Cornfield

Sometimes, making love is exactly the right thing for the blues. That was so very true the day I spent with my mother.

My last year of college had been quite rocky for the romance side of my life, far different from the academic side. First Bob dumped me after four months of non-stop physical activity, and then Katlin did the same. I struggled though finals and graduated near the top of my class.

The road to the farm was just beyond the large cornfield separating Mom's house from Uncle Frank's farm. Frank was her brother and had been one of my first lovers. I don't think anyone knew he was, or still is. Being with him did not seem to be what I wanted or needed.

"Hi Molly," my mother sang out as she raced out the back door of the old farmhouse, down the two wooden steps of the screened porch then stopping beside my old beaten up pickup. She wiped her hands on the long tan apron dangling from her neck over the old blue dress loosely covering her tall lean body. Her body matched mine.

Her arms warmly enveloped my trembling body and held me close. Our embrace eased my hurt and I could feel her breath cover my ear. Her soft breast rested against mine. My face repositioned itself so my lips rested against her cheek. A tender kiss followed by, "Darling," blown against the corner of her mouth. I wanted more. "It is my mother," I told myself, unsure of so much. The embrace continued and I felt my moisture build.

Her lips covered mine first - just a kiss, not much more. "Come in out of this heat." Her hand led me and I followed. "Let me make it all better."

In the kitchen, she pointed at the round oak table with claw feet that had been there all my childhood. "Sit and I'll pour you some coffee. We'll talk." I watched her bare legs and bare feet as she walked here and there. I found myself staring at her hips, thinking about more. "Still like it black?" I nodded and leaned against the back of the chair, my legs parting, and my skirt riding up higher.

She sat the old ceramic mug with permanent coffee stains, the one that had been my father's before he died last year, in front of me and dragged her hands unconsciously over her crotch. "So good to see you again." It had only been a few months, but she made it seem more like years. She pulled a chair out from the table so it faced mine and settled sloppily in it. Her foot reached out and rubbed against my leg then continued to slide along the underside of my calf. We smiled.

"Katlin left me." I had already told her, but didn't know what else to say now. I sipped my coffee as if I had not said anything. I watched her foot move against my leg and then my eyes stared at her chest.

She removed the apron. "Sorry to hear." A button was unfastened and her dress gapped open exposing bare skin where her bra should have been. Her foot dropped to the floor and she shifted in the chair. Her hand now rested between her knees, the hem of the dress somewhere higher along her thighs. A foot pulled back along side the chair and the knee of that leg fell leaving her slightly more exposed.

I could feel my warmth rush up thought my body. My face flushed. My tongue slowly dragged across my lower lip.

She noticed. "Nice to see you." She was nervous about something.

I walked to the counter and poured coffee into my almost full cup. "Want some?"

She reached around me and took a cup from the cupboard. Her body lay against mine in the process. It lingered. Her hand touched the small of my back. Her lips kissed my neck. "Yes." The cup now sat on the counter and I filled it. "Thanks." The word flowed over my cheek.

I must have inhaled deeply and I turned my face. My lips caught hers. They rested a moment against each other. I thought I felt her tongue. I must have wanted it, but it wasn't there.

"Mabel was over the other day. Frank was sick." Her hand rubbed my back. She ignored the coffee. "We had a wonderful afternoon. Maybe you and I can too." She leaned even closer. I doubted a piece of paper could pass between us. My mind raced. I thought I could ring out a cup of my juices from my panties.

I savored her natural fragrance and twisted my body against hers. My nipples were already erect as they grazed hers. We said nothing as our lips touched again. The tip of her tongue spoke for her, mine for me.

At first, it was only a deep kiss. It lingered beyond tolerance and I straightened. Standing as tall and erect as her, our tongues played. My hand rested in the small of her back and slid just above the crevasse between her cheeks. Hers lay atop my left breast. "Hmmm," she drawled into my mouth. Her fingertip pressed against the still erect nipple. "Hmmm." It circled the peak lying just under the thin fabric making it grow a bit more.

My hand fell, my fingers lingering in the shallow canyon of her ass and pulling her tighter against me. The two layers of fabric seemed to vanish though they were still there. "Ah-h," I breathed over her tongue.

Her fingers began to wrestle with the bottom of my blouse in a vain effort to free it from the waistband of my skirt. I inhaled and the next tug provided success. Her hand now rested against the bare skin and slithered upwards. Her touches were fanning the flames within me. My heat was now almost unbearable.

As my hand roamed the orb of her buttock, I realized there was nothing under the dress. Suddenly my fingers cupped the mound in front, a finger digging though the dress into her slit. She gasped, but did not protest. A soft yes filled my mouth. Our teeth banged as we shoved our tongues deeper searching for the top of the throat. Now more fingers lay over her slit shoving more fabric in and massaging the opening. The fabric sapped her juices. Her humping told me she wanted more. I did too.

I grabbed at the hem of the skirt and jerked it upwards until it rested over her back. At last, my fingers became damp. I felt her clit extend from the hood and growing. Her knee pressed against my hip giving me more space so my hand could join my fingers in massage. "Yes-s," she roared without regard to our relation.

My hand became pinned against my thigh as she ground herself in wanton joy. Her head pulled back and she looked crazed, her eyes wide, her mouth slightly open, her tongue wetting her dry lips, the hot breath blowing into my face. "Ah, ah-h." The sounds continued for minutes, it seemed like more. I did not mind. "Ah. Oh-h, oh-h." She fell limp against me. "Oh Molly. It is nice to see you." She snickered. We giggled.

I watched as she pulled my blouse up. She bent forward and nuzzled first one breast then the other. My hand roamed though her long brown hair dangling over her shoulder. "We have all afternoon." My words drifted around us for a moment.

She stood and looked. "There's no rush." Her hand pulled me down the hallway, our bare feet plodding, almost floating together towards the bedroom.

We lingered by the bed and she undressed me. I was wearing only a skirt and blouse. There was not much to remove. Her words sultry, "I dreamed of you last night. It was a good dream. Nasty crazy love." She watched my nipple bend under her fingertip. "It took all day to exhaust our selves." The nipple bent the other way as her finger moved. She leaned close and sucked it between her lips then her teeth.

I gasped, "Oh-h." My hand grasped her head. Her face pressed tight against my chest. I pushed back. Free, I sat. My spread legs wide. My fingers spread my opening.

She watched. "Yeah-h." She removed her dress. Naked, she stood in front of me. "I want to watch."

A fingertip dug my clit out. Now it reached out. It begged for attention. I provided that attention. "Ah-h." My hips bucked. Fingers from the other hand dug deep, became wet. My hips bucked again, and again. I rode my hand, strummed my clit. "Oh-h ... fuck." The audience warmed me in the hot room. "Oh-h ... fuck!" This time I screamed the words as I continued to ride my hand - squirming, riding, fingering. "Oh-h ... fuck!" She watched and I thrilled at the joy of performing for my mother ... at last, performing for my mother. "Oh-h, oh, ... oh-h." I carried on enjoying the sex with myself, enjoying the sex for my mother. She watched as I came. She watched as my fingers coated themselves with my sex.

She sat beside me and touched between my thighs. Her fingertip now covered too. She licked from the fingertip. "Delicious." She dipped it again and sampled the wetness as if not believing the first time. "Yes." She leaned down and kissed my folds of skin. Her tongue dragged deep plowing the nectar hidden inside, shoveling it into her mouth, letting it roll along her tongue and down her throat. "Ah-h."

She let her hips move closer to my face to share. My blues were gone. It was not the last time with my mother.