You Better You Betbydinkleberry©
And she was quite aware of my crush. She'd often catch me looking at her and admiring what I was seeing. Instead of being put-off, she curiously did the opposite. When we'd make eye contact she'd smile at me, give me a wink, or wave to me through the mirror. As I grew older and matured she'd even sometimes playfully blow me a kiss or shake her ass for me, and what a nice ass it was. I remember once after we made eye contact she lifted her hands up to her breasts and bounced them as if having to adjust and shift them. After my eyes fell out of my skull and my jaw dropped to the fall she laughed loudly startling those around her as they were completely unaware of her source of mirth.
Still as I entered high school I did begin dating girls my own age. Those romances were never anything serious just your typical high school romances that last a few weeks or months; after they are over there's no hard feelings and we keep going on with our lives without it being awkward around each other.
Mom also dated throughout the years. She had a few basic rules such as she would not date anyone that had anything remotely to do with her job. She also wouldn't date too far out of her social strata, so the young playboys would get politely shot down. Beyond that she seemed to keep things pretty casual. She dated a plumber for a few years; my sister and I wondered if it would ever get serious. It never did as one day it was over and we never asked why. She dated our high school principal twice and when that stopped both my sister and I were relieved. We never saw or heard anything inappropriate with any of her boyfriends so I guess she confined that behavior to only at his place.
1984 finally arrived and I graduated from Huntington High School. With Mom watching I graduated with a New York State Regents Diploma with Honors and also a member of the Honor Society. Having lived my whole life on Long Island and basically in the same house in Huntington I was intent on getting off Long Island and going to college somewhere else.
Not being super rich going to school out of state was out of the question. That was fine with me as I had been accepted into Cortland State's Engineering program, one of the SUNY colleges. I'd learn it is located on the frozen tundra of western New York in between Syracuse and Binghampton. Between financial aid, a scholarship from earning a NYS Regent Diploma and another because my father was a Vietnam casualty I was able to scratch enough pennies together to attend.
And this finally brings us to June 1986.
My sophomore semester was over and I was glad to be home. Two years ago I was in a rush to leave home but now I missed it so much. Although I enjoyed Cortland State, the county of Cortland, New York was so fucking boring that if I shot myself in the head the sound would echo throughout the entire county because there's nothing there! To make things worse I was in a bit of slump, if ya know what I mean and so I was hoping being back on Long Island would help.
Mom seemed to be glad that I was around also. We quickly seemed to develop a morning routine of having coffee every morning and share laughs about how our nights went or too often for me didn't. We also sometimes spent those nights together doing stuff. With it being 1986 the New York Mets didn't suck. We went to Shea Stadium to enjoy watching Daryl Strawberry, Keith Hernandez, Gary Carter and co. battle the hated Philadelphia Phillies during a three game home stand. We invited my sister and she actually snarled at the idea. Her loss. Mom and I would have a blast screaming with 40,000 other fans. Game 1 we lost in a nail-biter 3-2; but we made up for it winning Games 2 and 3.
We'd have a ball watching the games. We'd laugh, cheer, yell, do the Wave. Every time a Met knocked a dinger and the Big Apple would raise outta the top hat Mom would hug me and jump up an' down – and I'd rise to the occasion too! Instead of being put off or pretending not notice Mom seemed to find this quite amusing. She would quip, "Someone's got their own big bat." or something similar. Could you blame me? She was looking dynamite in her Keith Hernandez jersey [her favorite player] and spandex pants.
Sporting the Miami Vice look of dark stubble and tall for my age at 6'2, I was surprisingly allowed to buy us $5.00 beers, although still only 20. (In 1985, New York State raised the drinking age from 19 to 21.) So we'd enjoy a few brews and dogs while at the game.
One day we all went to Jones Beach my sister, Mom and I. At the beach Mom and I had fun playing volleyball and Nerf football with all the others. Remember that while I was now 20, Mom was still young at only 36. I, of course, loved getting the opportunities to tackle her in her black bikini. My sister sat under an umbrella all day reading a book and when Mom asked her to rub sunscreen lotion on her, Jackie whined, "Maaaawhhmm."
She handed me the bottle and, I guess knowing she didn't have to ask, laid out on her beach towel. I gladly straddled her and started rubbing lotion on her back. I was surprised when she reached behind herself and untied the straps to her top – but wasn't gonna comment. Working my way down her back she purred, "God that feels so good."
I kept going further and further down without anyone saying anything. My sister seemed to be completely ignoring us even as I shifted Mom's bikini bottom to the point that the tip of her ass crack was showing. Feeling I'd gone as far as I dared I started at the other end working my way up. Starting at her ankles I started rubbing lotion and massaging her legs. As I reached her calves she reached over to grab her own book. After resettling she now had her legs spread open for me and just simply started reading.
'Ok,' I thought and resumed working my way up her magnificent silky legs. From my years at the spa I knew Mom must have just gotten her legs waxed very recently. I kept going up further an' further and also reaching deeper an' deeper into her soft, velvet smooth inner thighs. No one said anything. I kept going. I was now all the way at the top of her thighs and the only place left was her butt. I poured some lotion on my hands and started rubbing her butt and she said nothing. I kept rubbing her ass and she said nothing. I kept rubbing her hiney and she was quiet. Then my hands were actually underneath her bikini bottom caressing her cheeks and she was silent.
I couldn't fuckin' believe it! Here I was rubbing, massaging my Mom's ass with my sister a few feet away and a few thousand people on the beach surrounding us. Yet no one seemed to be paying any attention at all. If I moved my finger a fraction of an inch I would've been rubbing her pussy! Finally I couldn't take it anymore.
Announcing, "Okay, done!" I went to find a sand dune to hide behind so I could beat my dick like the sex depraved, crazed manic I was. Within minutes, I was coating a sand dune with my own pearls – because honestly there was no way in hell I was gonna go in the men's bathroom at Jones Beach to spank the monkey!
Thankfully, there are outdoor showers so I washed up and then went in search of some food. I was hungry and needed some time alone to regain composure before I could lie next to my Mom. I mean I couldn't lie next to her after just jerking off to her five minutes ago.
That night we all went to see Joan Jett and the Blackhearts at the Jones Beach Theater. I used to love this place. Back then, it was mid-sized with about 8,000 seats and the stage was actually separated by a small moat! Still it had great acoustics and at night the view was awesome since the ocean was visible from behind the bandshell. Mom and I rocked out having a party while my sister sat in her chair seeming to sulk. When they played Crimson and Clover Mom got up on my shoulders so she could scream and sing along, which she really did as they finished with I Love Rock 'n' Roll, Bad Reputation and closing with Cherry Bomb.
Finally the night of my sister's senior prom was upon us. I don't know how it happened but somehow I got stuck having to drive my sister and her childhood friend – and this wasn't like Eric Foreman taking Donna Pinciotti. No this was more like Lisa Simpson asking Milhouse Van Houten to take her to her prom. My sister's childhood friend was Steven something-or-the-other and like her was a band-fag nerd. However Steven living near Aunt Zoe and Uncle Warren attended Commack High School. Although my sister was 17 years old and Steven 18, meaning both had driver's licenses, I somehow got shanghaied into having to drive them. (I really need to pay attention when someone is talking instead of simply nodding my head.)
That night my mother and sister fussed about everything. Mom wanted to do up my sister, do her hair, do her make-up and my sister was a fuss-pot about the whole deal. I wisely avoided getting involved and instead focused on memorizing the directions I needed. For whatever reason Jackie's senior class choose some place in Massapequa – which happens to be on the south shore of Nassau County. Finally they were ready and Mom announced, "Ok, let's go."
I was surprised to discover that she would be accompanying us also. The surprises continued as I discovered that although Mom was going with us I was still going to be driving because we'd be taking my car. I mention this as Mom had a 1985 Black Mercury Cougar that was really sharp. Instead we'd be taking 'The Bird' as my friends all called my car. It was a 1978 Ford Thunderbird that I still miss. The 1978 Ford Thunderbird was the size of a small boat while as sleek and powerful as one. The Bird was midnight metallic blue with a light chamois vinyl top wrapping around that distinctive three window set with T-tops. Thankfully back then gas was only in the $1.50 range as its 400 cu in Cleveland big block V8 engine drank faster than an alkie. Still The Bird was as comfortable as all get up an' day, plus it was fun to drive.
After picking up Steven and delivering my sister and him at her prom Mom and I had a few hours to kill. I asked, "So what c'ha wanna do?"
"I don't know. Drive around and let's see if we can find anything." So that's what we did. The only thing I knew about Massapequa was that the Sunrise Mall was somewhere nearby but I wanted to avoid that. The idea of killing time in a mall was not appealing and the Sunrise Mall sucked balls. Within a few minutes we passed by a dumpy looking movie theater. I suggested, "How 'bout a movie?"
"Let's keep looking and we can come back," Mom remarked. And so we did. Not really finding anything we started getting close to the less than savory Wantagh. Mom sighed saying, "Well I guess it's the movies."
Pulling into the parking lot of the small three screens theater there was maybe 10 cars there on a weekday night. At the ticket window we discovered that we had just missed the start of Top Gun by 20 minutes, meaning if we hadn't driven around aimlessly we would've walked in during the opening credits. We laughed at our luck. Now our choices were Short Circuit and Cobra. I begged, "Dear god, not Short Circuit."
Mom laughed as she probably had even less inclination towards watching that than I did and so we got two tickets for Sylvester Stallone's Cobra. The snack bar was manned by a pimply faced teen that was scratching his ass as we walked into the grimy lobby. Unaware of us, he began really digging in there and Mom started laughing so hard she crashed into me and had to lean against me not to fall down. Without saying anything we just kept going. Entering our theater we were 10 minutes early but the lights were already ¾ quarters dark probably to hide anything as the floor was bathed in darkness.
Taking our seats I think we had the theater to ourselves except for maybe some kids all the way up in the dark corner. The only reason I think this is I thought I saw the tip of a joint getting passed back an' forth. If so Mom ignored it as she continued laughing about pimply, "Do you think he found any dinkleberries hiding up in there?"
"Wow," I laughed and with her still looking at me I realized she wanted an answer. "God, I hope not."
"Wanna bet he smells his hand after he's done?" she joked and I was surprised how nasty she was being.
"Oh without a doubt he will. I bet he'll ask his pal in the ticket booth to take a hit off of that," I responded.
"Eeewww," Mom loudly laughed. Finally the previews started and we settled down to watch as the movie opened. There's a crazy supermarket scene and Sly arrives in a bad-ass classic hot rod that unfortunately would get beat to shit and not survive to the end of the movie. About ten minutes into the movie Mom and I started wrestling for the arm-rest between us and started jabbing each other in the ribs. I'm not sure how it happened but we silently called a truce by instead holding hands as we watched Marion Cobretti, nicknamed "Cobra" meet Ingrid Knudsen, the then smoking hot Bridgette Nelson.
At some point Mom and I looked at each other. I don't remember what prompted it. Perhaps it was the scene where Cobra makes out with Ingrid (Nelson) for the first time, yet I seem to think it was earlier in the movie than that. Without saying anything we both leaned in and kissed. It was a quick, almost chaste kiss, similar to the first one you'd gave on a first date. We both leaned back for a moment with maybe four inches between us. Realizing that kissing each other wasn't icky, it was on.
We kissed with unbridled lust and passion. Yes it happened that quickly. One moment we were watching the movie the next we were wrapped in each other's arms going at it like a couple of young teenagers making out at the movies instead of my 36 year old Mom and her 20 year old son.
I couldn't friggin' believe it! I'd been dreaming of this moment at least half my life and now it was happening in some shabby movie theater but I cared not. Instead I focused on how great her lips felt on mine. They seemed perfect, not too small – as with some past girlfriends; or too much lipstick – as when I'd secretly steal kisses from her co-workers.
We both shifted in our seats, turning so that we were facing each other and hugging. As my arms wrapped around her I felt her lips open and her tongue touched my lips. I was so damn hard already I almost creamed. Thankfully, I instead opened my mouth to hers and our tongues met.
With our tongues wrestling upon themselves I felt her slightly shift and my left hand as if knowing wandered around to her frontside. I felt her actually giggle as I palmed her breast. Not especially busty, I knew she was a small 32B – basically more a tangerine than an orange; yet for her they were perfectly sized giving her soft small bumps on her long, lean body. And at that moment her tit felt beyond perfect beneath my palm.
She leaned in against me – her lips, her tongue, her breast. Our kiss ended and we smiled at each other. I pledged, "I love you."
"You better," she softly purred without missing a beat.
"You bet," I told her picking up the beat and my love for her soared for I've loved this classic The Who song yet she was the first woman I've ever known who knew this riff. In the past I'd joke with a girlfriend when she said, 'I love you,' I'd reply 'You better.' If I was lucky they'd just go 'Huh?' Often they'd get upset and I'd be forced to explain it.
We both enjoyed a laugh and I leaned in for another long, loving kiss. As we Frenched my hand explored over an' around her top. She took my hand and pushed it under her top. 'Holy Shit!' my mind screamed as I rubbed her burning flesh. I still remember how hot she felt that night and was astounded. I felt her delicate, dainty bra and somehow I was able to peel a cup down and free her left breast.
"Oh, oh, oh...' she breathlessly whimpered as I squeezed her bare breast. All I could think of at that moment was that I wanted to taste her, I wanted to suck her tits. Not realizing, or not caring, that we were in a movie theater I leaned in to do so.
Her right hand reached out and stopped me; yet her left hand took hold of my wrist that was under her shirt and guided it down and inside her pants. I felt her body shift, her hips slid forward as she turned forwards granting me greater access. Suddenly my fingers were inside her panties and I felt her dewy-soft pubic hair. I was staggered as I grasped that she, my mother, had only a thin trimmed landing strip! Only my middle finger touched fur as the others felt her smooth slick flesh. And then I was touching her pussy!
"Ooooh," she gasped and held my hand firmly – for which I was thankful because I probably would've pulled back. After that momentary hesitancy, I knew what to do next. I allowed her to shift some more as I also turned so that my right arm was draped over her shoulders pulling her upper body to me and granting me even greater access below.
"Oh god, oh, oh, oh," she breathlessly whispered as I petted her pussy. In my mind I thanked every past girlfriend that gave me the experience for this moment that I had been training for. I gently, yet confidently, petted her pussy by dragging my hand up while curling my fingers into my palm. Then like rowing a boat where you lift the oars out of the water on the back-stroke, I'd lift my hand on the down-stroke before repeating the process.
With her heavy breathing and panting we were now just watching each other and watching as I strummed my fingers upon her pussy. Although this was the first time we'd done any of this it felt so natural, so right that no words were needed. Neither of us felt awkward, hesitant, or embarrassed. I could feel how wet she was, I could feel how steaming hot her pussy was and knew she was ready.
My middle finger blissfully slipped inside her pussy and with her arm wrapped around my back she held me tight as she loudly sucked in air through her teeth. She released a beautiful sigh of, "Aaaaa..."
"Oh god, oh, oh, oh god, oh," she whispered as I fingered her pussy; and in an odd sense we returned to somewhat watching the movie. Still as I half watched the movie and half watched her I was astonished how aroused she was. Never had I ever seen someone become so aroused in person and only in the few porno tapes I had seen. I had once seen a tape of young Christy Canyon getting fingered and writhing an' moaning in delight. 'Til that moment I thought Christy Canyon must've been faking it as no one else behaved that way until tonight. I was fingering my mother's pussy and she held tight to my wrist with one hand, the other clutched my back. She seemed to fluctuating between looking at the screen and the pitch black ceiling, but I wondered if she was really seeing anything.
"Ah, ah, ah, oh, oh, oh," she tried to breathe and I somehow realized that she was about to cum. I was watching as my mother was getting ready to truly have an orgasm as I fingered her. Her grasp on my wrist tightened and her hips swiveled as if unconnected to anything.
"Oh god Scott, oh god Scott, oh god Scott," she was able to get out and then her head rocked back and she silently screamed at the heavens. With my finger in her pussy I felt my Mom cum. Simultaneously her body became stiff and turned to Jell-O; she hardened and became putty; she throbbed and was motionless. And then it was over. I had just made my Mom cum!
Between heavy, deep breathes she whispered, "Oh my god... oh my god... oh my god."
"Come here," she ordered as we withdrew my hand and we picked up our kissing before she took my hand and lifted it to her mouth and sucked on my finger as if it was the greatest pacifier ever. Pulling it from her mouth she boldly stated, "Ok, now it's your turn."
Twenty years and even what had just happened hadn't prepared me for that. Perhaps it was my stupefied look but Mom took the lead saying, "Lean back and pretend you're watching the movie."