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Click hereI pushed my tongue as far inside as I could, exploring her depths, seeking her stamen, savoring her nectar. She really was a flower—even her taste had the tartness of rose hip tea.
She began to move and moan. As I rubbed the top of her arch, she said between pants, "A little higher...on the outside...my clit."
I knew where she meant but I didn't know that's what it was called. Clit...rhymes with slit, likes to be licked, gives her a fit. I held this tender button between my lips and sucked it while brushing it with my tongue.
"Not too hard. Gentle," she said. I eased up. "Yes...ouooo...now slow," she murmured. Mom stretched her arms back over her head and relaxed into it, wiggling and groaning.
Barely moving my lips and tongue, I pressed around it and glided over it, trying to tune in to what it liked the best, but not wanting to give it to her all at once. Whenever she started to quiver, I'd back off so it would last longer. With my hands I pressed her tummy and rubbed what I could of her bottom beneath her raised thighs.
"Now, dear, put your finger inside me," Diana said.
I shoved my longest digit deep within her.
"Oh good. Now press...on the other side...from where you're sucking. Yes...rub it around."
I pulsed my finger against this spot, and it engorged so that now she was swollen on both sides. With my tongue I continued to encircle her clit, then began whirling around it faster and sucking harder with my lips.
Mom fell apart, collapsing into spasms, voice thundering, body shuddering. All I could do was hold on as her flesh-flower billowed and shook in rippling waves, her loins writhed, and her legs squeezed me tight. Fluid showered out of her underground springs, soaking my hand and chin. She was awash with wetness.
Gradually her storm quieted and her garden grew calm again. Her hand found my head and she twined her fingers in my hair, which was still nestled in her hair. "You're so good to me!" she said.
Licking my lips, I left her bouquet and kissed her thighs. "It's quite amazing down here."
"I'm glad you like it. It likes you."
I came up face to face with her, kissed her upper set of lips, and held her close. Our exertions had smeared her make-up: her cheeks were streaked with blue eye shadow and black mascara. As she saw me examining her, she said, "I bet I'm a wreck." She patted me on the thigh and sat up, her breasts swinging. "Let me redo, and I'll come back for a cuddle."
"I want to see you put on the make-up," I said. She never wore a lot of it, but I was curious about what it was and how she put it on.
Mom wrinkled up her face and shook her head at this outrageous request. "My dear son, you may look at my pussy...but you may NOT look at me putting on my make-up. Never! Don't ask!" From her tone I could tell this was serious business and I'd better not pry any further into this feminine mystery.
- COMMENTS
Anonymous2 months agoA spectacular turn to the story. The first two parts were focussed on the act, with some emotional overtones. Here, the introduction of the ?poetic' man who was instrumental for Tommy's presence turns up, bringing him to an understandable state of uncertainty, jealousy and anger. That he, the semen giver, writes poems in the sky is a faint hint of the impermanence and uncertainty of life. I may have read the story before, but even without that knowledge, one can get a whiff of a far bigger threat to their lives. Mother and son will find their lives threatened. A well thought out twist in the plot. It has all the makings of a thriller. Or perhaps not.
The author has used a medley of words, describing emotions and objects in a smooth harmony of emotive bursts. The piscine description is a wonderful expression of feminine delight. Far from being abhorrent, it is a reminder of the source of much goodness and, most of all, life. Life for Tommy. A life with many joys and adventures. It is sweet confectionary that cannot be replicated. The bush is such a wonderful artifact. Natural, pure and a secretive cave of delights. That Diana understands his jealousy, bringing him back to her fold with a gentle and firm reintroduction to her charms is reminiscent of how a sulking child is straightened out.
His soto voce alter ego conversations is a delight and so is the third person banter between the two. The tinge of jealousy expressed by Diana brings out a certain girlishness in her and is charming. The piscine calyx is an apt description of an irreplaceable, admirable beauty. The pollinating act has no sting to act. It is a surreal trip to fluffy heights. Barring Tommy from observing her make-up procedure is a female twist. It is the ability to be intimate and still a mystery to man. Tommy may look, taste and gorge on his maker's sensual beauty, but he may never know the secrets of Maybelline. Such are the contradictions of womanhood.
The first two sections had a realistic back and forth, especially on Diana's side, with the expected dilemma of a responsible adult, worried about the potential harm to her progeny. This section crossed well over 5 stars. Kudos!
Anonymous7 months agoI want to know if this is true. A true story for the ages. I want this to be true. Factual, memory inducing. Please be real, I beg you
josenussbaumabout 2 years agoI stop reading here, the story is boring for me. Nothing happens and it seems like a series of sex scenes.
syd_v63over 13 years agoNot too happy with the introduction of the Antagonist but every good story needs something. The whole Mothr re-committing herself sceene was possibly one of the hottest things I've read. Good work.
