In the back of my mind, the plan should have been at stage two. I was going to seduce my mother. Or rather, in my mind, she was going to seduce me. One way or another....
As she sat down, I couldn't tell if it was working, but imagined it might, if I tried hard enough. But then, from a practical side, I knew it was only my day dreaming and that all that "mind control" stuff was a crock. But I so wanted to touch and taste her, and certainly, not as a son. It took all my control to maintain the "distance" and "propriety."
So, whenever around her, I would try to project these images of lovemaking. I tried to maintain the perception of an innocent son when all the while, in my own mind I was fondling her, caressing her body, kissing and licking her, lying in her arms sliding in and out. In some day dreams she resisted, briefly, while in others she welcomed my advances. But all the while, I maintained the utmost in decorum.
When out of touching range, I developed and tried to propel thoughts of my hands on her breasts, or my lips sucking her nipples, or my tongue slipping in and out of her cunt, or my fingers sliding around her bottom, inside her cheeks and stroking her puckered bung hole, using her hot juice to slip in the back door as I pumped my dick in and out of her cunt. I thought about her sucking my dick, while I sucked her pussy. Most exciting was thinking about lying between her thighs and slowly moving up until my cock was just about to enter her, or thinking about sliding her panties down from behind and slipping my dick in between the cheeks of her bottom, all the while holding onto her hips or breasts.
Sometimes I would just concentrate on her breasts to see if I could "think" her nipples into excitement. At other times, I would watch her from behind, mesmerized by the movement of her hips and bottom as she moved about the room, and imagine my cock sliding up into her tight butt hole. But I had to be careful because I didn't want to get caught staring...which might create other problems.
And when I was close, I often fought the temptation to touch too much. The only way I could control it was when, on occasion, I would rub her shoulders, I made it a game. Somehow, standing behind her, I managed to concentrate on only touching her back and shoulders. I resisted the urges to reach around and touch her breasts...making almost a game of it by setting a boundary around her bra and panties, and never getting close enough to touch either. And perhaps the hardest part, other than my dick rising to attention on these occasions, was avoiding the temptation to rub my cock against her bottom. It was almost impossible to sit across the room and think about undressing and ravishing her without doing it. And, when rubbing her shoulders directly, it took every bit of strength to keep my hands from roaming to follow my thoughts.
But more and more I was undressing her. My mom, was really quite pretty with lovely shoulder length hair, the right height and eyes that could at times bore right through you. More captivating, she had the perkiest breasts and roundest, firmest bottom I'd ever had the pleasure of touching or brushing against. And the mound cresting her long slender well proportioned legs, was like a magnet drawing my eyes to inspect every movement in the attempt to discern the many different approaches to the love channel between her thighs.
Her clothes were almost never tight, but always a little loose, "suggesting" what lay beneath. The summer temperature required light clothing and hers almost always revealed an exquisite outline to the discerning eye. When she sat on the couch, or a chair, her posture always provided a "hint" of what she had to offer.
When in shorts, her full rounded butt always beckoned for my palms to cup her cheeks. The mound over her pussy always seemed to protrude slightly, a little more prominently than her trim tummy, begging to be uncovered so I could run my fingers through her pubic hair and stroke it with my lips and tongue. And between her thighs, her mystery of mysteries, always seemed to be pouting at me, asking for my kisses, and tongue.
Almost equally captivating were her breasts, especially when her bra could be clearly seen through a light summer blouse. And every so often, fate would smile and she'd wear an almost sheer bra under a light top, and I could see her dark areolas, and perky nipples creating their own little attractions, like buttons on a perfect mound of cream, just waiting to be sucked.
More than once, I'd managed a quick view of her thighs and panty covered passion nest. Mom was the complete woman and often preferred dresses, unfortunately cut to an appropriate length. But every so often, as she sat on the couch, or crossed her legs, a brief vision of loveliness and mystery would be offered to feed the imagination for many a night. And once, when I was a bit younger and only beginning to be aware of the exquisite differences, I'd had the unparalleled opportunity to rub her legs after a long day at the office.
Sitting at one end of the couch as she stretched out and we watched TV, I began rubbing her ankles which had ended up in my lap to make room for us both. By this time, after so many back rubs, I knew what helped her relax and made her comfortable. So I simply, absent mindedly, began massaging her calves. Without really thinking about it, my hands wandered all over her lower legs and soon began to attend to the muscles around her knees. In the meantime, while I still watched the program, she'd dozed off, and I noticed that her legs were somewhat asprawl on the couch. Out of curiosity, as I rubbed her calves and ankles, I ever so slowly flexed her knees so they bent slightly, opening the distance between her thighs. As I worked on the knees, they naturally spread a bit more and her dress slid away, revealing a bit more of her thighs.
Curious, but scared to death of getting caught, I dared not go much further. But still, rubbing her knees, and just above to where her dress had slid, I managed to open the distance a bit more. Her thighs parted a bit more so I could see her panties. By now I was truely intrigued, and quite excited. Her ankle was resting comfortably against my growing cock and my fingers were beginning to tremble.
At this point, she was breathing evenly, quite comfortable and seemed sound asleep. And I was scared to death, as I strained to see more of the mystery between her thighs. Even in the shadow of her skirt, I could see her thin panties, and lush dark pubic hair underneath. I could even see where the panties slid up into the folds of what I would later learn was her pussy.
But in my impatience or excitement, I sought to spread her legs even further, and as if by reflex, her thighs closed and she turned a bit on the couch and woke up. That night, while getting hard was nothing new, a curious new strain developed, as I wondered more and more about girls in general, the mystery of women, and the captivating charms of my mother.
I guess that's when I started trying to be the "perfect" son. Understand, I truly loved my mom, and would never do anything to hurt her. And I recognized how hard it was for her to work everyday to support us and to also find time to help me as I grew. In many ways, she'd devoted herself to "us" and took very little time for herself. She did date a bit, but it never seemed to go anywhere, or last with any one guy, and after a couple of dinners, or movies, the guys would disappear. But I'm pretty sure none of them ever scored on her.
So I pitched in whenever or wherever I could. I really enjoyed her company, and we joked and teased alot.
We even got into a couple of playful tussles when I was younger and we'd wrestled around. In many ways, that too was an experience, and I found myself drawn to standing near or next to her so I could brush against her body. This was easy enough as the house was small and quarters somewhat tight. More as a scary and titillating experiment, I began to slip around behind her and let my hand lightly brush against her bottom. And, every so often, when she stood next to me, I'd casually let my arm swing so my knuckles would ever so slightly caress that mysterious mound under her stomach. These were quick surreptitious efforts on my part to "check her out" and often resulted in delicious memories in the night. That is, until I brashly took it a little to far.
One day as we were teasing and tickling and trying to decide who would pick the TV program, things got a little out of, or into hand I should say.
Mom as usual had me pinned to the floor, on my stomach, arm locked behind me, and was tickling the back of my neck with her hair as she leaned over trying to get me to concede. Somehow or other, I managed to wriggle free and turn the tables, and her around so I was sitting behind her on the floor. I wrapped my arms and legs around her, "quite" innocently putting my hand on her breast. That moment gave me pause and started the normal sensations of an instinctively horny young man. I'd never realized just how full, and firm, and soft, and exciting her breasts were. As she squirmed, her dress had slid up around her hips and I could see her bare legs and flashing panties. And as I held her tight, despite the exertion, my cock began to swell as it rubbed against her bottom.
But in my distraction, she rolled onto me, face to face, flat on the floor, again with me underneath. Just to keep a grip, I slid may hands around and cupped her bottom, pulling her tight to me.
I guess it was the combination of my hands on her butt, actually sliding under her panties, and my stiffening cock pressed against her lower stomach, that caused her to suddenly jerk and roll away from me and say, "okay, you win." I was really confused, and a little scared, realizing that I may have gone a little too far even by accident. But, without looking in my direction, she fixed her clothing and got up saying, "I really didn't want to watch that old news hour anyway, and maybe the movie will be good." And then as she turned to face me, all proper again, said, "but you make the popcorn!" and then went to brush her hair.
I don't remember the movie, but I certainly remember, and have relived the tussling, over and over and over. But the touching sort of ended after that.
As I got older, and hung out with other guys, I'd begun to pick up quite a bit of "neighborhood sex education" listening to the older fellows, and occasionally getting my hands on a skin mag or two. But the pictures weren't all that good, or a little too graphic, and the stories were all too rough. That is, until I stumbled on one that, at first was a little off beat, but intrigued me nonetheless. It was one of those quick and to the point stories about a mother who wanted to suck her son's cock. One moment the thought, the next paragraph he's pumping her; give me a break.
Now, I'd never really thought about it much, but as I "reviewed" more and more skin mags, I realized oral sex was kind of "normal" And even more fascinating were the pictures of guys sucking girls' pussies. But the pictures of "overly well hung" studs (jeez, do they come that big without some medical help) and well used women with wide open gashes and humongous tits was a little intimidating. I guess you need 8 or more inches to get those gals to spread it for you.
But I digress,
because the focus of my fascination had become more and more, the lovely
woman in my own home. The source of so many nocturnal mental meandering.
And as she sat down across from me, I looked for signs that maybe, today,
it would start.
|Another great story by Anonymous.|
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