Happy Birthday Mom

Her lips were open; her fanny was wet, and she grunted and moaned as I pressed my hand against it. When my finger penetrated her quim, I thought she was going to scream. In retaliation, she grabbed my prick and began tossing me off. Now it was my turn to moan loudly as her hand slid up and down the rigid shaft.

Still lacking the confidence to say or ask, my mother seemed to be a mind reader as she dragged me on top of her, legs and thighs opening as I slid between them, and my cock pressed against her pussy.

I must admit to a bit of fumbling, my nerves getting the better of me. But at last, I was inside her, my cock buried deep in her cunt. The whole situation was surreal. I had played with my mother's tits, softly and gently kissing, and licking her nipples. I had fingered her and was now about to shag her. What part of any of that could match my wildest dreams?

Taking it cautiously was a necessity; the thrill and excitement of being naked in bed with her--of having sex with her--had already elevated my arousal. It took concentration, trying to think of other things as I thrust slowly until I could get my body under control and not shoot my load immediately.

From my vantage point, I was able to look down and see the new breasts forming perfect domes, each with a darker brown areola and nipple. Yes, she had a belly; the skin wrinkled in places, but other than that, she looked stunning, especially with her legs open and knees bent.

She dragged my head down, our lips meeting once more as I continued to shaft her fanny, our mouths working against each other and feeling seductive and tantalising. Even though I didn't currently have a girlfriend, it wasn't as though I didn't get my leg over. But this was different; my previous encounters with the opposite sex were not comparable. There was something more arousing about having sex with my mother than with those other women.

Susan felt nervous about what she was proposing to do, pretty sure that her son was using her pictures for masturbation. She was excited about her new breasts and had the urge to show them off. Her husband had returned a couple of times since she'd had them done and still hadn't noticed. After having four children, he paid her very little attention anymore.

With the children out and doing their own thing, the occasion presented itself. When she took Stuart upstairs, she could feel herself shaking. His face when she asked if he wanted to take a look, was a picture.

Unbuttoning her blouse, she felt wanton. When she removed her bra, his eyes were out on stalks, which was why she asked if he wanted to touch them. Susan wasn't necessarily thinking about sex, at least not up to the point that he touched and rubbed her nipple. It was still very sensitive, and as he ran his thumb over it, the sensation was akin to an electric shock, exiting immediately through her pussy.

He was gentle as he continued to touch her teat, but it was only as she glanced downward that she noticed the substantial bulge in his pants. Suddenly, she felt euphoric at the thought that she was still capable of exciting this young man. That was how she saw him for a moment, her brain dismissing the fact that he was her son. She hadn't meant to, but the more he fondled her breast, the more her hand gravitated towards his erection.

It felt firm beneath her fingers as she cupped it and then traced its length. What she was feeling sent signals to her pussy as she became moist, and it started demanding to be touched. She didn't know whether to say something; thankfully, she didn't need to as she felt Stuart's hand come to rest on her knee and then begin making its way up her leg and thigh.

When he stroked her pussy, she was convinced she was going to orgasm; the sensations suddenly flooding her body were overwhelming. It was then that she made her mind up--she wanted Stuart to fuck her. The fact that he was her son was overcome by the feelings her body was experiencing. Apparently, he was as nervous as she was when they undressed, but stretched out on the bed, their bodies pressing against each other, nerves disappeared.

When his cock slid inside her, Susan surrendered herself to him. It had been a while since someone had made love to her, and as his cock expanded her pussy with each thrust, she felt her arousal increase. She may have to be careful with her breasts, but there was nothing wrong with her fanny as she urged him to fuck her faster and harder.

When she climaxed, she could not stop herself from writhing; her orgasm extended as she felt his cock jerk inside her cunt and then the sudden rush as his hot cum filled her pussy.

As reality returned, so did the doubts about whether she had done the right thing.

"I still don't look anything like your pictures," she said slowly.

"You look better than those pictures," he said, interrupting her. "I can't wait for you to heal properly so that I can touch your breasts again--if you let me, that is."

Of course, she was going to let him. Having overcome the illicitness of what they had done, there was nothing in their way now to stop them from having sex whenever they got the chance.

Turning on his side, his hand ran over her body, carefully touching her tits and then stroking her belly and her mound.

It felt like a ridiculously brief time before she felt something jerk against her thigh as he became hard once more.

Stuart kissed her, his fingers continuously softly stroking her teats. Pushing him onto his back, she straddled his hips, pressing and sliding her piss-flaps along his shaft, her quim moving easily because of the juices she had lost.

Her arousal was building quickly, as was her son's when she used her cunt to toss him off. He was staring at her intently, watching every movement she made. His hands fidgeted, wanting to play with her tits but restraining himself so as not to cause her any discomfort. When she had him panting, she raised her bottom, gripped his shaft, and fumbled it into position before lowering herself and gasping as it stretched her pussy.

Conscious that they may be stretched for time and that she had no idea when her other children may return, Susan bounced rapidly up and down on her son's cock. He helped by holding her breasts so that they did not bounce as she felt that familiar feeling of her release drawing closer.

And then her eyes went blank, her body shuddering as he shot a second load into her, and she climaxed. Sitting upright, she clamped her thighs tightly against him and enjoyed the waves of pleasure washing through her body.

"I don't want to rush us," she said afterwards as they lay side by side. "But your brother and sisters could be home at any time. We don't want them to catch us like this."

As she tried to dress, Susan could not stop laughing. Although they'd had sex twice, Stuart couldn't keep his hands off her, touching and teasing her as she tried to get into her clothes. It made her feel so special and attractive that she should deserve this treatment.

Dressed, they went downstairs to get coffee, sitting around the kitchen table as they spoke.

"I take it from your antics that I did not disappoint."

I grinned and shook my head. "Certainly not. If I'd known that making those pictures of you would lead to what has happened, I would have done them earlier."

She laughed again. "So, with the look on your face and your comments, I presume it is something you want us to do again."

"Tonight?" I asked.

"No! That is too much of a risk. It would only take one of them to come to my room. We might have to play it by ear, but I'll work something out."

During the time my father was away, we managed another couple of occasions but found it difficult. My brother was seventeen, and my twin sisters were nearly sixteen. It meant none of them went to bed early; the sisters normally went about ten, and my brother, eleven or midnight, depending on whether they had school the following day. Weekends were easier; other than for mealtimes, they would be out with friends, but during the week, it was nigh on impossible.

Everyone had retired, the noises upstairs diminishing as one by one they fell asleep. I was dozing when a tap came at my door. It opened, and my mother's head appeared around it. She said nothing but intimated that I join her downstairs. Grabbing a dressing gown, I made my way down, everywhere in darkness, until a soft click brought on a side lamp.

I could hear the kettle boiling as she made coffee. It was late, but I had no lessons until after dinner the next day. On the edge of the couch was a large blanket. This time of year, and with the heating off, the room had chilled.

Putting a cup on either side, she sat, pulled the blanket over her, and then held up one end and indicated that I should join her beneath it. Taking my hand, she placed it inside her robe, making a face for a second because my fingers were cold.

I withdrew my hand and blew to warm them up before replacing the hand inside her robe.

"Your father will be back next week, and I was missing you."

I was missing her. Having hoped that we could fuck often, it had been disappointing to find that my siblings were always around and that opportunities were few and far between.

I was young and excitable, my loins full of lust. Mom was mature, but after we fucked, she allowed me a certain amount of liberties. It was as though she was reliving her youth. Away from prying eyes, we kissed, allowing me to fondle her breasts as well as her buttocks. She would grab my cock, rubbing frantically as she brought it erect, and then laugh as she left me wanting. I must admit to doing the same, so I suppose it was only fair.

Standing at the kitchen sink and with the others in the lounge, my hand would go beneath her skirt or dress and massage her pussy, leaving her wet before it was withdrawn.

Beneath the blanket, our robes were open, my hand fondling her breasts, which were healing nicely, as fingers on my other hand were inserted into her pussy. I had fucked her, and I was going to fuck her again, but presently, there were other things I wanted to do, things that had only happened in my fantasies.

Coming out from under the blanket, I gave a shiver. "Stretch out and make yourself comfortable," I requested.

Once she was prone, I opened her legs and raised her knees. Maybe she thought I was going to enter her when I knelt, but instead, I slid backwards, nearly half of my torso hanging off the end of the couch. There was just enough light to see as I came face to face with her pussy, my mother taking a sharp breath as she realised what I intended to do.

"You don't have to do...... "

Her words were brought to an abrupt stop as my fingers spread her labia and my tongue and mouth took their first taste of her sex.

With my head buried between her legs, I could hear her moaning. She tasted sweet, my tongue poking into her moist passage as she thrust her vagina against my mouth. It was prudent that her robe was beneath her bottom; otherwise, she would leave a damp patch on the couch. When my lips compressed her clitoris, the shriek was loud enough to wake the other kids upstairs.

Stopping for a moment, I listened for any signs of movement before returning to licking her cunt and sucking at her clit. When she climaxed, she jammed a fist and her robe into her mouth, her hips and legs shuddering as juices showered my face. As I came up for air, she couldn't stop giggling.

"Oh my God, Stuart. That was gorgeous."

I'm pretty sure she was thinking of doing something similar to me, but by now, I wanted to fuck her. Spinning my mother around, I threw cushions on the floor and knelt between her open legs. With the open robe displaying her beautiful body, I rubbed my cock against her opening, teasing as it slid along her lips and brushed against her sensitive bud.

Taking her by surprise, my cock was rammed home as our groins smashed together. In the nick of time, I clamped my mouth over hers, muffling the cry before it could escape. As we fucked, my hands were continually on the move, up and down her legs and thighs, over her hips, and moving up her body as I fondled and caressed those magnificent tits.

When I supported her legs, she took the opportunity to touch herself. I was already nearing the point of no return as she reached down and started rubbing at her clit. I just pumped my shaft into her as hard as I could, unconcerned now at the noise both of us were making.

Her tits bounced and her belly wobbled, my cock savagely abusing her cunt until I watched her face change as she grimaced for a second and then threw her head back as she orgasmed. As she thrust her tits at me, I ejaculated, filling her hot, wet pussy with my cream.

Once we had recovered, we headed back to our rooms, the house still silent. What I wouldn't have given to be joining my mother in her bed, but it was just a dream; with other people in the house, it was never going to happen, no matter how much I desired it.

My father would return in a timely fashion; why? I do not know. At times, he seemed like a stranger to us; we had spent our lives growing up without him most of the time. From what my mother said, any intimacy was long gone, and I believed her because once he disappeared again, she was rampant, looking for any opportunity for me to shag her.

It continued like this for the next two years, right up to the point where I left college and started working. It was never easy for us; we just took our chances whenever and wherever we could. Summertime was great; after tea, we could disappear because my siblings were old enough to take care of themselves. Yes, there were occasions when they were out, but it was always a risk; neither of us was sure when they would return, and somehow, it took the edge off our activities.

With the warmer evenings, we disappeared into the fields on the edge of town. It was full of spots where I knew we would not be disturbed. What made it all the more enjoyable was that I learned my mother had another side to her that, growing up, none of us had ever known about. She was promiscuous; on our outings, she would go without her bra and knickers, just a flimsy summer dress covering her nakedness as we walked on the edge of town and stopped to chat with people she knew.

There were other women, of course; it would have been suspicious if there weren't. They came and went in rapid succession because the woman I really wanted was unobtainable in the grand scheme of things. I and my mother could never have the relationship we desired, but as time passed, surprisingly, it did get easier.

Susan knew about these women because Stuart made no secret of it. She did her best to accommodate them when he brought them home, but from time to time, she found herself becoming jealous.

Gemma was a young woman Stuart had dated on and off for the past eighteen months. She was pretty enough and fun to be with, but he had no long-term plans for their relationship to be any more than it currently was.

And then suddenly, he had a moment of madness. Perhaps it was one of those occasions when he'd had too much to drink; whichever it was, for some reason, including stupidity, he asked her to marry him, and she said yes!

"What were you thinking?" my mother asked me.

All I could do was shrug my shoulders. I had no idea why I had done it.

"We are only engaged," I told her. "Gemma will have changed her mind long before I have to go through with it."

It was what I told myself repeatedly, hoping and praying that it was true. Unfortunately, it wasn't, and at age twenty-five, as I stood at the front of the church and watched my bride walk down the aisle, I knew I was making a big mistake.

Gemma and I rented a flat, and I moved out of my home. For the next two years, despite still occasionally shagging my mother, I was miserable, and then things started to happen that would change my life.

My brother had gone straight from school into work, and as my marriage was coming to an end, he was just taking the plunge. My two sisters were both dating and engaged, planning a double wedding in twelve months.

Gemma was convinced I was having an affair. I wasn't, but I suppose, in a way, I was. It's just that the other woman was my mother. When my brother moved out, my wife and I separated, and I moved back in, my mother and I resumed our activities, taking up where we had left off.

By the time I had my twenty-eighth birthday, she and I had the house mostly to ourselves each evening and weekend. It was around then that my father had a massive heart attack and passed away.

All the mourners had gone, and her younger son and daughters were the last to leave with their spouses. When Susan closed the door behind them, she breathed a sigh of relief. She had never planned for this to happen; she could never have hoped for this to happen, but here she was, a widow, with her eldest son still at home.

Walking back into the lounge, dressed in her 'widow's weeds,' Stuart was waiting as he took her in his arms.

"Are you alright?" he asked her.

"I am now," she told him.

She didn't want to sound mean, but this was a situation that she could only have dreamed about. At fifty-two, she didn't feel old; yes, she was twice her son's age, but now that her husband was gone, she could make changes. Stuart had already agreed to pay the bills, so there was no problem there, and she still had her parent's money, which was considerable, even after paying her son back.

She felt his hand beneath her chin as he raised her face. "I love you," he said, just before he kissed her.

Taking his hand, Susan led him upstairs to her bedroom, a place that lately they had begun to share, spending nights together when her husband had been away.

"Will you unzip me?" she asked.

She knew that he would want to do more, which was why she had dressed for him. When the zip slid down to the top of her hips, Stuart opened the dress and began kissing her neck and shoulders.

Susan slipped it from her arms and dropped it to her ankles before stepping out of it as she kicked it to one side. In her heels, she stood nearly as tall as her son, turning so that he could take in her black underwear, including a suspender belt and dark stockings.

She could see that she immediately made an impression, with a bulge rising in her son's pants. Kicking off her heels, she took to the bed, lying down and stretching out as she asked if he was going to get undressed.

Within minutes, I had removed my suit and thrown it in the direction of her dress. It was swiftly followed by my other clothing as I got naked. Bounding onto the bed, I opened her legs and dived between them, my nostrils picking up the aroma of her musk mixed with talc and perfume, a heady mixture as my mouth and lips nuzzled her pussy through the black lace panties.

I could feel her dampness, but with the evening and night ahead of us, I had decided to take my time, teasing, and making her climax before I got down to shagging her. Pulling the gusset to one side, I poked my tongue out and slid it gently and slowly along her slit.

Susan groaned and stretched taut as her son's tongue made contact with her vagina. She seemed to have waited an age for this--a time when she and Stuart could live as a couple, at least within these four walls. She felt his fingers spreading her lips, his tongue delving deeper as he licked the entrance and as far as it would reach inside her pussy. The fire in her belly was growing as his mouth clamped tightly against her cunt. When he exposed her clitoris and flicked his tongue over its tip, she clamped his head in a vice-like grip.

There was something about the smoothness of stockings rubbing against my face--that line between nylon and flesh. I kissed her quim and her inner thighs, my tongue flicking out and tracing teasing patterns down both sides of her groin. Her thighs relaxed as I spread them wider, pulling her buttocks apart so that from her pussy, I could trace patterns down to her anus. Feeling her shudder when I ran a finger over her puckered entrance, I inserted it first into her vagina, lubricating the digit, and then slowly inserted it up her arse.