Do I Wake Or Dream?

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Son helps widowed mother begin new life.
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syrensong
syrensong
51 Followers

My father was killed in an accident two years ago. He was a geological engineer, working for one of the major oil companies. and was frequently on site in many different areas of the world to provide advice on the current drilling results. At that particular time he was in Venezuela, and in company with three others, crashed in a helicopter. It took several days to find them in a mountainous area, but they were heavily loaded with fuel and the wreck was still burning when they did so.

My parents were married quite young. and I was a honeymoon baby! My birth was a difficult one, and my mother was advised not to have any more children. My father had a very good career, my mother was trained as a legal secretary; we had a comfortable life, a beautiful home and all was well with our world.

My parents were happy and contented with each other, and I cannot remember any serious disputes that threatened our home. My father was a very practical handyman and taught me the essentials of car repairs, home maintenance and the value of money. As an only child I could so easily have been overly indulged, but having come from a poor family himself, my father would not permit this to happen, and it was this seeming hardness that was the cause of the only minor friction between my parents.

I did not like it either, since, whilst my friend's parents bought them all the toys, bikes, cars etc, I had to work for mine! From an early age I had to earn all that I wanted by cutting the grass, cleaning the yard, washing the cars and fixing the house. I have never ceased thanking my father for this training, and the awareness he instilled in me of the importance of self-reliance.

At seventeen I lost the anchor of my life; I will not dwell on the catastrophic effect it had on my mother, who had lost her reason for living at the age of thirty-eight. I persuaded her to move away from so many reminders of the past, and begin to live again in a new house and a different location. At first she was reluctant to leave the place where had been so happy, but with the aid of her friends, I finally persuaded her.

A word about her friends, Beverly and Valerie. They were at school together, cheerleaders together, swam and ran together, and had maintained a close friendship through the years. They all married in the same year and I grew up thinking of them as aunts. Both are now divorced, childless, and have condos. My mother decided to buy a similar unit in the same area since this was convenient to the local university where I wished to study engineering.

The three of them are the same age, forty, still run and swim together. and have recently joined the local golf club. They all look terrific, are blonde, slim, medium height and always excite my friend's compliments when they see them separately or together. For several years, I have fantasized about my two 'aunts' in a way quite natural to a healthy nineteen year old young man. They in turn tease me about my love life in a way that excites me even more, particularly when the three of them are together. I frequently do little repairs at their condos, on their cars to minimize their expenses and they are most affectionate with their hugs and kisses of appreciation.

They always seem to be wearing very revealing clothes or dressing gowns when I go their homes and I invariably finish up with an erection. I am certain they have felt it press against them at the final goodbye thank you hug. This obviously does not deter them, since the clothes appear to become more seductive and the hugs tighter and longer. I have often wondered about making some more positive response, but if this gave offence and resulted in my mother loosing a lifelong friend, I would never forgive myself and I would not risk my mother's present calm.

Now, at nineteen, I am just under six feet and one eighty-five pounds. No jock, but I like boxing and am in the University boxing team at middleweight. With weight lifting and training, I look pretty good and am fairly popular with the girls. Being a competent mechanic, I work part time at our local service station so that I am not a burden on mother, who, with her part time work as legal secretary, widows pension and the generous insurance settlement from my father's employers, is financially secure.

My mother leads her own life; no other men, though I wager many have tried. I, in turn, do the same, and with my studies, training and boxing, do not have much time for other diversions. I have dated, and am no longer a virgin. I love the girls but find them too demanding in their needs for commitment. My mother has shown some concern for my lack of serious female company, but I have reassured her that this is not that I don't like the girls, it is just that I do not want any serious relationship at this stage. This appeared to satisfy her, and I now come back to the teasing from my 'aunts'.

I have, however, also become more aware of the hello and goodbye hugs and kisses from my mother. Very natural to an only son, but their effect on me is becoming increasingly more disturbing. I can appreciate her wishing to hold someone strong and on whom she can depend like her husband, but pressing her soft, warm, delectable body against mine is having the same effect as that caused by her friends; I get an uncontrollable hard on. And this with my own mom! I try to keep some space between us, but she hugs me as hard as she can, and there is no way she can not feel it pressing against her because I can feel the pressure on my cock, which only increases the size of my erection.

I have a respectable size penis which, though not in the major league, has provided audible sounds of satisfaction from a couple of girls without any subsequent discomfort. I can usually maintain a steady, full stroke performance for sufficient time to provide a shuddering climax for my partner, before achieving orgasm myself. Both girls are happy to go out with me and we enjoy each other's physical attentions without any promises or commitments.

Saturday, I returned home after spending an evening with several friends at a movie and burger house; I saw mom's car in the drive and the light in her bedroom, so I knew she was home from her golf with her friends. I went up to my bedroom, showered, donned my usual shorts and paused at my mother's bedroom door to say goodnight. Before I could knock, I heard some slight subdued sounds, and it took a few moments to identify them as sobs. My mother was crying.

I tapped, waited a couple of moments for her to answer, then walked in. She was standing by her dressing table, holding a photo, and trying to compose herself, but the sight of her drove all else from my mind. Through the years I have seen my mom dressed in every conceivable way, from stylish dress to brief bikini, but I had never seen her like this before. She was wearing the most alluring nightie imaginable, soft pink, form fitting, low cut, short mid thigh length, sheer, diaphanous, semi transparent, revealing all and showing nothing. A masterpiece of intrigue and a tribute to the dressmaker's art.

I knew that she was a beautiful and desirable woman, but I had never really seen her this way before. I and felt an immediate arousal and with wearing only boxer shorts, it was very obvious to the most casual glance. She looked at me with tearful eyes, held out her arms and held me close as I came to comfort her. She was holding a photo of her and my father, and I suddenly realized that it was their wedding anniversary. I also remembered them joking about a Christmas present to my mother which was actually a present from my father to himself!! I did not understand the allusion at that time, but seeing her thus, the description was most apt.

I gently kissed her cheek and she returned the kiss in a manner not previously displayed. She pulled herself tightly against me so that my erection pressed hard into her. I could feel her hard nipples against my bare chest and the full length of her glorious body outlined down mine as she tried to pull me closer, causing my erection to achieve an even greater size. At this stage I could no longer control my overly stimulated urges, and I began to run my hands up and down her back, going lower each time, until I grasped her rear and pulled her to me.

She moaned gently and returned the pressure, seeking to open my mouth with her tongue and when I did so, explored my mouth with increased passion. I reached down, eased my hands under her nightie, and gently ran them up her bare back. She quivered as I slid them round till I could feel the swell of her breasts, and she eased her body away to give me full access. I slowly cupped them, squeezing and fondling them, and as I rolled her nipples between my fingers she gasped with pleasure, pushed my shorts past my hips onto the floor, and, with a sigh of intense relief, used both hands to grip and stroke my throbbing, rock hard cock.

" I have been going crazy with the need for the feel of a man on top of me and his cock inside me." she whispered in a shaky throaty voice. " Fuck me Ric, please, fuck me now." She began to turn towards the bed, so I scooped her up into my arms; all one hundred and twenty five glorious, quivering pounds of her, carried her over and laid her there. She lay there, looking up at me and I climbed over her between her legs, lowered myself on to her, supporting most of my weight on my arms, and began to kiss her breasts, cheeks and lips. She widened her legs and drew up her knees to the point where I could feel my cock pressing into her pussy.

" Put your full weight on me," she ordered." I want to bear all of you. Don't worry, I won't break."

She held my cock, rubbed it against her and I could feel the moisture of her arousal as she found her pleasure button and guided the head into herself. I pushed slowly, firmly, and felt myself entering her body. She tensed, gave a deep sigh of relief and pleasure, relaxed and pushed against me to encourage me to continue. I did so, and with a series of short exquisite

thrusts, I was fully within her soft, warm, silky sheath.

" Now," she gasped, " as hard and as fast as you can." With that urging, she wrapped her legs around me, her arms around my neck and her tongue as far into my mouth as she could reach.

At this stage, I was so overwhelmed by the sensations of unbelievable pleasure that I was experiencing, that I almost lost control and wanted to pound into her as hard as possible to achieve my own selfish climax. But, with a considerable effort, I restrained myself to attempt to bring her to completion first. I began to stroke her with short thrusts, increasing both the speed and the length, and by putting my hands under her hips and pulling her closer, achieved the maximum penetration. Her breath became ragged, moaning and whimpered into my mouth at each thrust.

She began returning my movements with increasing vigor, writhing and twisting with each increase in rhythm, until she began to shudder and shake, and with a heart wrenching groan, went into an all consuming orgasm. She thrashed and jerked so violently that I had difficulty in continuing my stroke, but continue I did, for I had not reached my zenith. I slowed and waited for her to recover, but she dug her fingers into my back, placed her feet flat on the bed and urged me to continue by opening her legs as far as possible.

I responded by fucking her as forcefully as I could for I was now crazy to reach my own orgasm, ramming my full length into her in an increasing crescendo of short strokes. She cried out at each violent insertion, but tightened her arms around me and arched her back to offer me greater access and encourage me to continue. I began to feel that most thrilling, all consuming. sensation which proceeds orgasm, and at the same moment I became aware that she was beginning to quiver and gyrate, signaling her incipient climax. I had now reached that point when nothing else mattered other than my cumming, and I exploded my whole being into her spasming depths as I realized that by some miracle we had come together.

Our combined groaning and muted screams went unnoticed by us, as I pumped everything I had into her receptive, demanding body I until I had nothing left; I slumped onto her with my now softening cock still deep within her. She lay quiet, still shaking slightly from her second orgasm, and, stroking my back with her nails, held me tight and kissed me in a loving tender fashion.

Thinking my weight might be causing her some discomfort, I made to move away. She held me fast, whispering." No, stay as you are. It's been too long a time since I felt a man inside me and I want to enjoy it for a while. Just relax, support some of your weight on your arms but do not leave me. I can't remember the last time I felt this good and I want to just rest and let this sense of peace linger for a while."

I, too, was content to simply lie there and luxuriate in the warmth of her body and the velvet glove that enveloped me. I snuggled my face against her cheek and began nibble her ear and caress her neck and throat with the tip of my tongue. I could detect a subtle change in her body. Her whole being seemed somehow softer, and her skin a smoother silkier texture without any hint of tension or conflict. I moved a very little within her, wishing to explore and extend the quite incredible comfort provided by her velvety tunnel; as though giving me an answer, she began to squeeze me with her inner muscles.

Nothing had quite prepared me for this supremely erotic stimulation and I found myself becoming hard again. I heard her giggle and continued to massage me until I was once again totally aroused. I looked at her and could see her smiling. She pulled my lips down to hers where even those had gained this remarkable velvet texture, and, brushing her tongue over mine, she arched her back, held my ass and pulled me to her.

Needing no further invitation, I began to fuck her again. This time I tried to exercise some control, wanting to prolong this wonderful pleasure as long as possible and to try to achieve mutual satisfaction. I think she sensed what I was attempting to do, for although she responded energetically, she allowed me to set the pace. I began slowly, with full length strokes, gradually increasing the rhythm whilst decreasing the withdrawal, so that at that stage I was fully into her. I knew that if I maintained that pattern the pleasure was so overpowering that I would not be able to control myself and I could feel that she was also on the edge.

I slowed the activity and thought I heard her give a slight indication of disappointment, though at that stage we were both moaning and gasping so loudly I could not be sure. I repeated the process more gradually until, reaching the final full insertion I could no longer wait to gain my release. I pulled her violently to me and positively slammed myself into her, hard and fast, with no other thought than to gain my own selfish goal.

She began to scream, from pain or pleasure I neither knew nor cared, for my only concern was my own need, and as I began to cum with greater power and volume than I had known before, I felt her shuddering and bucking beneath me. I was totally spent and rolled over onto my back, waiting for my breathing and racing heart to return to normal. She was still making little sounds and it was only when I regained my composure that I realized she was actually crying.

I was immediately overcome with fear that my last brutal assault had hurt and upset her. Leaning over, I looked at her tear stained face, imploring, " Bess, I am so sorry if I hurt you, but you caused such an all consuming need in me that I lost all control. Please forgive me. Having gained you in this special way, the thought of losing you as a result of my own inconsiderate behavior is unthinkable."

She was still trembling and, taking a deep breath to still herself, she opened her tearful eyes, smiled at my worried face and said in a weak breathless voice,

" Oh Ric, my dear, dear boy, these are tears of happiness, tears that I have been longing to shed for these many months, tears of frustration for the times of sleepless nights and the lack of my man to share my bed. Yes, you did hurt me slightly, but a woman enjoys that kind of pain when it is caused by love and passion with the man she loves. Yes, I will forgive you if you promise to do one thing for me."

" Anything, or, at least, anything other than not being permitted to love you again. That I could not promise with any certainty." I replied, not knowing what to expect.

She pulled my head down to her, kissed me, traced her tongue across my lips, put her lips to my ear, and in a small voice, quaking with suppressed laughter, whispered seductively; "Promise me that you will be capable of doing that whole performance again, and that you will go deeper and prolong it much longer!!" She laughed out loud, slid out of bed and went into the bathroom. She emerged a few minutes later with a warm damp cloth and proceeded to clean and dry me. She was naked, irresistibly beautiful and completely at ease with me in this way. I, in turn, was still so enervated that even the delicate touch of her hands on me could not generate any reaction. She again lay down by my side, took me into her loving arms and looked deeply into my eyes.

"I know there is much we must talk about but it can wait until the morning. All that I care about at this moment is because of you I feel better than I have for a very long time. The crushing load of frustration and repression has gone and I feel that I am floating on air. I know that tonight I shall sleep soundly for the first time for months."

She turned round and spooned herself into me, took my hand and placed it between her legs, my other she pulled around her shoulders onto her breasts. She wriggled her backside against me until she had my limp depleted cock nestled between her cheeks, leaned herself against me, sighed contentedly and was asleep in a few minutes. My mind was in such turmoil, trying to absorb the events of the past couple of hours, that sleep eluded me for what seemed an eternity. Being pervaded by that delicious sense of post coital satisfaction and the nearness of her smooth warm body, I slept. Or did I? Or was it all a dream?

I awoke to the not unusual condition of an early morning hard on, but with one very significant difference. The hand holding it was not mine. I opened my eyes to the most marvelous sight of my mother, on her side, bare breasted, head propped up on one hand while the other held my cock.

" Good morning lover." she smiled. " We should be getting up on this fine morning, but first there is something I really must do, so stay there just a moment." Puzzled but curious, I complied, She went into the bath room and returned with her razor, hot water, cream and her skin lotion. She pulled back the sheets, and with a mischievous grin, " I like my men devoid of both facial and genital hair." She pushed me down on my back, opened my legs wide, knelt down between them and began to apply the cream to my rigid cock and my balls.

She could see my look of apprehension, laughed and reassured me. "Relax, I did this for your father on a regular basis and he did it for me." and before I had time to fully digest the implications inherent to that remark, she casually grasped my already upstanding cock and began to apply the cream. The touch of her hand was sufficient to absorb my full attention, so by the time I was able to truly appreciate what she was doing, she had neatly removed all the superfluous hair without transforming me into a eunuch. The loss of hair created an unusual sensation of cleanliness and freedom, was highly erotic and I complimented on her expertise.

"If you thought that was good, wait till you experience this." was her reply. She poured some of her skin lotion into her palms and began massaging it into the areas she had shaved. She was right to warn me, otherwise I may have hit the roof. With exquisite care she applied the lotion to every part and when she finally, and I am sure, tantalizingly slowly, began to rub it up and down my already swollen shaft, I groaned and warned her that there was a great probability that it would either explode or I would suffer an apoplectic stroke.

syrensong
syrensong
51 Followers