Brian's Loss Pt. 02

I laugh, "Oh no, don't confuse the desire to have better sex with intelligence. Two different brains working there."

Mom looks at me wantonly, "Tonight, I am a grateful customer that's married and just wants to have fun with a young stud. Come to me, baby."

She can say anything she wants; I still know this is my mother. We both know that technically, this is illegal. My parents are about as conservative as they come. This surprises me that she has been interested, and she is the one taking the lead. Like many guys, we are close to our mothers. That doesn't mean that we dwell on it and think it will happen.

I already know I will do this as much for her benefit as my own, as I love my mother and sex. I suspect this will be better than the average girlfriend because mom means more to me. On the other hand, I can't be as wild and experiment as much. I don't think mom is ready for some light BDSM.

I dive in, headfirst. I need more room; I spread her legs a bit. Damn, mom prepped for me; she shaved her bush. I had seen and felt her muff when she slept in my bed; this is all new.

Mom says in a low sexy voice, "I know you eat pussy. I enjoy it better when I am clean. Rather than your tongue hitting hair, it touches my sensitive skin. Ooooooo. That is sooooo much better."

I am like an old dot matrix printer; I go straight in and then move to the right, pushing forward with my tongue. When I can't go any further, I do a carriage return and go back to the far left. Each run-through, I might change to humming, or using my whiskers. I can also mix in doing circles, maybe even big "Os," or even doing vertical lines. Anything I can do to add variety. As I move across, I add or remove intensity. Occasionally, I will rush through or slow to a crawl.

Because this is different, most women aren't expecting it. Even though I do the same thing as other men, my style is unique. If my style isn't special enough, then the speed and intensity make it so.

On my third time going across, mom screams out, "OH MY GOD! What are you doing to me!"

Yup, that's typical. Soon mom will roll away from me or say, "Stop," if she can. Mom rolls away from me, so predictable. I pull back and allow her to catch her breath. Mom is laboring to breathe.

I sit back on my heels and catch my breath. I swear mom had a dozen orgasms. It seems like they were rapid-fire. I can see why dad allowed this; she has needs. It's too bad dad doesn't eat mom to orgasms. Even if he can't get anything else, he can give her pleasure. Bad daddy.

I smirk, I can see me instructing dad how to eat mom. THAT would be a weird conversation.

Mom rolls back over, and she has a magnificent smile on her face.

Mom says to me in a deep sexy voice, "That was incredible. Awesome. Truly astonishing. I see why girlfriends stayed around so long. I was embarrassed because you made me orgasm so easily. Your dad will eat me from time to time. However, he doesn't have the enthusiasm that you do. Damn, that was worth the price of admission, and we're not even to the main event yet."

I smile big as I say, "Language, mom."

She reacts with a half-grin on her face. She does look adorable in this position and with that grin on her face. She had a ton of fun; her hair is wet from sweating. The orgasms took their toll on her. She isn't complaining one bit; she had a blast.

I move forward and stop with my cock touching her lips, waiting to slice her open. She looks happy and at ease with our positions. I half expected her to be nervous due to me being her son. That isn't the case at all. I am nervous. I am having second thoughts. Should I do this? I did fuck MaryAnn just yesterday. We aren't dating, though. As she said, we scratched an itch.

I plunge forward at a slow and measured pace. Dad and I must be similar, no new ground is broken, and she isn't tight like many young women are. She is horny, she has excess fluids, and she loves the feeling of me slipping into her. I pause.

Mom says to me, "Oh, Brian. That feels wonderful. I love how you feel in me; it brings back lots of good memories. Be gentle; I am out of practice."

I am slow as per her wishes. This is new for me. Oh wow, this is incredible. Typically, I go fast, and shoot. In less than five minutes, I can go again and last fifteen minutes. Then I can go twenty minutes before I am done. This changes everything. I feel like I can go on forever. This is easier on my arms, back, and breathing. It may be an issue for my knees in some cases, but on the bed, it's soft and should be no issue.

Mom is like a wildcat. She is twisting her body right, then left, then right again. She is making plenty of noise, grunting, saying "oh," and screaming randomly. For me, the feeling is amazing. Is it the slow fucking, or is it mom? I love the way my cock is sliding in and out of mom. I can roll my hips in a nice even, symmetrical motion. That's both easy on the body and makes my strokes more consistent which I find desirable.

Previously, each stroke was me moving my body; but with the rolling, it's like a flywheel. Once it's in motion, it prefers to stay in an even motion, making me a machine. As a machine, I am consistent, precise, and powerful. I had no idea I could learn so much from my mom just by a simple command. Will that be a problem with MaryAnn?

After thirty minutes, mom starts questioning me, "Brian. It's been thirty minutes. Are you okay?"

No shit, she can talk.

I reply with a labored breath, "I am fine. I discovered rolling my hips, and I can do this seemingly forever."

Mom is stern with me, "You need to work on your conditioning. Soon you'll get cramps. I want you to speed up and end this as soon as you can. I am not going to hurt you."

I can only assume mom knows best. She hasn't led me astray yet. My legs are stiff now that I think about it. I had totally zoned out and was enjoying the feeling immensely. I pick up the speed significantly. It takes a while; it's hard when you have been used to a pace for so long. Your body wants to continue at the same rate, muscle memory they call it.

I take command of my body and break the cycle; I am back to deliberate thrusting in and out. I use more force, more energy, but I can go faster and with more purpose. Mom loves this. She can't relax; she works hard to stay still and to catch her breath. Even with all that going on, the smile is just incredible on her face. It tells me everything I need to know. She has tears of happiness in her eyes.

I am feeling the cramps that mom was talking about. No shit, she was right. I am at my maximum speed. Mom looks like she could go on forever. I'm not quite in control of my body. My orgasm is rushing up on me. I know the signs and the feeling that it will soon be over.

I have mind games I play with myself to distract my orgasm. Nothing is working this time. I am fucking my mother; that overrides everything. My release is imminent. I slow down so I can speak.

Using a rushed voice, "I love you, mom. I hope this is what you wanted."

With saying that, my orgasm arrives. I enjoy the thrill of the massive orgasm rush through my body. Endorphins are having a short-lived party, and my body spits out six good ropes of my sperm. Each shot is an exaggerated thrust to verify mom knows what I'm doing.

Of course, she knows, she can feel it. Okay, maybe... she can feel it. As I orgasmed, she did as well. Mom is a screamer. Now that isn't exactly news, though. We all have known every time our parents had sex. For us, it was good news. It was sausage and eggs for breakfast rather than a bowl of cereal.

This is the first time I have been so close and heard it with almost no separation. Mom has a big set of lungs, and she knows how to use them. After the scream, she relaxes on the bed. Her eyes follow me, and it looks like she wants to speak, but she can't... not yet, at least.

I am weak and unsteady. My knees hurt, and one leg is on the verge of a cramp. I fall over and immediately straighten it. Oh, that feels goooood. We are both making noise, trying to breathe enough. My heart is beating a thousand beats a minute. This was far different from the clients and my girlfriends.

Mom is still laboring for her breath, but still asks me, "So, was it any different than the vampiric girlfriends or tramp customers?"

I take a minute more to catch my breath.

I respond with a big smile, "Oh, you might say that. You made it different. Your experience to make me slow down, and the fact that I inherently love you where the others were all just for fun. I never cared for them like I do you or MaryAnn."

Mom seems surprised, "Oh, you love MaryAnn? That seems quick."

I expected that answer.

I am open with mom, "She fills a hole that I have. She is great with the girls. We both have needs, and we finally scratched our itches. She's pretty, fun to be around, can cook, and doesn't suck in bed. Her big asset is that I can marry her. I know, way too soon for that; time will tell.

"Holly was easy; I knew immediately we had a future. MaryAnn is different; I have known her for a few years but never saw her in this light. She typically dated managers."

Mom looks at me inquisitively, "That's unusual, only managers? Oh, come on. A whole company of studs and she only dates managers? There must have been dozens of beefy and sexy employees."

I reply, "Nope, I'm the first. My story hit her hard. It's why she quit her job."

I can see mom wanting to say more; but she bites her tongue and says no more, at least, not yet. When the time is right, she will tell me. She never could resist me. I had no idea it went this far, though.

Mom is worn out. She doesn't want to move or talk. I don't have that same problem, although I, too, am worn out.

I strain to speak more than a whisper, "Wow, mom. You wore my ass out. That was new for me. I've never had sex like that before. Thanks for showing me."

Mom laughs much harder than I would have expected, "Oh, you, young people. Think you know everything, when in fact, you know nothing. It takes a lot of blood, sweat, and tears to become an old person. The weak ones are removed by nature; us left, we are the hearty and smart ones."

I add, "And the ones that enjoy great sex."

All of mom's happiness dissolves, "Well, no. Not really. That's why I am here. I will admit, we aren't typical. Normally, your dad goes for another decade or two. Evolution is edging him out; I just took the new model out for a test drive. You were adequate."

I try to sound sad, "Oh. It's okay, I don't want to disappoint you. I will experiment on MaryAnn."

Mom laughs, "That won't help. You're missing the point. Your father has what, twenty-eight years' experience pleasing my body. He knows every square inch of my body and how I will respond to various stimuli. You missed hundreds of opportunities to make the experience better. On the positive side, you are so handsome with those muscles rippling; you lasted a long time, and you shoot a huge load. That was a special feeling having all that liquid in me, sloshing around in there."

I roll to my side. Mom rolls towards me, leaning her back into me. I wrap her in my arms. She falls asleep purring like a kitten; that's pretty awesome.

Chapter 11 -- Carrie

Point of view: Brian

Three weeks later, a Friday night, I have my three angels all bundled up and ready to go. I'm surprised when three cars pull into my driveway at the same time. The first car, I'm expecting, it's Holly's parents. They want the babies for the weekend. The second is Carrie; I thought she was working tonight. The third is a woman I don't know, although it soon is apparent that she is friends with Carrie.

I step outside to greet Mark and Linda. They both want to squeeze the life out of me. Linda is crying. Carrie is surprised to see Holly's parents here. She runs at them, and they all hug. Carrie's friend stays to the side and smiles at us.

Carrie waves her friend over, "This is Dr. Mary Passat. She's a good friend of mine and wants to see the children. She is a pediatrician, one of the best in the country. I had hoped to beat Mark and Linda. Are you two in a rush? Do you have time to stay and have her give the babies a look over? We won't take long."

Linda made the decision, "Don't let us stop you. Can we watch?" She looks at Mary. "We're Holly's parents. We are taking all three for the weekend."

Mary seems quite happy with that, "Great idea. It will help them later in life if they experience other houses and family pets. So, let's see what we have here. Oh my. I can see it already. I bet Holly looked like her mother; they will all take after Holly. They got their chin and nose from Brian. These babies are going to be good-looking young ladies. Let me listen to them a bit."

She spent an hour listening to their hearts and stomachs. She touched them, blew air on them, pushed on parts, and pulled on others. She gave them quite the workout. I bathed them since they're naked before getting dressed, and I got a few safety pointers. This lady is good.

When done, and all the babies are bathed, clothed, and checked out, she gave them all a clean bill of health. No issues, they're all healthy and doing well. She would like to see a bit more weight, but that's nothing serious. She verifies Mark and Linda know how to install the car seats, and we load them all up.

As we are waving goodbye, Mary tells me, "You, my friend, are in for a lot of trouble in about thirteen years. Once those women start blooming, they are going to be very sexy. Boys will be camping in your backyard. Do you have a security system?"

I chuckle, "I sure do; in fact, mom just had it upgraded. She is very protective of those three."

Mary smiles, "Yes, I would be too. Go change and get your coat. Carrie promised to pay for dinner and has allowed me at least one dance with you tonight." Now she whispers at me, "Don't tell her, but I'm going to take at least two."

Mary has a very spacious Mercedes Benz; it rides like it's floating on air. The soft jazz is like they are playing in the back seat. It's a far cry from my Ford F250. She can't haul sheets of plywood, two-by-fours, or pull a trailer; I won't be swapping any time soon.

In no time at all, we are downtown at a fancy restaurant. It's a nice place. We all order a steak and baked potato with grilled vegetables. We share a nice bottle of wine, and the talk is mainly about politics at the hospital. Talk does eventually get to me, and then MaryAnn.

Mary drills me on how I am coping with Holly's death and seems to accept my answers. The place is popular and busy, which means it's also crowded, and we are close to other tables, making it hard to talk about much. I understand that they want to seat more people; that's more money. However, when they stack people like the airlines, I won't be back.

The car is with the valet. We walk a few blocks to a bar which isn't your typical blow your eardrums out bar. This is a laid-back, easy listening bar where you can actually talk to the person you're with. We each order a drink, casually drink it, and talk about my work.

The moment my glass is empty, Mary gently takes my hand and walks me out to the dance floor. She puts my arms around her while she drapes her arms around my neck. She leans forward to kiss me. Her legs turn soft, I hold on to her tight.

Mary comments, "At the hospital, we work long hours. The work is constant and fulfilling. Our love life is the only part of our life that suffers. Your sister sets me up on a blind date with a stud dripping with muscle and yet kind and soft-hearted. I was positive you didn't exist. I am leery; why is Carrie telling me? Are you an ax murderer? She offers to come with me, so I agree.

"About half-way to your house, I figure out where we're going. She had said to bring my scope. Then I remember you have young triplets. They really are near perfect. I decided to see the three angels; your sister talks so much about them, I was hooked. Then you meet us at the door. My eyes almost fell out of the sockets. I had to meet you."

I add, "I had no clue that either of you were coming. I had a free day and was thinking of a movie or something. The problem is that it all reminds me of what I did with Holly, and then I sit at home. This is nice."

Mary giggles, "Yeah, I figured this was part 'get me laid' and part 'unhinge your life.' I get it. If I were in your shoes and that far in love, it's hard to accept the new reality. This is good for you tonight. Carrie really loves you. It's all we hear about at work is you and your daughters. After meeting them, they are every bit as cute as described."

No twirls, dips, or dunks. Nope. Mary wants to be in my arms and as close to my body as she can be.

Mary whispers in my ear, "In a bar, it's not uncommon to feel your partner up a bit and grind your parts. It's sexy."

I laugh at her, "Sorry, I can't turn this off. This is the real me. I believe you should always treat others with respect without pressuring them. You're a nice woman; I won't treat you like a whore. You want to have fun; we will do that at home. I won't share you with all these people."

Mary kisses me hard. I see tears in her eyes. I won't ask, but there is a story there.

A while later, I feel a finger tapping my shoulder. It's Carrie. Mary looks sad but walks back to our table with two purses in hand.

Carrie asks me, "Can you dance?"

I won't dignify that question with an answer; she knows Holly loved to dance. I had to take several classes before she would dance with me. She was correct; I sucked.

Carrie smiles, "Okay, let's see what you can do."

Previously, we were just drifting aimlessly. Now, there is zero doubt that I am driving. I snap her into a spin at the end of my reach. As I pull back, she is off her feet, flying across my body. I use both hands to pull her to me. One leg around each side of me. I spin quickly, and people spread out to watch. Now we can really show off. I flip her up and over, planting her on my opposite side. That moves into a spin where she lets go of her arms. I grab her waist and spin us in circles tightly. I change the angle so, on one end, she almost hits the floor, and the other is way over my head.

It's cool. I slow that down, and the momentum allows me to throw her in the air. She falls into my arm. I flip her over, legs in the air, the skirt falls, showing her panties. That falls into her walking again, followed by me snapping her back to me while spinning. Our feet go together, our arms at full length, and we rotate again, looking across at each other. We both break out of that into different spins. We stop facing each other.

Two steps together, and my arm is around her while our other arms are held in a classic dance pose. Now we amaze people with our intricate footwork. Most couples are slow in circling the dance floor. Right now, we are almost running, yet each step is four taps of the foot in a standard pattern we have memorized. Both of our feet are moving at a fantastic speed that is astonishing to watch. I have seen the video, and even I don't believe it. It's noisy, making all those taps, and darn hard work.

We finish up by doing a quick twirl, and then I toss Carrie into the air. At the last second, I catch her, and we both freeze with wide-open arms. There is about a one-second delay where people are just too amazed at what they just witnessed. Then they erupt into a thunderous applause.

Instantly, people rush us to shake our hands or to hug us. They don't know what to say. We hear a lot of "Can you believe that?" and similar comments. We quickly make our way back to our table, where Mary hugs both of us. She can't talk; she wants to ask how.

Carrie helps her out, "My senior year of high school, I entered the talent show. We practiced a ton. That's the first time Brian really touched a woman. It's the first time I touched a muscular man. We both enjoyed it way too much. Grandma was a dancer; she coached us. I had never seen her so proud."