It Started with a Joke

"Do you know what your son did today? He grabbed my ass!"

"Tom! Get in here! No more tuition for you."

Yep. Some things are desirable, but unattainable, and that was Mom. I had gotten away with it once, and that would be that. I put it down to experience, although I knew I would have jerk-off fodder for the rest of my life, thinking about "What if...?"

While I had pulled back and had at least a reasonable control of my raging hormones, Mom didn't change her behavior. If anything, she seemed to ramp it up a notch. For instance, whenever we'd be out, or even around the house standing by each other, she would give me the Mom Arm Hug. That's the hug where your Mom puts her arm under your arm and hugs her tits against your arm. She's just hugging your arm, but those tits are rubbing all over it. Are they oblivious? Do they not know that at that moment, every sensory particle in your body migrates to the arm in question so you can feel her tit?

So, Mom was doing that, more and more. She was still wearing those tee shirts and tank tops without a bra, and her nipples were constantly at attention. She got more comfortable around me with just her panties and a tee shirt.

While all that certainly aroused me, it didn't sway my risk assessment. I would not, I could not, make the final move. I became stiff and wooden around her. Where before I would hug her closely, hoping she'd feel my hard dick, now I barely hugged her at all and when I did, I tried to maintain distance between us. I recited the multiplication tables in my head so I wouldn't get hard. Sometimes it worked, and sometimes it didn't. But I tried, and mostly succeeded. Fantasies are one thing, but I wasn't going to screw up everyone's life with the wrong move.

One night, Sandy was out and it was just Mom and me. She had on her damned shorts that showed off her camel toe, something Mom probably was not even aware of, and a thin back tank top with no bra. We were sitting on the couch watching a movie when, out of the blue, she turned to me. "Tom, what's the matter with you? You used to give great hugs. Now you hold back and it's like hugging a tree. You won't even look at me. Don't you love me anymore?" She seemed close to tears.

I didn't know what to do. She was to my right and I stiffly hugged her upper body to me. "Oh, Mom. It's complicated. Of course I love you."

"Well, you don't act like it anymore. What have I done? What's complicated?"

"Oh, stuff. That's all. I guess I'm nervous about going back to school. I'll be a senior, so I've got to start getting ready for graduate school. It's going to be tough."

She nodded. "OK. But you know if you ever need anything...anything...," and she seemed to put some emphasis on 'anything,' "all you have to do is ask, and I'll give it to you." When she said it, I'll be damned if she didn't give me the Mom Arm Hug. I could feel her nipple rubbing on my arm. I gulped, and looked down, my face burning red.

Her voice took on a lower, husky timbre. "I think my little boy has become a man." She hugged my arm tighter, with the effect of rubbing that tit all over it.

"I'm trying. It's hard sometimes."

She giggled. I knew what she was thinking, because at that moment it was hard, as hard as a diamond-cutting drill bit.

Out of the blue, she said, "My Tom is a breast man, isn't he? Where did that come from? I thought guys were supposed to want girls like their Mothers, and I don't have much going in that front." She let me go and sat back into the cushion. My eyes naturally went to her tits, I couldn't help it, and then I looked into her eyes.

I didn't want to make a mistake, but damn. How much can a guy take? I remembered the thing about husbands putting their wives on a pedestal and treating them like a delicate crystal vase. I thought about the fuck bruise on her leg. Risk assessment be damned. If she wanted to be treated as a hot, desirable woman, that's what I'd give her. I'd treat her like the Tri-Deltas who couldn't wait to get their panties off.

"Those tits are perfect and they're all I've ever wanted."

There. It was out. I had called my Mother's breasts, "Tits," and to her face. Now we'd see where life took me. Mentally, I was deciding how quickly I could get packed and get out before Dad got home.

So in the dance between Mother and Son and their mutual desire, when it exists, the Mother always has to make the move. The son is not going to take charge, because he knows he could be misinterpreting the whole thing. Mom has to make the overt move that tells both parties exactly what is going on.

That's exactly what Mom did. In a swift move, she rolled over onto my lap, facing me and straddling my legs. She took my face in her hands, bent forward, and gave me the kiss of my life. There was no hesitancy in it. She came to me with her mouth slightly open, and I responded immediately. We were kissing like horny teenagers in the back seat of a Subaru. I cupped her face in my hands, gently caressing her while we kissed. She moaned in my mouth. I remember thinking at the time, and I still think it, that the best kiss any man will ever get is that first real kiss from his Mother. That kiss, full of promise, says it all. Mom's kiss, full of promise, said it all. That kiss said that she considered me a man, and a man who might enjoy something he'd never forget. That kiss said that what had previously been considered impossible, was possible. Even if a kiss was all that happened, it was enough. It was the kiss of a lifetime, and we both were caught up in it. Was it ten minutes, or ten hours, or ten days that we kissed like that, with her straddling me, her pussy rubbing against my hard dick?

But the kiss wasn't all that happened. She pulled back to break the kiss and looked me in the eyes. Our faces were inches apart. I noticed that she had beautiful blue eyes, and I wondered why I had never seen that before. "You're beautiful," I said, and I meant it.

"So are you," she replied softly, and in one quick move she reached to the bottom of her tank top and peeled it right over her head. I was speechless. My Mom, half naked and straddling me, with her beautiful tits right in my face.

What would any normal man do? Yep. I did exactly that. I leaned forward and took her left breast in my mouth. I worked her nipple with my tongue and then tried my best to suck her whole breast into my mouth. I worked that tit like a man possessed, and then switched to the other one. She had her head back, holding my head and rubbing her fingers in my hair, while giving little whimpers, and then she said, "You loved those nipples when you were a baby." I removed my hands from her breasts and grabbed her ass, hunching it on my dick. Based on my experience, I thought she was pretty close to cumming right there.

I was ready to take this to a whole new level, but I was mature enough to have learned the "No, means No" lesson so I wasn't going to do anything she didn't want. My rule was that the woman always decided if we were going to fuck, and that meant asking permission at every step. Asking permission didn't mean, "May I suck your tit?," but maybe just asking, "Do you like that?" while I gently touched it. That said, I was going to fuck her like the guy who left the marks on her leg hadn't fucked her. If she wanted to be fucked like it was going out of style, then that's what I'd give her. "Hell," I thought. "She's practically naked on my lap. Let's push the bubble."

I pulled my face off her breast and took both of them in my hands. "I love these and I love you. All I want right now is to fuck you like I've always wanted, and to be the best fuck you've ever had."

Some women like a little dirty talk. Some women don't. I thought Dad, if he had placed her on that pedestal, probably didn't tell her that he wanted to fuck her raw. I thought she might like to be fucked raw and to hear that she was so hot. I squeezed her breasts, rubbing my thumbs across her nipples. I pinched her left nipple and said it again. "Did you hear me, Mom? I want to be the best fuck you've ever had."

"You already are," she said softly, and planted her mouth back on mine. My hands were mauling those tits, and she was loving it. "Don't leave marks," she said. "Sandy's here, and your Dad will be home in a week."

It dawned on me. We had been playing a dance between us all summer while Dad was away, and she knew our window was closing. She had decided we were going to fuck, and she had taken the steps to make it happen. Maybe I was a fool for waiting so long. On the other hand, her urgency had clearly tipped her over the edge.

As we kissed, my hands on her breasts, she continued to make hunching motions that rubbed her pussy against my dick. Her hands were holding my head. She took her right hand away, continuing to kiss me, and reached down to put it on my dick. Remember what I said about the first real kiss with your Mother? Well, think about the first time your Mom puts her hand on your hard dick. You will never have a moment to top the first time your Mother touches your hard dick.

She rubbed it, squeezed it through my shorts, and then put her fingers around the head. Mom was still in charge. She pulled back and looked in my eyes, then deftly unbuttoned my shorts and unzipped them. Only when she had my bare dick in her hand did she break eye contact, looking down to examine it. "Oh, my," she whispered. "You're such a bad boy." She squeezed it to emphasize her point and I groaned.

Still determined to allow her wild side to play, I said, "Suck it, Mom. Suck my dick for me."

She laughed a bit. "Honey, that's not a dick. That thing is a cock. Dicks are smaller."

I laughed with her and put my hand on the back of her head as I gently pushed. "Then suck my cock, Baby."

I'm uncircumcised. The guys used to make fun of me about it. For awhile my nickname was "Helmet," and they'd laugh when they called me that at school. It made me pretty self-conscious, until I discovered the secret. The foreskin is loaded with nerve endings. If someone knows what she's doing, it can be mind-blowing. If they don't know and treat it roughly like they might a circumcised one, it can be pretty painful. Some of the girls at school knew that, but most didn't, so the number of truly pleasurable blowjobs I'd had were in the single digits.

Mom knew. She licked lightly around the foreskin as she stretched it back, and then enveloped the head of my dick in her mouth. Remember what I said about firsts with your Mother? That goes quadruple with your first blowjob from your Mom. Even if it's not a good one, you'll never forget it. And this wasn't a good one. This was a great one. Mom knew her way around a dick, I can tell you that, and I was the beneficiary. I brushed her graying hair back so I could watch. "God, Mom. You can suck a dick." I hunched gently against her face. "I love fucking that beautiful face. I love it." She looked up at me and met my eyes, and I exploded. I didn't mean to, but I couldn't hold it.

"I'm sorry, Mom. I thought I could hold it, but looking at your face..."

She pulled off my dick and spit about a gallon of cum on my belly, laughing. "I forgot how big a load a young guy carries," she said. "You almost drowned me."

"Maybe you need some mouth-to-mouth, then," and I pulled her up and kissed her deeply. I could taste my cum. She climbed back in my lap and we snuggled for awhile, my face nestled in her breasts.

"I don't expect your sister until the wee hours," she whispered in my ear. "Wanna go upstairs?"

Boy, did I jump up. "Hell, yes!" She took my hand and led me up the stairs. I didn't know where we were going, but she led me right into her room. She led me to the bed that she and Dad shared. I had expected her to take me to my room, but no, she took me to hers. That's a pretty wanton woman, isn't it, to fuck in her husband's bed? I knew I was in for the fuck of my life, and I wasn't wrong.

She pushed me back on the bed and quickly stripped her shorts off while I got naked. She crawled up the bed, straddling me, and reached down for my dick. "Take it easy," she cautioned. "You're big and with menopause, I'm pretty sensitive down there." She rubbed the head of my dick against her slit to lube it, then placed it where she wanted it. I hunched up, involuntarily. "No, no," she said. "Take it easy. Let me get used to it, then we'll see. You have to stretch me out." She slid slowly down my dick, enveloping it completely in her pussy. "Oh, God," she said. "That's nice."

She rode me like a rodeo champion. I was right - she needed a good, hard fuck from time to time, and this was the time. Her on top, I grabbed her thighs, right where those bruises had been. I'll admit it, I smiled. I almost laughed. She had her head thrown back and her eyes closed, so she didn't see. "You think he left bruises?," I thought to myself. "You wait until I'm done with you." As she furiously hunched me, fucking me, I squeezed her left thigh with my right hand, to the best of my might. She seemed to like it. "Oh, God, what are you doing to me," she moaned.

Her sensitivity passed, I met her hunching with my own, practically throwing her off, so I had to hold her legs. I fucked her. I fucked her hard. She loved a good hard fucking, and she was ready for almost everything. It was "almost" everything because even though she loved me fingering her ass while I ate her pussy, she balked at letting me fuck her there. "Honey, you're too big. Maybe one day we'll try it, but I'm not ready for that right now."

That was good enough for me.

At about one in the morning, she called a halt. It was in-charge Mom again. "You've got to scoot. Sandy will be home soon, and I don't think we want her to see you in bed with your Mother."

"Mom, I don't know what to say."

She kissed me, and I kissed her back, putting all the love in it I could muster. She broke the kiss. "I said, scoot, Mister. We'll have more time. I promise you."

And we did. When there was anyone else around, she was prim and proper Ice Queen Mom. When we were alone and we knew we wouldn't be disturbed, she was the hottest woman I'll ever know. I didn't ask about her fuck buddy - I decided it was really none of my business - but I never saw any more evidence that she was doing it. Of course, that was the idea. I wouldn't have seen, because she was careful.

Before we knew it, the time for Dad's return had arrived. I was nervous, I have to say. Would he know? Could he tell? Could a man tell if his wife had been fucking? Would I let something slip? Would Mom confess in a moment of guilt and weakness? I just didn't know, but I was afraid. A part of me felt sorry for Dad. He had no idea that his wife was fucking around, and why would he? She was the perfect model of what a wife should be. Theirs was a perfect marriage. I eventually came to the realization that she, like so many wives, yearned for a good, hard fuck. I was giving her that with absolutely minimal risk, so it was a winner for all concerned.

But there was none of that. Frankly, I was amazed, and learned a lot about people by the way she handled it. She was loving to him, as if our time had never happened. You would never know by watching her that she had fucked anyone, much less her son. No wonder women can get away with it better than men

A couple of days after Dad got home, we were grilling steaks on the patio and Mom was sitting in her chair, sipping wine. She had her feet tucked up on the chair with her knees up. Dad looked over at her.

"Damn, Debbie. Where'd you get that bruise?" There was a bright line of fingertip-sized bruises on her outside left thigh, with another bruise a palm's width to the top of her thigh.

She looked down and covered it with her hand. "Oh, that? I bruise easily, you know. Who knows what I might have bumped into."

He nodded, accepting her explanation without question, and went back to the steaks. She made sure Sandy wasn't watching, and looked at me. She smiled, and winked. I knew, at that moment, that I'd be fucking her for a very long time. I still had much to learn.