A Makeover for My Old Mum Ch. 01

'I've got some black seamed stockings too. They'll go well with the dress.'

Before I left we kissed, and it took all my willpower not to slide a hand inside her bathrobe, but I knew what would happen if we did. I was keen to relish the anticipation of a whole evening's sexual build up. And I wanted to see her in stocking and suspenders again!

I didn't rush back. I wanted to give her plenty of time to get ready. I got back to her house at just before six and let myself in with my key. Hearing the front door open she appeared on the landing and came down the stairs. She'd washed her hair and it curled round her chin, framing her long face, parted on one side and held with a clip. Her make-up was more subdued: eye shadow and mascara, but less lipstick. She was wearing the black satin dress and black stockings and her black high-heeled shoes. And somehow, my rather skinny mum, with the long face and pointed nose and the too-full lower lip and slightly protruding front teeth looked about as desirable as I could imagine any woman ever looking.

'Elizabeth, you look fantastic. Really fantastic. And I want you very much,' I said, simply.

'She blushed, making her look even more appealing. 'Thank you. And you can have me, later...'

Elizabeth came even further out of her shell that evening. We could barely keep our hands off each other, but in between the kissing and hugging we talked about anything and everything and smiled and laughed. Even Elizabeth laughed. And we drank wine, but not too much and we had a candlelit dinner with the main lights turned down and it was a truly wonderful evening. And just a prelude to what was to come later.

By common consent we switched off the television at eleven pm, locked up and switched off the downstairs lights. Then we went upstairs together, for all the world like any married couple. Except that I don't know about Elizabeth, but boy was I nervous -- much more so than the first time, at my flat. For one thing I wasn't half-pissed, having had just two small glasses of wine. So I was more keenly aware of the situation, of the tension in the air.

Elizabeth used her en-suite and I used the main bathroom. After I'd finished brushing my teeth I went into her bedroom and closed the door. One of the bedside lights was on, but turned down low, so it was comfortably shadowy in her room. She came out of her bathroom and we met in the middle of the floor, coming together for our first serious kiss of the evening. We held it a long time, tasting the toothpaste on our tongues, arms wrapped around each other, her fingers digging into my back, mine into the soft flesh of her bum cheeks. Then we undressed each other.

This was probably more fun for me than my mother. I had the excitement of revealing her underwear, of seeing her stockinged legs, in all their glory, and her night-black satin French knickers. She just had my Y-fronts and socks! But it was a bigger journey of discovery for her, and she took it seriously, making me sit down on the armchair in the corner of the room while she took off my shoes and socks and standing me up to unfasten and pull down my trousers. We took in in turns, item by item. I was left in my underpants and she in her stockings, garter belt and knickers. She knelt before me to unhook my underpants from my erection and pull them down to my ankles, instructing me to sit down so she could remove them. That left me naked and her kneeling by me, with my seven inches of rigid meat pointing to the ceiling, a clear liquid oozing from the tip. She looked at me, but I couldn't read her expression. Then she looked at my erection.

'Yours is the only one I ever remember seeing... I don't think I've ever touched one before.'

I said nothing, letting her make the first move. She reached out with her right hand and circled my shaft, about half-way up, with her thumb and forefinger, her deep red nail varnish a contrast to my pink flesh and the purple of my engorged helmet. Slowly, tentatively, she started to masturbate me. The sensation was nice but distinctly sub-optimal, with her hand nowhere near my glans. I was about to suggest an improvement when she lowered her head and took the tip of my penis in her mouth. She paused for a second, then took another inch, then another. There she paused, and I could feel her tongue exploring my urethral opening, licking at my juices, her hand still lightly moving up and down my shaft.

After a couple of minutes of this exquisite and ultra-erotic attention, my mother raised her head and looked at me. Her pupils were dilated with excitement and her lips were covered in my sticky secretion, giving them a gloss appearance.

'Am I doing it right? I'm not hurting you am I?'

'It's wonderful,' I replied, putting my hand on the back of her head and applying the faintest pressure to indicate that she should continue. She lowered her head again, with more confidence. Now she slid her lips down over my glans and back up again, all but releasing me. Then down and up again, and again... her touch light and warm, a velvet heaven. I sat back with waves of pleasure lapping at my cortex. This wasn't the most polished blowjob I'd ever had but it was right up there with the most exciting. The fact that it was my mother doing it and the fact that it was her first time just added to the moment, her inexperience was actually a turn-on.

All too soon I felt my orgasm approaching but now was not the time to ejaculate in my mother's mouth. I leaned over and gently raised her from me.

'I need to stop,' I explained. I'm struggling not to come.'

'You can come in my mouth if you want to.'

I could hardly believe Elizabeth had said this, but I smiled and shook my head. 'One day. In the meantime, there's a whole evening of pleasure ahead of us. Now take your knickers off, slowly,' I ordered, standing up.

She did as I asked, peeling her French knickers over her hips and down over her superb stockinged legs. Then she sat down, unasked, in the chair.

'Will you go down on me? lick me? like you did last night?'

Where did my mother the librarian pick up the expression "go down on me", I wondered? But I didn't need a second invitation. I've always enjoyed cunnilingus and Elizabeth's shaven cunt was a revelation. The combination, together with the spice of shockingly explicit incest was overwhelming and my butterflies started their internal dance again.

'Sit right on the edge of the chair,' I told her and she shuffled forward until her bum was nearly hanging over the edge of the padded seat. I knelt before her and, taking an ankle in each hand, I parted her legs and guided one over each arm, exposing her to me completely, her shaven pussy with its puffy labia and glint of juices, her clitoris peeping out from its hood and, lower down, her perineum and the rosy brown of her puckered little bum hole. My mother was revealing everything, and it was all mine to take.

Until my mother, I'd never seen a shaven pussy in the flesh, now I was a convert. I started by running my tongue over her outer labia, smelling her scent, sweet and heavy, then I used my thumbs to part the outer lips and my tongue to explore her inner labia and vaginal entrance. She was sopping wet and her juices, together with my saliva were starting to run down onto her perineum. I licked and tasted her for long minutes, building up the tension before I moved up to her clitoris. Elizabeth was making little mewing noises, interspersed with gasps when I penetrated her with my tongue. Out of the corner of my eye I could see her running her hands over her stockinged thighs and up to the bare flesh above her stocking tops. She stroked her inner thighs, her carmine tipped fingers inches from my mouth, then back to caressing her legs, her fingers causing a faint hissing against the taut nylon.

Eventually, I moved my mouth to her clitoral hood and started flicking my tongue over her little nub. Her mews turned into deep groans and I could sense that she was close to a climax. I carried on licking glancing up to see that she was pinching her nipples between her forefingers and thumbs, something else that surprised me about my staid and inexperienced mother. Then her orgasm hit.

'Oh God, push your fingers into me, I'm coming.'

Still licking and sucking her clit, I put three fingers into her up to the third knuckle making her cry out and throw her head about. I worked the fingers in and out, fucking her, until the spasms subsided and her head lolled to one side. Then I stood up, my face covered in her sex juices, and held out my hand. She looked at me as if she didn't know me, before taking my hand and meekly standing.

'Get onto the bed.'

'What are you going to do to me?'

'I'm going to fuck you.' It was the first time I could recall saying that word in front of my mother, let alone to her, let alone actually meaning it. She crawled to the middle of the bed and turned over, facing me, her legs wide apart. As I moved to the bed she surprised me again by running a finger up her slit and putting it in her mouth, sucking the stickiness off.

'Come on then, fuck me.' Another first. I'd never heard mum say anything worse than damn.

I knelt between her legs and guided my cock in, more gently than the last time. I slid in up to the hilt, feeling her muscles grip my shaft as I dropped to my elbows and kissed her. She kissed me back, ardently, tongue sliding into my mouth, hands round the back of my neck, trying to wrap her legs around my back. Who taught her that? Or was it just a natural reaction, to try to pull me in deeper. I started fucking her in earnest, my cock coming out to the last inch before pushing pack in, and out, and in... We got into a beautiful rhythm, her hips bucking up to meet my thrusts, her legs now over the backs of my calves, giving her the leverage to thrust against me. All too soon I felt the tingle in my balls and slowed down, breaking the kiss and looking at her from a foot away.

'Would you like to go on top?'

'If you want me to.'

I dismounted and rolled onto my back. 'Ok, straddle me and guide me into you.'

She climbed onto me and grasped my iron-hard prick. It was slippery with her juices and she fumbled around for a bit before getting it to her entrance and sitting down on me fully. I like this position because of the deep penetration and also because it's good for giving a woman an orgasm. It also means I can lie back while my partner does all the work. Now Elizabeth looked down at me.

'How do you want me to move?' she asked.

'Rub yourself backwards and forwards against me. Find the position that feels best.'

She was a bit tentative at first, seemingly unable to get into a rhythm. Then she found out how to rub her clitoris against my pubic bone and she was off, eyes glazed, hips bucking backward and forward, faster and faster, moaning and mewling, her arms behind her, steading herself with her hands on my thighs. Her second orgasm within twenty minutes hit her after only a few minutes. It was shorter, but more intense, she said later. Now she cried out loud, tears running down her cheeks, and collapsed across me. I held her for a few minutes, stroking her back, until the crying had stopped, then she got off me and lay down on her back again.

Now was the time to finish. I penetrated her hard and got into a rhythm of short, hard, fast thrusts. No kissing now, just raw fucking so that I could relieve the tension, could spurt my hot spunk into my mother's cunt. I didn't last long and made no attempt to hold back. As I started to orgasm, Elizabeth gripped my buttocks and dug her painted nails into the flesh; the sensation was exquisitely painful and I knew she was leaving marks on me. But I was beyond caring. I nearly greyed out as the orgasm crashed through me, a fitting climax to the most erotic experience of my life.

As the waves subsided, I opened my eyes and saw Elizabeth, underneath me, looking up and smiling nervously.

'Was that ok for you?'

'It was unbelievable. I literally have never experienced anything so powerful.'

Mum looked relieved, and pleased. I withdrew and she reached for the box of tissues on the bedside table, catching my semen as it leaked from her and ran down to her bum crack. That was another lesson she'd quickly learned. I lay down beside her and took her in my arms again feeling exhausted and replete. I also felt very tender and protective of this woman beside me who had given me such pleasure and given herself to me so unconditionally.

'Was it really that good?' she whispered to me, and I realised she was anxious about it, nervous that she might not compare well to a younger, more experienced woman.

'It was fantastic,' I whispered back. 'Really and truly. And do you know what?'

'What?'

'If it's like this the second time, can you imagine how good it's going to get?'

'Do you want to keep on doing it?' she asked, softly. I am sixty-two and not really very attractive.'

I needed to address this insecurity, if we were going to go forward and if Elizabeth was going to flower into the sexual creature that I hoped she would.

'A woman might be able to fake sexual arousal, but it's much more difficult for a man. Do you really think we could have done what we did just now without me being extremely aroused? I know you're sixty-two, and you're my biological mother, but it makes no difference to me. Let's just take each day as it comes. And, just for the record, you are highly attractive to me. In fact I've never been turned on before the way you turn me on. So no more worrying. I think we could have a wonderful, wonderful physical relationship.

'Oh Jack, I do hope so. This has been so good for me. So utterly wonderful. I never realised what a physical relationship could be like!'

'Had you had an orgasm before?' I asked, curious.

'Oh God, yes. I masturbate three or four times a week. It's nice, but it's not the same. Not by a long way.'

'Would you masturbate for me, one day?' I asked, pushing at the boundaries, curious as to what her response would be.

'Of course,' she said, matter-of-factly, 'if you'd like me to.'

'There are lots of things I'd like us to do together,' I whispered into her ear again and kissed her gently on the cheek. 'But I have to ask, Elizabeth, are you ok with us? We are committing incest.'

Before replying, she took her garter belt and stockings off, switched out the light and we slipped under the duvet.

'If I'm really truthful,' she said at last, 'the fact that we're committing incest is really rather exciting -- the forbidden fruit, I suppose. So yes, I'm very ok with it. And I look forward to it all!' she said, warmly. 'I feel as though I'm going through a fabulous sexual awakening and I can't wait for the next chapter. Will it really keep getting better and better?'

It would if I had anything to do with it, I thought as I drifted into sleep, my naked mother in my arms.

To be continued.