Velvet Ch. 02byErnest Hemingsex©
Thanks again for the positive feedback. I was originally going to have this as a 2 part story. In writing what I thought would be Part 2, the dream scenes took on a life of their own. Thus I ended up lengthening the story and my original intention. Enjoy.
WARNING: If you are not 18 or older, please leave this page immediately.
Incest—a word that has extreme negative connotations. The image that most often comes about when the word is mentioned is that of a father forcing himself on his daughter. Any forcible sex act, especially done by a parent to a child, should result in the parent being punished in legal and non-legal ways.
This is a fantasy of consensual incest between adults. It is intended for adults who are interested in reading about consensual sex between relatives. If this offends you, do not continue any further.
How did my mother and I end up in bed in this expensive Manhattan hotel, having not only an extremely hot and torrid first sexual experience, but also the beginning of an emotional coupling? It could be traced back to my childhood and early adulthood. There was never anything sexual between my mother and me. We were your regular mother and son. She was always there for me, especially during bad times. She was also my biggest cheerleader, and sometimes my only friend. We had a bond, which I would eventually find, would be the strongest and best relationship I ever had.
The first situation which could be considered an accelerant to our incestuous union was the divorce of my parents and the aftermath. Mom found on the collar of one of Dad's dress shirts lipstick which wasn't hers. She threw him out and filed divorce papers. I spent many a night at Mom's holding her while she cried and cried. Often she fell asleep while crying in my arms. I would carry her to her bedroom (if she wasn't already sobbing in bed) and release her to the comfort of her bed. I headed for the couch in the living room to sleep. It was during one of these crying and hugging sessions where I first "noticed" Mom as a woman. I thought to myself as I moved the couch pillows, "Dad's nuts. How could he let go someone who was as attractive as Mom?" I wanted to kick my father's ass but I kept my composure, and eventually (and unexpectedly) succeed where he failed.
The emotional "hurricane" of divorce would strike our family again almost five years later. I would be its next victim. I married and similar to Mom eventually discovered my mate knew fidelity as just a word in the dictionary. During the court proceedings Mom moved in with me, concerned my social drinking would change to alcoholic proportions. We were still your typical mother and son for almost the year we lived together. The one atypical moment was the night I returned home after 9 PM after working extra hours on a new project. After getting into the apartment and locking the door I hollered that I was home. No response from Mom. I could hear the TV on in her bedroom. Just then the bathroom door next to her room opened and there she appeared. And wow! What an appearance. She stood surprised in the hallway, looking kind of like the deer caught in a car's headlights, wearing a beige terrycloth towel. It was wrapped around her; a knot to keep the towel closed, rested just at the start of her cleavage. The "hem" of the towel reached mid thigh.
"Paul! I didn't hear you."
I didn't hear her. I was taking in this beautiful sight of almost nakedness. My eyes were roaming all over my mother's toweled form. Her black hair looked just-washed, the raven layers on her shoulders looking damp. The smell of her favorite herbal shampoo whiffed my nostrils. Her large breasts appeared like they wanted to break free of their terry cloth confinement. It was at that moment that I realized Mom was "all legs." From the half-covered thighs to the lavender-painted toenails, Mom's legs were like snakes: long and smooth. The fact that they were slightly parted made me wish I was the piece of rug she was standing on so I could look up between them. She smiled, and that broke my trance and the silence between us.
"Sorry to embarrass you," she offered. More like "arouse you." Typically you would think she'd go running into her bedroom after being seen by her son in an almost-naked state. On the contrary, she hadn't moved since she saw me. She continued standing there.
"No. No problem, Mom. You didn't embarrass me." I then playfully put my right hand over my eyes pretending to be embarrassed at what I saw.
"Oh you," she quipped and finally motioned, turning to toward her room. I quickly parted the fingers of the hand in front of my eyes—kind of like peeking through Venetian blinds—and watched as my mother's ass swayed left to right and back under the bath cloth. She entered her bedroom, closing the door. It was all I could do from jerking off that night in the shower in my room.
Almost a year later and I was officially a divorcee. I was also on the verge of becoming the general manager of the software company I was working for. I had thrown myself into my work, not with the intention of advancement. It was a diversion and a healing balm for the emotionalism of my divorce. The impending promotion was just a by-product of the need to work my balls off.
Speaking of my balls, also within that year span I got back on the female trail. I didn't want to get wrapped up in a relationship. I was not looking for the aftermath of a rebound scenario either. I just wanted to do my own version of Sex In The City. I hooked up with a buxom blonde account executive who for similar reasons of mate infidelity—her sister was balling her fiancé—also wanted to keep it simply physical. We definitely kept it simply physical. When ever we got together, we were like to alley cats humping in the midnight hour. Mom, seeing my emotional and social improvements, was happy for me and left my apartment, returning to her place.
Nothing else remotely sexual happened with Mom but a variation of that towel scene popped into my mind a couple of times while I was with Blondie. One evening we were in her office after hours, she sitting on top of her desk with her suit skirt pushed up to her waist and me sitting in front of her with my head between her bare spread legs. As my tongue dragged along her inner left thigh ascending toward her blonde and wet opening, the image of Mom standing in her terrycloth wrap came to mind. My wish of being that piece of rug came true in my mind. Similar to one of those flicks with outrageous special effects, the area of rug between Mom's bare feet took the shape of a tongue...my tongue. It grew quickly, and shot up her lower leg, not touching her flesh until it got to the middle of the back her left thigh. As my tongue traveled along the blonde's thigh, so did it along my mother's in my mind. I could smell both their sexual scents and felt their rising heat. In reality the tip of my tongue touched the labia of Blondie; in my dream my tongue was on the forbidden sex lips of my mother.
My girlfriend, with eyes closed, tossed her head back and began to sigh...as did Mom.
"Oh Paul, you do that nice," my buxom blonde exclaimed.
"Oh Paul, you do that nice," my mother cooed.
My tongue, in reality and dream, slipped into their cunts. "Oh what a turn-on," Blondie finally emitted after a long series of panting, "you're eating me out right here in my office on my desk! God, that's so fucking hot!"
Mom, in a slightly subdued tone, hissed, "Oh you nasty boy. You're eating out your own mother." She got into a squat position like a baseball catcher allowing us both to enjoy my unhindered ascension into her wet, forbidden depths.
Both women rode my face. The blonde girl moving her pelvis in a front and back motion, her pushed-aside white panties soaked through. Mom was bouncing up and down on my tongue and—which the rug had just now turned into—my mouth and face. She also ground her crotch into my face, her black public hair occasionally tickling my nose. In both reality and in dream, my tongue lurched more forward into a pink honey-pot that was sexually simmering...and soon boiled over into my mouth. Blondie and mom were raining their sexual secretions onto me as my oral phallus continued fucking them both.
I swirled my face into the blond and brunette pussies. My tongue withdrew from inside their sweltering crevices and began a light fanning of their clitorises. "Yes! Yes! Yesssssssssss!" they screamed as they both reached their orgasmic peak, and flooded my tongue, mouth, and face with a final wave of their sexual showers. The smell. The taste. There is nothing like it—a woman's ejaculation. As the woman in the office and the woman in my dream gradually calmed down, I relished in the dirty notion that I now knew what a glazed donut felt like.
Unfortunately nights like this soon ended as Blondie was transferred out of state. Unfortunately nights like this also became scarce. Still feeling a little "bruised" from the divorce and having fucked my brains out with the account executive pretty steadily, I didn't think a little time without sex would be a big deal. This changed when it became a six month draught, stretching into a seventh. I jerked off a few times to memories of Blondie but even that became an issue as my dreams started changing the star of the dream—to Mom. One wet dream began with Blondie and me in your classic missionary position on her bed.
The blonde account executive was yelling, "Deeper! Deeper! Fuck meeeeee deeeeeper!"
The scene soon became a variation of that fateful night when I saw my mother in the towel; it continued at the point where we had been staring at each other. In the dream I am so locked onto viewing my mother wearing only a terrycloth towel, I did not notice my cock's reaction to her. But she did, and it is then that I realized my body's response to her visual stimulation. Her piercing black eyes had descended their focus to the tent in my dress slacks.
"Oh my, Paul," she purred coyly, "how you've...grown."
With a sensual grin, she brought her right hand up to the knot in the towel and her left hand to the corresponding part of the terrycloth, opened the towel, held it open for two seconds as if flashing me, and opened her hands. The towel cascaded down her body, past her legs and ended up crumpled around her feet. I felt like that guy in the old Memorex commercial who got blown away by the sound—I was blown away by the sight of my mother's naked glory. In my dream, my mother's body was your typical older-but-sexy form. Her breasts were large, with only a very slight slag; the dark pink nipples erect with want. Her waist was almost wash-board material, revealing she was definitely a devotee of a gym. Her pussy—the portal in which I came into this world—had its black hair in a well-trimmed V-shape. The coral-colored lips were clearly visible...and clearly moist. We said nothing to each other. The only sound in the apartment is our heart beats which were beating like Benny Goodman's Swing Swing Swing.
Then it happened in a flash. We rushed toward each other, wrapping our arms around each other in a frenzy and our lips meeting like two long lost lovers. Our lips parted, allowing our tongues to meet. Boy did they meet: they rapidly twirled around each other as our heads also moved in a circular motion. They also were sucked on by the other's mouth; I think it was Mom who first took my tongue in her mouth and sucked on it like a candy icicle on an August day. My hands raced up and down her back but soon wanted their prize: Mom's ass. Man, was that a tight ass—it was the ass of 20 year old co-ed. I squeezed and massaged those magnificent buns.
She, meanwhile, was busy with my belt buckle which typically in a frenzied sexual scenario like this gave her a slight problem in opening. This just added to the fury of the incestuous moment. After the buckle was opened, she easily brought my zipper down, despite the peak that was my erection. She left the pants button alone, instead "going for the gold" and releasing my 7 ½ inches of manhood. Once the air hit my penis, it was like a movie director yelled action. I turned Mom so her back was against the hallway wall, literally. As I turned her, I turned myself so that we continued facing each other. I lurched my pelvis forward and in one motion sent my erection into my mother's cunt. For a brief few seconds I felt the wet, warm enveloping of her sugar walls around my cock. Also for a few seconds the reality of the situation hit me: I was starting to fuck—wildly—my mother. But those few seconds of thought and any guilty feelings that may have occurred were soon swept away by the sexual rush of the moment. Now my mind was delirious that I was fucking once again, this time in a such a taboo manner which only electrified me—us—even more. I was now in a steady, hungry rhythm of pounding my mother against the wall. She eagerly met each of my strokes. It was now a triple meet: my penis with her pussy, her back with the hallway wall, and our lips and tongues (once again).
The connection between our mouths was an on and off one. The times we weren't lip-locked, we were grunting and groaning. Mom moved her left leg and wrapped it around my waist. My cock now had even better access to her hot hole. It turned me on whenever a woman wrapped her leg or legs around me. And this being my sexy mother was even more of a turn on. She had her hands wrapped interlocked around my neck. I had the palms of both of my hands flat against the wall, one on each side of her head. We looked deep into each other's eyes.
"Uh, uh, uh."
"Mm. Mm. Yeah, oh yeah."
My penis jackhammered into her, moving back and forth. My prick, slick with her nectar, slipped quickly in and out—but not all the way out—of my mother's wet welcoming vagina. Her pelvic movement matched the hurried rush of my. This high-energized illicit intercourse continued for a few minutes more. The only sound between us was the continued grunts and groans of pleasure. Mom's grunts and groans were increasing and I knew her orgasm was about to hit.
"Oh, yeah, yeah! YEAH!" she exclaimed. Her leg wrapped around me tightened.
I bent my knees a little and gave a northerly thrust and I came as well. I moaned as white wave, after white wave shot from me deep into my mother's vagina.
We stared at each other as my orgasm seemed like it was trying to catch up with hers. The staring between us had been animalistic as we fucked like beasts in the wild. As our orgasms were winding down, the look between us gradually became softer and more emotional. This new look between us resulted in a hard, passionate kiss. I moved and my depleted dick popped out of Mom's sopping cunt. Her grip around my neck was released, her hands dropping to my back as mine went from the wall to her back. We embraced and continued our passionate kiss.