing was warm and sweet and satisfying. She stopped and held me and said, "Tell me that you love me."

I realized that I felt it, but hardly ever told her. I also realized that it wasn't just sex that was driving me, I'd always wanted to be with someone that would share the kind of love that was total, and a passion that would transcend all barriers. And now I knew that I wanted it to be her. I said in her ear, "I love you very much, I love you, I love you, I love you."