Deep Strokes

Mum cooed, blushed harder, both hands at her face now, cupping her cheeks as she consciously bucked her pelvis up against me. I only needed to see the first glimmer of moisture like a mirage in the heat before I was unbuckling my belt, taking a firm hold of my throbbing shaft and aligning my hard cock with her.

"Oh my god," she sobbed, and with a lust that seemed to rise from her gut, she took in the sight of me and blurted, "look at you... such a man!"

I bent down, letting my hardness nest against its natural destination and stooped down to plant a single loving kiss on my mother's lips and then watched her savour it in a way that, to my knowledge, she never had.

"Whose man?" I asked.

"My man," she answered immediately, her confidence now clearly on the up.

"God I need this so much," I whispered unsteadily as it seemed every cell in my body was supercharged, over-adrenalised.

"Yes, oh god yes," she frantically whispered her own dedication to the act of love to come.

In so few fluid motions I placed my knees either side of my mother's thighs, held her shins down in my strong hands, and fixated on our sexes pressed together in the ultimate kiss I mutually yawned into a silent primal cry as we fully sheathed together to begin our needy mating act.

So many likely stories, works of fiction all of them, justify the act of incest as an act of ultimate bonding and of love. I'd have loved for the first time, and for all I knew what could have simultaneously proved the last time, to have been a glorious celebration in honour of the very process that made us mother and son to begin with.

But beyond that first dip back into the gene pool of my origin, and without hesitation, I was fuelled by my mother's vulnerable whimpers as the dam wall of this sudden taboo sprung great leaks of sexual release.

Blatantly it had been so long since anyone had fucked her. So long. Of all the big hard dicks in the world that she could have invited home, it was her own son's. Spurned on by the intensity of it all, overwhelmed by the feel of her slickness, which offered no resistance, the lack of friction between us made for the rawest and most frantic sex.

I'd never felt excitement like it in my life as the wrongness of the act hit home. I sunk in with almost no resistance, then came back soaked, repeated the long slide back in, addicted immediately to the sensations of her maternal sexual nurture.

And the immense wrongness, it felt so good. Emboldened, empowered, the both of us, we gave in to the urgency of our actions, the electrifying eroticsm of those sensations, and we succumbed without a doubt between us.

And to the swift and consistent rhythm of that act, as her thick lips parted to suck me in, and as we both took every deep and delicious stroke for what it was, one word repeated between us in the secrecy of this shared moment.

"Yes," we said. "Yes," over again. "Yes, yes, yes!"

There was no knowing how long this was going to last. I was in a kind of sensory overload and so was she, and we were panting and sobbing against the deluge, her fat pussy enveloping me but unable to keep me locked in for all the sloshing and dripping I'd never imagined her capable of. A wetness that begged for more. So much more.

A matter of words drove us right over the cliff when she tore her eyes away from the desperate marriage of our sexes, looked me in the eyes, and with a cheeky smirk said, "better late than never, eh, my boy?"

Wait, what?

I had no time to consider such implications. I lost control just processing those words on the surface level. After that I went full steam ahead, clapping her cheeks hard as I thrusted away with animal abandon. Open windows on a main road, neighbours be damned, I fucked my mother like she had never imagined possible and she was suddenly urging me to get in deep and cum.

7.

All I remember after that first time was a mutual fever, delirium, and a lot of trembling as my spent cock remained buried inside my mum's quivering pussy. And a breathlessness that seemed to last forever as we gradually parted our awkward embrace and began to laugh at the unbelievable, the unspeakable - the undeniable!

I slid out, place the gusset of her knickers back over her mound, and patted her intimately. Contrarily all I really wanted was to go immediately for round two. I was so hard still that I fought to fasten my pants back up. I was so sex-driven and adrenalised that I might even turn feral and fuck the living daylights out of mum.

I didn't want to push her, not before we were both aware in agreement of our boundaries once the dust of this spent bombshell had settled. I didn't want to hurt her by letting go completely and becoming ruled by my urges.

Against all odds I was, in my mind, hoping to practice the impulse control of a devoted monk, which was realistically never going to happen. Not now that the figurative virginal hymen of such an immense and damnable taboo had been so wilfully broken in.

"Cup of tea?" mum offered. All I could do was laugh, and I was suddenly very aware that I did not at all feel like myself. I worried momentarily that I would now catastrophically mudslide into some kind of dual identity-existential crisis - as ruined as the innocence between my mother and I.

Thankfully that didn't turn out to be at all true.

8.

"Did you plan this?" I asked as we stood opposite each other at the breakfast bar in the kitchen. I was composing myself about as successfully as I was attempting to sip at my scalding hot tea without burning my lips.

We were still both blushing and smiling at each other shyly. I was still hard and heavy as a brick inside my pants. The levity in her body language and her post-sex glow, the upward curves at the corners of her lips, the knowledge that I had been the cause of this, just made me ache all the more.

Mum processed my question without complicating it for herself and again she shrugged. "How much do you want to know?" she asked me.

"What do you want to tell me?" I relented.

"I've had food for thought," she hinted vaguely, adding, "and, well, you needed no encouragement."

I blushed harder, pursed my lips, and forced myself to meet her gaze as I thought for an answer. Again I just laughed. She licked her lips, just stood there eyeing me up with more confidence beaming from her expressive eyes.

"Can I ask what this food for thought was exactly?" I probed, shifting on my heels.

"No," mum replied, trying not to giggle, "but if it helps, it just happened in the lliving room."

"Funny," I mock-chided, settling on the spot.

"Like I said, darling, you needed no encouragement."

"So you did plan it?" I backtracked.

"I didn't need to, did I?" mum teased.

I caved. "No, you didn't," I gushed, breaking the gaze to look at the floor. "You were amazing anyway, I really needed that..."

Her voice soft but certain, I heard her chortle under her breath before she responded by saying that I had done all the work. Then she assured, "we both needed it, and wanted it, and do you know something?"

"Hmm?" I summoned the courage to look her in the eyes once again, and felt comforted by the look in her eyes, her smile, her everything.

"I am so glad that happened."

She said that as though an immeasurable weight had been lifted from her chest. She had taken the mother of all gambles. It had paid off, by the bucket-load. I clearly visibly perked up and shucked off my aura of shame when those words hit home. Something between us clicked. I grew emboldened. "Me too," I said back, wondering what her response would be.

Gears were turning now, as though we both belonged to the same greater mechanism - something divine maybe - and I suppose we did.

It was not chemistry. That was something of another nature that I felt developing in the space between us. It might not have been the preexisting maternal love between us either. I was feeling energised beyond any experience I had lived in my four-plus decades, my senses heightened beyond the anima.

We were blood-bonded as closely as could be and in our carnal act we had created something like static. No, not static. An electrified magnetic field. Familial sexual magnetism. The yearning to become more, powered by the friction between our sexes.

As though my blood had called to my mother's, she set down her teacup and walked around the breakfast bar, arms wide open. We met and hugged each other in a firm loving embrace and pecked each other on the lips.

Just that was enough to be left wanting more. I pecked at her lips again and we held each other's faces in hand and laughed joyously.

"And do you know something else?" mum asked, gazing up close into my eyes.

"Hmm?"

"I'd like for that to happen again," she confessed, her eyes widening into shining saucers as her grin widened and bared her pearly white teeth. Her hands stroked my bare elbows and trailed up and down my forearms, causing the fine dark hairs to stand on end.

"If it doesn't, that's fine," she said almost whimsically, "but if you want it to..."

If it was possible, I grew harder. "Oh, well," I responded flippantly, "now that we've gotten that out of the way," I chuckled.

Still grinning, pressing herself into me now, mum flicked her eyebrows at me, hinting the obvious. Night would be drawing in soon. I wrapped my arms around her waist and pecked her on the lips once more for good measure, then said up close against her ear, "I'd be more than okay with that."

Into my ear she cooed her delight and squeezed me tighter, my blatant stiffness aching and throbbing against her belly, playfully whispering, "just how long have you felt this way about me?"

Trembling and with my heart pounding against hers, I confessed, "ever since my hormones kicked in," and blushed. I was again fighting to retain eye contact with my mother, who was seemingly becoming another woman entirely, or so I thought.

"A boy's mother is his first crush," mum teased, pinching one cheek before smiling ear to ear without restraint.

"Hardly just my first, you know!" I confessed.

"I know," was all she said for a moment as her eyes practically penetrated me. And then came the mother of all questions.

"So, do you fancy coming to bed and keeping this going?"

If she hadn't been clutching onto me with such possession, she'd have knocked me down. I looked down into her expectant eyes, her soft cheeks in the palms of my hands. With so much sexual tension already built up now, that one fateful question filled my gut with a weight of dead certainty.

9.

Have you ever had such a sexually intense experience that it felt unreal, almost spiritual? I've had some great sex partners in my youth. Sometimes as I got older I wished that I had half the virility that I did at the age of twenty. As I mentioned near the beginning, some wild fantasies took place in my mind - things I never imagined would see the light of day.

Speaking of back when I was twenty, there's a reason that number came up specifically. I was a part-time admin assistant at a well-known building society. It was my first decent opportunity while I was still at university. Her name was Barbara, she was 51, widowed, and I imagined she looked just like my mum might approaching the big five-oh. They were pretty much the same body-type, hair colour, eye colour, and similar in face profile.

I really liked Barbara and, yes, because she reminded me of my mum, except for the fact that as my days became numbered at the office Barbara started flirting with me and hinting, in so many words, that she wouldn't mind a nice vigorous lie down with a complimentary body. I only wished at the time that my mother showed any hint of being that way.

Barbara was my manager. We went out on a date least for the duration of four or five drinks, and then after some flirtation and overt caresses she invited me home and we had the most incredible sex I'd experienced so far.

All the while I was stunned and tongue-tied, speaking mostly through my actions, as I brought my mother's would-be stunt double to climax after climax. She was hard to quit considering that our fling lasted less than a month.

Now I was drinking from the holy grail itself, lapping at my own mother's dripping pussy to the music of her gasps and moans as her bare feet pressed down against my naked shoulders. Her sweet nectar and mine were a perfect perverted blend.

I could have laid there all night with my lips clamped over her plump mons, running the rut between her thick labia up to her stiffened clit, but her glorious mature form in all its nude glory was calling me to join her in what we both wanted more than anything else in the world.

Mum sat up on the thick bouncy mattress and ordered me onto my back, and I followed orders to to the letter when I knew what was good for me. There I lay, erect as I'd ever been, seven inches taller than my usual prone state, and witnessing in my impossibly aroused and aware condition as the greatest fantasy I'd ever kept secret enacted itself right before my eyes.

Mum saddled herself deep in my lap and treated us both to a seductively slow and slippery pole dance as I patted her curvaceous jiggling bottom with both hands and licked at her full bouncing breasts as they too danced before me.

I don't know how I didn't cum so soon, even though I had already blasted her cervix atop the recliner chair downstairs, but I wanted to and I was lost in the euphoria.

After an incredible cowgirl gallop that seemed to last forever I had to roll her over. Boring as it may be to veteran porn critics, I had fantasised about nothing more than breeding her in a mating press position for as long as I could remember.

Mopping the sweat from my forehead, I settled atop her and enjoyed the feel of her naked legs enveloping me, securing my place in her belly, and we exchanged those most anticipated words, assuring our love for each other.

I kissed her, again just a peck as we always had. There was ever so slightly something more to its out of place chasteness now that we were socketed together and coaxing each other to such forbidden orgasms.

Her pursed lips sinched mine so delicately in a way that barely hinted at the depth of her sexual desire but also reminded me that she was my mother and that I was still just her baby.

I began to plunge deeper, effortlessly gliding deep into her hot and plentifully lubricated love tunnel, pushing the air from her lungs with every sulty smack against her pelvis that my hips caused.

"Oh god, what are you doing to me?" mother moaned as I confidently slow-fucked her to her biggest climax yet.

"What I always fantasised about," I sighed into her mouth as I engaged us both in another sensuously chaste series of kisses. Her lips would quickly become a drug to me, and her role as my matriarch a fond but fading memory.

"Are you making love to your mum?" she asked, holding me to her breasts as skin made slippery friction upon skin. "Is that what you're doing, baby?"

"Mm-hmm," I hummed as thunder loomed, pounding in my temples, filling my ears. "Making you my girlfriend," I teased. "How does that sound?"

Mum said nothing, but assaulted my lips with hers with a new eagerness and this time with her own lips parted to make way for her darting tongue. Relentlessly I met her with those deep strokes, faster, harder...

It felt as though as soon as my climax tore through my body and spurted out through the tip of my rampant cock, it poured deep into my mother, through the ring of her cervix, where it became hers too.

I sheathed myself all the way, my mother's pussy wide open around me, contracting as she gasped and sighed the song of her own blissful release softly against my ear. "My man," she sobbed, wrapped around me in her entirety and proudly patting my trembling bottom.

"Such a man..."

10.

"I love you, mum," I told her again upon catching my own breath, seeking her lips to playfully smooch.

"Mmmm," she groaned, squeezing me affectionately. "Okay, yes I'll be your girlfriend," she then said and we held each other close and laughed. But in the growing silence we came to regard each other with awe and disbelief.

Oddly, or maybe not - I'm no Freud - moments later I found myself pondering my adult daughter, Tracy. If she ever found out...

Would she?

She adored her grandmother almost as much as I did, at least in the appropriate manner. Now here I lay, naked with my mother, the both of us bathed in sweat and the overwhelming seminal scent of sex. I'd had sex with my own mother, fucked her, made love to her... with her...

And there was a new closeness that didn't resemble the beginning of the usual mating ritual. She was still my mother first and foremost, but the bond had tightened.

We lay face to face, holding hands, caressing each others' nakedness, faces adoring, eyes filled with love and nothing else. With regret in her voice, mum inevitably noted that I was probably going to get dressed now and go home since it was late.

Withdrawing my hand from hers, I couldn't have helped myself if I'd tried, which I didn't in the slightest. I instinctively cupped a breast in the palm of that hand and just held it.

"Unless you have another round left in you before I go," I replied, to which she responded with the laughter of a woman who knew her man too well.