Inspiring Mom

My mother lifted her face from my chest and looked me straight in the eyes. It was humiliating. She knew. I couldn't tell if she was aroused or disgusted at me.

"I think we've done enough for today," she said, leaning back.

"Oh...ummm...sorry about that."

"You have nothing to be sorry for. Thanks again. You've been such a big help."

When she took a step back, my eyes briefly glanced down at her chest to see both of her big nipples poking through her tshirt again. She was aroused too. Somewhere during the process, she became aroused enough to make her nipples stiff.

She took her notepad and went back to her bedroom. I watched her ass while she headed up the stairs. I was aroused and humiliated, both at the same time.

***

Dinner was mostly quiet that night. I still felt embarrassed that she felt my erection, but I'm sure she understood. Deep down, it was kind of worth it. Feeling her tits against my body for a long period of time was fantastic. I've always loved older women, but I never had a chance to be with one.

"My writing went well today," my mother said before taking another bite of her food.

"That's great."

"I couldn't have done it without you. You did an excellent job as my helper. Really, you did."

In a way, my mother's response felt like she was being patronizing towards me because I had an erection during our artistic encounter. It felt like she was telling me that I was being unprofessional in some way.

"Sorry about that," I said. "It was an accident. Can you blame me?"

"What are you talking about?" she asked with a puzzled expression.

I realized that I made a huge mistake bringing it up. As it turned out, the erection wasn't even on my mother's mind.

"Oh, never mind."

"Tell me," she insisted.

"You know, earlier when we hugged. Before you left..."

A slight grin appeared on her face. "That's perfectly natural. Don't worry about it. I've been to plenty of nude art classes and I've seen a bunch of men get erections while they were posing. It just means you're a healthy young man."

"Yeah but...you're...you're..."

"I'm your mother?" she smiled. "Is that what you're trying to say? Are you ashamed because I made you stiff?"

"God, this is so embarrassing."

"I like that we're being honest."

"I'm sure you do."

She paused and thought for a moment. "Look, I haven't been totally honest with you. Remember I said that I'm going to be a writing a short story for a compilation book? I've told you it's an erotic story, and it is. But I didn't tell you what kind of erotic story it is."

"I didn't even know that there are differences."

"There are. I was asked to write an incest story, and I accepted the offer. So I was working on that these past few days."

All the embarrassment I had been feeling suddenly left my body. I was becoming aroused- and fast. My prim & proper mother writing sex stories was one thing, but her writing about family members having sex? That was something that sent a jolt down my spine.

"How is it coming along?" I asked.

"Better than I expected," she slightly nodded. "It took some time getting used to. But when we hugged, the feelings came through and I knew exactly how to write it."

"So you were actually aroused?" I asked bluntly, before immediately regretting it.

Her eyes sharpened. "It's part of my job. I try to inhabit the minds of my characters so I can properly write their feelings."

"I could tell. You were poking out of your tshirt."

My mother looked slightly mortified. "Really? It was that noticeable?"

"They were pretty big."

She shrugged. "Family genes I suppose. We shouldn't be talking about this."

"Does that mean we won't, you know, be doing this anymore?"

"I didn't say that. Frankly, I'm not sure. I may need your help again if I get stuck in another rut. We'll see how everything goes."

With that said, my mother returned to eating. She genuinely had no clue. Neither did I. But deep down, I knew I wanted it to continue. I think my mother wanted to also.

*****

My hopes were slowly fading as another week had passed. She continued working on her writings, and I continued with another week of difficult college courses. Life went on as usual.

On a Friday night I got an email from my mother who was just down the hall. She never mentioned anything about an email when we had dinner together that night.

When I opened the email, I understood why she never said anything. The email contained several files of stories my mother had been working on. They were too much to read at once. But I was interested in reading some of it. In some perverted way, it was exciting to read erotic stories that my mother had written. I was curious to see what sexual fantasies she had.

It took me nearly an hour to read the mother/son story she was working on. I read it slowly. I wanted to take everything in. The story was written from the mom's perspective. It was incredibly detailed. What struck me about it the most was that the characters were a lot like my mother and I. It was almost a splitting image of us. It was like she had written about our lives, but only she added sexual tension to it. The build up to the story was a lot of hugging and kissing. She must have gotten that inspiration from when we touched.

That's when the story ended. The main climax hadn't been completed yet. I wondered if that's why she emailed me what she had been working on. Maybe she wanted another favor? Maybe she wanted to explore things a little deeper? Whatever the case. I was more than willing.

***

The next morning my mother prepared a large breakfast. It was exactly what I had expected. She wanted something from me. I figured she wanted to touch me again, to use me for her inspiration.

She greeted me with a loving smile the moment she saw me. I did the same in return. We ate together as if nothing was out of the ordinary. When we finished, she finally made the proposal:

"I need your help again," she said bluntly. "It might be the last time. No promises. Are you interested?"

"Anything to help."

She winked at me. "I'm glad. I was afraid you would turn me down."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because of the bad experience before."

"I wouldn't call that a bad experience," I clarified. "Just an embarrassing one."

She smiled, "Did you read the material I emailed you last night?"

"There was a lot, but I read as much as I could."

"What did you think?"

"The short one was really good. I'm assuming that's the one you need inspiration for."

She nodded. "It's a very tricky subject. And it's extremely taboo. I want to get it right. I want to get the feelings right. I'm trying to write a story about a conflicted woman. In order to do that, I'll need to step into those shoes."

"I'd probably be a straight-A student if I had your dedication," I joked to lighten the mood. "I'd love to help. Whatever you need, I'll do it."

"How far are you willing to go?" she asked with a sudden shyness.

There was an awkward pause for a brief moment. The look in her eyes showed the passion and dedication to her work. She was willing to go far. But I didn't know exactly what she had in mind.

"It's up to you," I replied.

"Look, you don't have to do anything you aren't comfortable with. I have a performance art background. I used to do plays and art shows when I was in college. So it's different for me. If you're uncomfortable, promise to let me know. Okay?"

I nodded. "Okay mom."

She looked away from me as she stood up. Then she collected both of our plates and took them to the sink. There was a sudden seriousness to her mood. I knew she wanted to take things much further.

***

I waited for my mother in the living room. This time, she must have taken at least half an hour to show up. The excitement started to fade and I was slowly becoming bored waiting.

That changed the moment I saw my mother coming down the stairs. She looked cute in a tshirt and sweat pants. Her hair was tied in a pony tale. She held a notepad with one hand, and a piece of cloth in her other hand. She looked enthusiastic in her search for new inspiration.

"You look great," I noted.

"Thanks. I feel great."

I stood up and she put her notepad down on the couch. She started folding the cloth in her hand.

"What's that for?" I asked.

"I'm going to blindfold you," she said casually. "I don't want you to see certain things."

"Blindfold me? Do you really need to do that?"

"Yes. You said you were willing to do whatever I wanted. Well, this is what I want."

"Why?"

She sighed, "Because I don't want you to see my tits."

My eyes widened and I tried not to let my jaw hit the floor. The look on my mother's face was priceless as she giggled at my reaction.

"You're taking them out?" I asked like a dummy.

"Don't worry about it. You aren't going to see them. Just do what I say."

She stood in front of me with the folded cloth in her hand, and she used it to cover my eyes. Then she tied it behind my head. I was completely blinded.

I heard the noises of clothes being shuffled around. She must have taken off her tshirt at that point. I would have given anything for a peak. I tried to look through the bottom of the blindfold, but to no avail. I felt desperate and horny.

"Are you ready?" she asked.

"Yes," I replied, even though I didn't know what she was talking about.

My mother grabbed my right hand and brought it to her chest. My palm was open and I touched her bare breast. I heard my mother gasp when I touched her. I was instantly aroused. Her breast felt soft, which is what I expected since she's a middle aged woman. Her nipple felt large as it pressed against my palm.

"Move your hand around," she said. "Explore it."

The first thing that came to mind was her nipple. I wanted to touch it with my fingers, and I did. It was large and stiff. I pinched it gently. I wondered what color it was. Then I cupped her breast in my hand, wondering what she was thinking.

My cock was completely hard at that point. It must have been bulging through my shorts. But I didn't care. The only thing I cared about was feeling my mother's tit in my hand.

To my complete surprise, I felt my mother's hand touch my erection through my shorts. At first I thought it was a mistake. But then she began to rub it. Then she grabbed it. I became even stiffer. I fondled her breast even more. I needed sexual relief so bad.

Before we could progress, my mother suddenly stopped. She released her hold of my cock, and I lost grip of her breast when she walked away. I heard my mother scribbling in a rapid pace on her notepad. I'm sure she had a flood of new feelings to write about. Unfortunately, I heard the sound of clothes ruffling again and I knew she put her top back on.

She untied the blindfold and I got to see her. The look on her face showed excitement, like she had just done something dirty. There was a gleam in her eyes. I could tell she was aroused. I looked down at her chest and saw that her big nipples were poking through her tshirt again.

"You're the best," she smiled.

She took the cloth & notebook and then she left. This time, the sweat pants she wore was much smaller, and I was able to get a better look at her ass when she headed up the stairs. All I could do was go to my room and masturbate to relieve the incredible sexual tension I felt.

***

Late that night. My mother emailed me again. She sent me an updated version of the incest story she had been working on. I read it immediately.

It contained all of the things we had done earlier that day. It told the story of a son who touched his mother's breasts, and a mother who touched her son's erection in return. It contained a lot of sensory and emotional details, which my mother must have felt when we had our encounter earlier.

I was aroused after reading my mother's story, not just because it was a good story, but because my mother wrote it. I tried to imagine what went through my mother's mind. I wondered if she thought of me when she wrote that scene. I masturbated again, thinking of how her breast felt. Her hard nipple felt heavenly in my hand, and I knew I wanted to continue things with my mother.

***

The next morning. When I went down the stairs for breakfast, I saw my mother sitting by the dining table wearing a simple white robe, reading the newspaper. She was drinking a cup of coffee and her legs were crossed, with one foot pointed in the air. She looked sexy. It was rare that she would step out of her bedroom wearing only a robe. She normally liked to be dressed appropriately.

We said hello to each other as I got my cereal. When I sat down, I got a better look at my mother as she continued reading the newspaper. Her robe was only loosely tied. I almost saw the middle of her chest. If I didn't know any better, I would say that she wasn't wearing anything underneath.

"I read the stuff you wrote last night," I said when I sat.

My mother put the newspaper down. "And?"

"I thought it was great. You're a very talented writer."

"Thank you. I try my best."

"Seriously, it was great. I could tell you put a lot of thought into it. You really inhabited the main character when you wrote about it."

"That's the goal."

My mother leaned back in her chair and continued reading the newspaper. Her legs were still crossed and her body was turned to the side. Her loosely tied robe opened a little bit. I saw more of her chest. I was positive she was doing it on purpose.

I ate breakfast and tried not to stare. I didn't want to get caught looking. She took another sip of her coffee and her robe opened a little further. I had a slightly better view of her chest and it was driving me crazy.

"You're doing this on purpose," I said. "Aren't you?"

She put the newspaper down. "What are you talking about?"

"Your robe."

She looked down at her opening robe, and then she adjusted it, closing it tightly.

"Oh, thanks for the warning," she said. "That was a close call."

"Did you like having me look at you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Nevermind," I replied. "I shouldn't have said anything."

She paused for a moment. "I'll answer your question on one condition."

"Sure."

"I want to know if you enjoyed looking at me just now. And yesterday? Did you enjoy that too?"

"Yes," I admitted. "Were you showing me on purpose? Was it for your story?"

"It's for my story. But I also enjoy it. It's fun being desired. I miss that feeling."

I found myself becoming aroused when my mother admitted that she enjoyed everything that we had been doing together. It wasn't much of a big surprise, but it was sexy to hear her say it.

"Which part did you like the most?" I asked.

"Having you touch my breast yesterday. And you?"

"Same thing."

She slightly nodded. "Look, I know these past few days have been very strange for us. I would never ask you to do something that would make you uncomfortable. And I would never jeopardize our relationship for the sake of a story. So if you want to put an end to this, I would understand."

"When I told you that I would help, I meant it. And I always keep a promise."

"No matter what?" she asked with an eyebrow raised.

"No matter what."

My mother got up and stood in front of me. I sat back in my chair, knowing that breakfast wasn't very important anymore.

Before I could wonder what she was doing, I watched my mother open her white robe. She wore panties, but nothing else. Her breasts were bare, and they were mere inches away from my face. They were average sized and they sagged. Her nipples were as large as I had expected. They were thick and poking out. They were a shade of dark pink. She looked like a stunning middle aged woman.

"Touch them," she said.

I didn't need to be told twice. I reached up with both hands and cupped both breasts. They were soft and reflected her age. I played with both of her nipples, pinching them, making them even harder.

She reached down with one hand and squeezed my ever-growing erection through my shorts.

My mother got down on her knees, which released the hold I had on her breasts. I let my mother do whatever she wanted. She pulled the front of my shorts down. My cock was completely exposed. She looked at it for a moment. I couldn't tell if she was still doing things from the character's perspective in her story, or for her own personal satisfaction. Maybe it was both.

She rubbed my bare cock with her hands. I've always enjoyed feeling a woman's touch. But her's was extra special. Maybe it was because she has soft mature hands. Maybe it was because she was my own mother, which added a whole new layer of taboo. Maybe it was both.

Before I could get used to the feeling of my mother rubbing me, she bent her head down and took my cock inside of her mouth. She immediately went to work sucking on it, and bobbing her head. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. My own prim & proper mother was actually sucking my cock. It felt amazing. She was an expert cock sucker. Who knew? Her mouth was warm and wet. Her tongue licked circles around the head of my cock. Her lips were wrapped tightly around my shaft as her head bobbed. One of her hands stroked my shaft. Her other hand caressed my balls.

I became excited thinking that I would cum in her mouth. But suddenly, she stopped.

"We shouldn't go any further than this," she said, tucking my wet cock back inside my shorts. "Thank you. You've been a big help to me."

With that said, my mother stood up and closed her robe. She took her cup of coffee and headed up the stairs.

***

My cock was absolutely aching. I was in desperate need of relief. And my mother had just left me high & dry. I went up the stairs to see what she was doing. Maybe she would change her mind?

Her bedroom door was wide open. I saw her robe laid across the bed. She sat in front of her computer and typed away. She sat naked except for her panties. She continued typing, even as she heard me approach her from behind. It was understandable since she didn't want to lose her important train of thought.

I reached down and cupped both of her breasts as she continued to type.

"What are you doing?" she asked, with her eyes still on the computer, and her fingers still typing.

"What do you think I'm doing?"

My mother suddenly stopped typing and stood up. She turned towards me so that we were face-to-face.

"Do you really want this?" she asked, looking me in the eyes. "You realize that things will never be the same again, right?"

"I know."

She grabbed me by the neck and kissed me on the lips. We kissed each other passionately. We gave each other a wet tongue kiss. Our lips and mouths were intertwined, and it felt wonderful.

She ended the kiss and we looked in each others eyes.

"What now?" I asked.

"Follow my lead."

She went to her bed and laid on her back. Her feet were pointed towards me, and her legs were open. I knew exactly what she wanted me to do.

I pulled her panties off and threw them to the side. She opened her legs further and I saw her beautiful pussy. Her labia was thick, and it was almost shaped like a butterfly. It flared around the sides. It was a dark shade of brown, which was in sharp contrast to the pinkness of her pussy. She was dripping wet. She was soaked. It was obvious that she was incredibly aroused from everything we had been doing. My mother's pussy was gorgeous.

My hands rubbed the outer layer of her labia. Then I gave the outside of her pussy a kiss, then a few more. I took each side of her labia in my mouth and I sucked them. She moaned. Whatever I was doing, she approved. Then I pushed my tongue inside of her pussy, tasting her warm fluids. She tasted good. Her moans became louder. My tongue went up & down her pussy, and around her swollen clitoris. She cried.