Candy Finds Her Son Handy & Dandy

If I saved it for the morning, I might (I certainly would!) get mom to have another cum with me and who knows where that might lead! I decided to let the moment go by and try my luck in winning a morning fuck, if she would let me. I said I'd take a rain-check and we fell asleep in each other's arms, just like that. It was lovely, but I had the wildest dreams, like the trippy movie we had viewed the night before, but the blond mother was also the Jill to my father/uncle Jack in the psychedelic mélange.

The next morning was Sunday. Had dad really been gone only forty-eight hours? So much had taken place with the incestuous intimacy that had blossomed between mother and me. I looked over at mom, who was still sleeping. Somehow in the night we had ended up the way we had started, spooning. My dick now was rising with morning woodie oak and pressing in the split of her bottom. I reviewed the things she had said to me and done with me over the short but eventful period.

I now knew why she empathized with my lust for her. She had shown an extensive knowledge of incest films. She exposing herself and then allowed our erotic contact several times, even to stimulating simultaneous orgasms. All the thinking led me in one direction. I had pondered, 'What about all the information she had provided about her sexual proclivities and her being horny? Was she giving me 'ammunition' for a reason, either consciously or otherwise? Was all this converging on a conjugal coupling?'

The answer had to be YES to the last question. Yes, to the middle as well, for why was she giving me the key to unlocking her chastity? 'I would never cheat on (your father). And I haven't either, not ever'. If that was so, didn't she want me then to unlock her lust and let out the lonely lady that wanted to be free and to frolic with her son, like she had with granddad? Conclusion? Mom wanted me to take her, even if she couldn't openly 'fess up to it out-loud or even admitted to herself consciously perhaps. She had made it clear as the window pane that let in the early sunlight, that she needed to have sex, was willing, even wanted to do it with me! Candy desired to be unwrapped, and her son was both handy and delighted to be the one to lick her and lay her, to be her new incestuous lover.

Mom began to do that clenching thing with her gluteus maxi-muscles, like half a hand job – length-wise – sort of. Anyway, that let me know that she was awake and in an amorous mood. I began the motion that was interrupted last night and she responded with her hips in counterpoint. That set the 'pecker protrudus' on a path down toward her 'vaginus slotorium'. What do they say about Latin-lovers? Obviously I was not a good student since I failed Latin; it was all Greek to me. But I wasn't doing any 'Greek' this a.m. either. I was hoping for a different hole for my pole. But just as the stiffy was sniffing the morning dew on the valley moss and getting close to a dip in the warm bath of mother's womanhood, she turned around to face me. Nuts! Blue nuts.

"What do you want to eat for breakfast?"

Groucho Marx was never given a better straight line for a double entendre. "Your muff-in, of course."

"That would be nice!"

"No, that would be good!"

"Good Lord! Morning?"

"What do naughty girls say in the morning?"

"What?" she giggled.

"Lord! It's good in the morning!"

More giggling, that ended when my mouth reached her nether parts and began to nibble on her nookie. "Ooo! That IS good! Am I Jill Claybourne?"

"Your Candy all grown up and now it's not daddy, its sonny."

"Its sonny on Sunday, and he's doing mommy in the morning. OoOHH! Yees! Just like that, oh, Lord! Here I cum! AHH! And she did, like a firecracker, simply went bang and had a sweet little orgasm right quick. But I didn't stop, that wasn't the idea to end the scrumptious munching on her muff, I hoped to feed her some sausage in a while, if she was willing. That is what I was aiming at. I was doing fine, and she was escalating her climaxes as they built one atop another. I knew she had to be reaching that critical mass point where the big bomb would be triggered and then she would beg for my manhood to make her complete and I would give in to her demands to be taken.

When the moment seemed to arrive, she stretched out her arms and pulled me up, saddling me between her thighs and wrapping her arms around me, deliriously kissing my face. Then her hands were clutching my ass and she was bucking her hips and making almost panicky gasps and gulps. My raging hard-on was sawing in the greased groove and mashing the clit. Edging down with every stroke closer and more centered, nearer and prodding deeper into the oily cavity that waited to be filled. I felt the dampness, it slicked the tip and the labia were parting. I put my tongue into her mouth and Frenched her to make sure she couldn't speak and object if she had last minute second thoughts and cold feet – or cool something more midway on her person.

DING-DONG! BANG! BANG! Bang, DING-DONG; bang bang bang! Who the hell was making a racket at our front door? Of course it broke the mood. "I'll get rid of them!" I said with a very irate tone. I was not going to be polite. Whoever they were, it was lucky for them we didn't own a shotgun! I grabbed dad's robe from the hook on the back of the door and struggled to put it on in time, before I opened the door and blasted whoever was so rude on a Sunday morning. Of all the times to pound on somebody's front door! I tied the robe just a moment before swinging the door wide, and was about to curse a storm at whomever it was.

It was the little girl from across the street, all in tears. As sad as one of those pity-paintings of the orphans with big dark eyes, the ones that make you go AWW . . and want to take them in, and give them cookies and milk and a good home? You know the ones I mean. "Have you seen my kitty, Fluffer-Nutter? She's missing and I'm afraid she's hurt or something! I looked all around the block and can't find her. She's been gone all night! Have you seen her?" I knew Fluffer-Nutter, well named for a long-hair white Persian with a quirky personality and a love of getting stuck in trees.

"No, Natalie, I'm sorry, I haven't seen your kitty, I'm sure she's okay. Cats don't get lost much; they come home when they're good and ready. Just give her some time. If you don't find her by noon, I'll help you go look, but you shouldn't be overly worried, Okay?"

With that reassurance Natalie went off to bang on the next neighbor's door. I closed ours and went back to mom's bedroom, but she had gotten up and put her gown on. She smiled and said, "Well, it seems that both you and Natalie are missing pussy this morning!" I didn't find the comparison funny. We moved to the kitchen, I sat down while she puttered around fixing breakfast. "Bacon?" That was not the porking I had wanted to do this morning. "I'm afraid the muff-ins are all eaten for the moment." Mom was rubbing it in and trying hard not to laugh, but she had to hide her face. I could hear little chortles escaping.

"I'd like an order of eggs-tasy, please."

"Sure, will that be hard-boiled, or sonny-side-up?"

"You almost got a fat sausage, what the English call 'bangers'."

"Yeah, about that. I'm afraid that I might have gotten carried away, this morning. My . . weakness was letting your willie wiggle it way into my womanly place. I was so wanton I was wantin' to do that; but maybe that would be going too far with my own offspring. You are going to have to be the strong one and remember your promise."

"Actually mom, while I said that I would never make you do anything you didn't want to, and that I would never harm you or hurt you. I didn't promise not to make you if you begged for it, nor do I think that you would be hurt nor harmed if I . . uh . . 'shot you with my friendly weapon'." The last a quote I remembered from some old movie with James Colburn.

"Still, that would be a problem, if we did have sex. Just like when I screwed your grandpa that one time. It has to be the best kept secret, and the temptation is very great to do it more than just once, which is a whole-nother kettle of fish!"

"Eel and snapper?" I quipped and this got a laugh. She poured me some apple-cider, putting the glass in from of me. "Is this the juice of the fruit of temptation?" I took a sip.

"Maybe, but you better keep that snake in your pants under control Mister, or the wrath of the Almighty might just toss you out of Eden on your ear!"

"I only got just the barest taste of paradise, with my snake. What I really want is a big bite of a Candy apple."

"Like these two?" Asked mom, and she came over and opened the top part of her robe. She thrust a breast toward my mouth and I latched on, sucking a nipple in my lips. "Mmm . . That is soo good!" she cooed.

I reached between the parted robe and ran my hand up her leg to her thigh, and then to the "demises that therein lie!" as Shakespeare put it in "Romeo and Juliet". I'm good at remembering the dirty parts of things I learned in school. What I was learning from mom might be titled 'School for Scandal'; and her demises were still a little slick from earlier, and as I fiddled and diddled they became dripping again. My mouth switched to the other breast as I opened my robe. I used my free hand to lift the back of mom's gown and then I turned her to sit on my lap facing me.

This clever maneuver had her bare bottom sitting on my exposed erection. While not aligned quite right this had me poking my renewed boner in close proximity to her slit as it stuck through the divide of her sweet derrière. Mom clutched my head and kissed the top. She gasped out, "Oh God, don't make it so hard on me, I want to, you know I do, but we can't, it wouldn't be fair to your father." But she rose to turn around and sat again, but so her back was to my face, and she was doing a lap-dance kind of wiggle; her bare bottom on my upright rigid rod, the juices coating the head of my hard-on and it was sinking up and slinking into that basin of sin at the center of her sex.

My two hands reached up and grasped her tits, the fingers and thumbs were twiddling the nipples trying to add the sensation to tip the balance in favor of our connecting. The copulation we both burned for, the sword I was thrusting seeking the scabbard she had, that was meant to sheath such an implement. "You are the one who is making you-know-what hard on me!" I countered her accusation. I knew she got my point, both the verbal and the fleshy one.

"Oh, yes! It is. Nice and hard!" She gave a sort of gasping trilled laugh as the head of my instrument found the cavity it was searching for and slipped in – I mean the whole plum of the purple bulb was engulfed within that honey pot of her vagina. I moved my hands from her breasts to the side of her hips to draw her down to as far as I could, and make the penetration as deep as the position would allow. But just as I was about to jam her rear with my beef stick, she popped up and turned to kneel before me, putting her mouth over the disappointed peter and sucking, gulping several inches of cock and her lips moved up and down as she brought the cum to burst out of my man-muscle like it was boiling over.

In a sense, that is exactly what took place; my prick was so hot and ready to cream. I probably wouldn't have lasted but a few strokes in her pussy, if I had gotten my dick in her, but I would have rather had the pleasure of that, though her oral treat was nice too. Mom looked up at me, licking her lips. "That was a close call, huh? Well I didn't want to give you a case of blue-balls, even though I got carried away and almost let you . . . do what my daddy did. But he did it because I begged him and we could not control ourselves. But we are not going to let that happen to us, are we?"

"Would it really be so terrible if it did? 'Cause frankly, I don't think I would mind that much if we transgressed once - - or twice, or may be three. ." Mom lightly slapped my still springy dick and shook her finger at me.

"Listen mister 'I-want-to-commit-incest-with-mommy'; I'm the mommy and I make the rules. And I say we can't go that far, because that is just too much of a mess to clean it up. 'Once the glass is tipped over, there is no getting all the milk back in', right?" she quipped. (This referred to an infamous incident in our family lore, where, as a very small boy, I had tried to get spilled milk back into the cup I had accidentally knocked over. My parents, witnessing my attempts to rectify this mishap, couldn't help themselves as they just sat there and laughed hysterically at my comedic antics. While now days I can look back and laugh also; ever since, the lesson has been proverbial when a 'Humpty-Dumpty' disaster happens to me.)

I realized I needed another approach, a different strategy if I was to get my mother – either willingly or by reason of loss of self-control – to allow me to make love to her, at least once. But once that line had been crossed, it would be easier to cross over it again, and again. Because you see, the other lesson I learned as a toddler tipping over milk glasses on occasion was; not that there was no use crying over spilled milk – nor all that much laughter either, save for that one time; but this lesson I also gleamed . . . mommy usually has more milk in the fridge, i. e. there is plenty in reserve if needed.

Thus if we did have an 'accident' and I 'spilled' my cream in her, mommy had more than enough reserves to satisfy my needs, and accidents do happen. I had spilled milk any number of times as I grew up, now that I was a grown-up boy, I knew that sometimes accidents happen on purpose! So – how to get mom to 'mess'-around with me again, to where we at last get to do what she and grandpa did? – that was the question.

I remembered that mom and I had talked about getting dad reinvigorated as far as their sex life went. That seemed a place I could start. I helped mom clean up after we had a light breakfast. While we were drying the dishes, I suggested that I would be happy to accompany her to shop and pick out a new 'wrapper' to use in enticing pop into an amorous frame of mind.

Guys, women love to drag their males along shopping, don't ask me why, but it seems to have a positive effect on their libidos. If you don't sulk, but are cheerful about being her companion, it often pays off in benefits that are both romantic and passionate! Try it, what have you got to lose? You can tape the game and watch it later, skipping the commercials . . meanwhile you can make a play for the lady you love!

So we went to the local Bloomingdale's and blew a bundle on a nightgown that had multiple layers. It was like the dance of the seven veils, to be strip-teased off her until the poor man who was the intended victim of her seduction was overcome with desire and became silly-putty in her hands. New perfume, appropriately dabbed in erotic places that the nose will be in proximity to when the mouth is busy being naughty. Easy access undies to give both ideas to the male of her choice and provide no barrier to the achievement of such dirty thinking put into action. Vanilla scented candles, who knew? - but you can Google it, it is the go-to smell for generating masculine lust. Wine, a fine rose', to release the inner beast in him; as long as you had a strong leash.

Of course. When we got home I asked mom to model the new lingerie. I had a bottle of her favorite white wine chilled and I had bought some lavender scented candles and put on a selection of music for a romantic mood. I told her it was a dry-run for when dad came home, but in fact, I was hoping to get her wet and worked up so that she was situated and stimulated for incest. The music was on and the goblets poured when she appeared. She was a vision, I must say.

Her long blond hair hung down her back. Her translucent pale yellow gossamer fabric of the filmy apparel made her look like an angel. Or some nymph from an illustration: fleeting laughing sprites, seductive waifs that traipsed through medieval forests. The kind which lure men into their beds and so their paramours become enchanted; in the morning it seems all a dream, until they discover that they have the head of a donkey, for men are such asses when it comes to beautiful women! I was enchanted, but the ass I was hoping to have was mom's. I was the one doing the seducing, and hoping for a night in her bed, that by morning my dreams might cum true! Even if it wasn't quite mid-summer.

Mother twirled and dance to the music, laughing and slowly the gauzy garments wafted away, one by one, until there were none and the golden girl spun and cavorted in her God given raiment. Finally, she ended with a whirl and wound up down at my feet, out of breath, but with a glow and gleeful that she had spun a spectacular choreography and most erotic striptease, totally impromptu, but with great artistry. She was flushed with pride and arousal from her extemporaneous and titillating Terpsichore.

I handed her a wine glass and she took a long sip. "Mom, if you weren't naked already, any guy that saw you do those beguiling moves would have to rip the clothes from you and ravish your body, he would be so bewitched by your beauty and gracefulness and sexy self." She let out a throaty and sultry laugh and took another gulp of wine.

But this time she spilled some, as she was still shaking from her exertions; and with her amusement, being pleased that she had accomplished the effect she has striven for. A little driblet rolled down between her breasts. I immediately leaned over and licked the droplets. "Delicious!" I exclaimed. Mother murmured her joy at my spur of the moment lapping and decided she wanted a little more and deliberately spilled a tiny amount more down her cleavage.

I went to my knees, to be at her level and slurped some more! She dipped a finger in the goblet and spread the beverage on one nipple. I suckled it clean, then she repeated for the other and so did I. She lay back and handed the amber libation to me. I dropped a small spill on her genitalia and ran my tongue quickly to catch the fluid.

Putting the wine glass out of the way I then began to make serious administrations with my lips and tongue to the labia and clitoris and all about those sensitive regions of her crotch. Suddenly mom gave a little scream. "EEK!! I'm sorry, babe! But I gotta pee!" and up she rose to her feet and sprinted to the toilet. Over her shoulder she called, "Bring the wine to the bedroom; I don't want us to get rug-burn!"

Well, that seemed to be a good sign of more intimate fun to come, so I quickly stripped right there and took the two wine glasses to the kitchen to replenish them and then quickly scampered into her bedroom. I heard the plumbing flush and she appeared as naked as Botticelli's Venus and even more luscious for her baby-doll looks and firm full bust.

She sauntered over and flounced on the bed. She rolled over to the glasses, taking one she lifted the wine to her lips and made a long sip, letting a little spill again down her front, accidentally on purpose! It trickled down the front - right to her pussy. "Now, where were you?" she asked in a flirting manner, put the goblet on the side and lay back. I went for the golden pelt that tufted from her mons and began my elaborate and steady assailing of her tender targets.

The wine left a small taste that added to her own intoxicating love liqueur. The soft flesh of her tissues; the labia, the clitoris, the pure pink grotto that led into her very body were my lips' playground. I swashed the moist mussy mess of genitalia with the tip of my tongue, like I was painting the petals of a delicate orchid. I slathered the color of love over the entire bloom of her sex.

Mother's hands were in my curls as she sometimes directed my attentions, and at other times simply caressed the scalp of her son that was providing the luxurious lapping at her female erogenous zones. Her "Yes!"s and "OHH!"s and "There!"s, her sighs and moans and mews were the most beautiful music to my ears. How I loved pleasuring her, it was both art and worship at once. She gave herself to me, to do as I wished, and all I wanted at the moment was to give her all the joy I could offer.