Knowing Mom Ch. 03

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Ricky and Mom continue their exploration of the erotic
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Part 3 of the 9 part series

Updated 10/26/2022
Created 06/29/2006
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After Marie had gone, Lori went to find Ricky. He was in his room, reading, wearing nothing but boxers. Her eyes zeroed in on the boxers. Was he semi-hard? Had he been doing something?

He asked about Todd's mom, and she tried to deflect his questions. But it turned out he already knew. Todd wasn't exactly discreet. In fact, he had bragged about it to Ricky.

"And did you tell Todd about last night?" She asked. "No, hell no. Todd may be lame, but I'm not."

She smiled. Her son was not only handsome and endowed but intelligent. No wonder she found herself drawn to him. Where had he learned such good sense? Not from his father, that was for sure. "Dinner?" she asked.

"What do you want me to eat?" he asked and grinned.

She watched him reach into his boxers and rub himself. Still smiling at her, he massaged, purposefully showing her how he managed to arouse himself. She stared, watching, a bit awed by his audacity, by his confidence. Had someone told him he was endowed and that women really did like big ones? Size did matter? She was also aware of her own confidence. A few days earlier, she never would have stood there and watched him do this. If he had started, she would have fled in shame. But that was before the raise, before she explored him while he was passed out. Certainly before she got him off at the sink. Now, she could hold her amused smile and watch as the pink head poked out his shorts, a snake, that pretty snake emerging from its den.

"I remember the first time I did this thinking of you," he said. "It was this summer. You know your red bikini?"

Of course, she remembered the bikini. The red bikini flattered her more than any suit she had ever owned.

"For the first time, I saw you as female. I saw the humps of breasts, the bubble ass, the long legs. I knew how you make me feel. I didn't know what to do with the erection you caused, but I was glad to have it. Even if it drove me crazy."

She watched the snake emerge, grow, thicken. She listened and watched and felt her own juices begin to stir. God, he looked sexy, strong and endowed. She fought the urge to grab him and lick him. No, not yet. She wanted to listen to him, understand his tale. She felt her nipples begin to swell.

"While some girls drive me wild at times, no one turns me on like you do. That red bikini, and you look so full, so tan. You lie on the lounge and unhook your bra so you won't get a tan line. Your bare back is incredibly sexy, and I was always wish you would roll over and forget you were unhooked so I could see your breasts. A couple of times, I dropped things on purpose thinking you would rise up and show me those luscious things. But you never have. You always remembered, and I was always thwarted. I bet I walked around hard half the time. At night, I stay awake trying to think of ways to get that top off you. I never came up with anything. I was scared to just ask."

He rubbed his palm over the head of his shaft, like a magician making it disappear and then reappear. She watched, mesmerized by both the story and the erection. Something about it beckoned like a candle to a moth. She wanted to flit all around and see if she got singed. As he worked, it grew and bobbed as he played. She wanted to play.

"Then, I got lucky. I'll never forget. A hot, sultry night so we decided to go swimming. I was the pool, waiting for you, watching for you. I was already hard in the warm water, underlit by the pool lights. I love the way you move as you come out of the house. You always look so graceful, so sexy, that sway...and your red bikini. You came out and dove into the pool. For some reason, your bra came unhookd, so when you surfaced you had one delicious breast bared. White with your brown nipple in that surreal water. I stared. I don't even think you saw me, because you quickly tucked it in and hooked your bra. I ducked under the water and resurfaced so you wouldn't think I had seen anything. But I had. I had seen paradise, and I was as hard as concrete. You were that pretty, that hot."

She watched him stroke and she knew the memory was of particular importance. He cherished it, and it had driven him to this more times than he could remember. His energy and desire were contagious. She felt her need growing.

"That night, that night I crawled into bed with the most important thing in my life, my memory of your breast, your perfect breast. I closed my eyes and saw you in the water and my penis became as stiff as a flagpole. My hands did what guys' hands have done for eons. I was jerking it, squeezing it, playing with it, and it felt so good. I knew I wanted you to play with it too, but I really wanted was to rub it on that nipple I had seen. I wanted it to see what you were like. I could feel it riding over the curve of you, a steed to take those heady mounds. I was working it like that, dreaming, when I came. I've cum many times since but never as good as that time. Never as good as the night I dreamed of running my erection over mom's tit. That has always been a memory to hang onto."

She licked her lips and ogled what he handled so easily, so readily. She supposed men soon came to know themselves in uncommon ways. After all, it was always just hanging there begging for attention. She wondered if she would ever be able to handle it with such ease. Could she learn to make him this hard, this needy? Would her touch ever equal his? Did she want to find out? Yes, her body said she more than wanted to, she needed to.

"I probably shouldn't have told you. What a confession, eh, mom? But I remember last night in the kitchen when you whispered in my ear all those questions about when I first started thinking sex, sex with mom. I replayed your voice, and I knew when it first started. That night in the pool and an innocent baring of your breast. That was the beginning. It's been with me ever since, and I can't count how many times I've changed it, expanded it, altered it, all to get myself in this state, all to get off. You were right when you said I had fantasized about you. I've been making up stories in my head since that night. All kinds of stories in all kinds of places with all kinds of outcomes."

She unbuttoned her blouse and pulled her bra off one breast. She watched his face light up, his hand work himself faster. She had never known that her breast was so powerful.

"When I started dreaming about you, I used to whisper 'how do you like it, mommy?' 'see how big it is.' 'aren't you proud of your boy, mom?' I would pretend that the sight of it drove your crazy, that whenever you saw it, you would want it. If you saw it hard, you'd have to handle it, caress it, love it. It would be better than chocolate, more satisfying than a hot bath. If you ever got your hands on it, you'd want to own it, use it. You'd claim it like a prospector claiming a gold mine. It would become your most precious possession, your favorite toy, the meat and drink of your existence. The best toy in the world, it didn't run on batteries or springs. It was flesh and blood and alive, and if you could just touch it, you'd go mad with desire for it. It would fill your waking hours, inhabit your dreams. Better than sunshine, more reliable than the moon. You'd never tire of it, never want another one. You would forsake family and friend for a chance to have it. Every day, you would devise new ways to bend it to your pleasure. Those fantasies filled my mind as I worked it every night. If only you could see it."

She could see it, and she did want it. She wanted it exactly as he had said. She wanted it as Midas wanted gold. She wanted it today and tomorrow and the day after. She wanted it in front, behind, above, below, every way she could imagine. She wanted the tip, the shaft, every pulsating inch of it. She wanted to taste and touch and smell and hear it. She wanted to own it. She wanted to know it would be waiting when she got home from work. She wanted it available in the middle of the night. She wanted it for breakfast, for lunch, for dinner, as a late night snack. She wanted it as she had never wanted anything in her life. She wanted, she wanted, she wanted.

She climbed onto the bed and leaned across him until her hard nipple touched him. She felt him shiver even as he used the tip to trace her breast. She wanted, and he wanted too.

"Yes, mommy, yes. That's how I wanted it, how I've always wanted it. Can you feel how hard my heart is beating? I've dreamed of this. You feel...incredible. Swollen yet soft. I love how it feels on me, and I hope if feels good to you. When I circle you like this, I feel a rush I've never felt before. It's better than fantasy. It's real, and real is so much better. It's me, mommy, little Ricky, don't you love it?"

She did love it. She loved how he ran it across her breast, across her nipple, all around her skin. The snake was playing with her, toying with her. Bold, big, strong, the snake tantalized her in a way she had never felt before. No wonder Satan had been a serpent in the Garden of Eden. What woman could resist such a touch? What women could resist a man's serpent? She panted and knew she was getting wetter and wetter. What woman wouldn't gush for the snake, for little Ricky's snake?

"Yes, mommy, yes. That's sooo good, so nice. It's exactly what Ricky dreams about. It makes Ricky so hard and hot and ready for mommy. It makes Ricky want to shoot for mommy. Does mommy want Ricky to shoot?"

She smiled at him. Then, she stripped off her blouse and bra, baring her chest. She leaned over so he could play with her, with her nipples and breasts that ached for touch.

"Yes, mommy. Ricky loves your chest, loves touching it and running his erection all over you. You feel perfect, mommy, perfect."

He stroked himself on her breasts and cleavage, and she relished the attention. The snake was slithering along her, drinking up her nipples, teasing her skin. She panted, as he played, and he panted with her. She could feel his pounding heart through her nipples as he ran them along the side of his shaft. How many times had he dreamed of doing this, of letting Ricky play among mommy's breasts? More times than she could imagine, and had she known how good it felt, she might have been enjoying this with him before this. He did feel good, he felt great, he felt real.

"On your back, please mommy?"

She looked at him, and she could see he was moments away from orgasm. How long had they been playing? Too long considering the power of their fantasies. The stronger the desire, the quicker the orgasm. She knew that. She knew he was her little Ricky discovering for the first time how overwhelming lust could be. Ricky wanted mommy so bad he couldn't think. She liked that, she liked that so very much.

She rolled onto her back, and he climbed to his knees. He knelt above her, pumping himself with abandon, knowing that she stared, knowing that she desired. There was no shame in him, no sin. There was only desire, only need. There was only the fulfillment of a dream. This was the culmination of more fantasy than the rest of the world could fathom. She could read it in his face, see it in his hands. His moans crept out. Kneeling there, stroking and pulling and kneading, he was about to grasp the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. He was going over the top, finally reaching the unreachable star.

She waited, but only for a moment. Then, he moaned loudly and gripped, and the pent up semen shot from the snake. It hissed and spat and she felt the warm goo land on her breasts, running just a bit before sticking. She watched in awe as it shot half a dozen times, shuddering as it bubbled out, falling on her, coating her. She had never experienced anything so sexy. She had never lusted for anything so arousing. Little Ricky was cumming on her tits, using her to catch his stuff. While she had sometimes wondered how it would feel to have a man do this, she had never imagined it would be so stimulating—or that little Ricky would be doing it. It was a dream come true for her too, and while she didn't often admit thinking such taboo thoughts, she welcomed his cum. It seemed as if it burned wherever it touched, putting her on fire.

He stopped and looked down at her, his chest heaving from the effort. She smiled at him, and they understood each other. They had both loved this. Little Ricky and mom had both wanted this, and now they had it. It was an event they would share for as long as they lived. Lust had won out again. She trembled with need.

"Now," she said. "Lick it off."

He didn't hesitate which surprised her. Had he tasted himself before? Had he experimented with it? She reminded herself to ask him some day, some day in the future. Right now, she wanted to enjoy him, enjoy his mouth and tongue. She concentrated on him, on his lips and tongue moving along her breasts, finding those gobs of semen and sucking them off her skin. He moved slowly, methodically. His tongue lingered on her. His lips formed around her nipple even though there was no goo there. She loved the attention. Her nipples loved the attention. Her breasts love the attention. She felt his lips made love to her nipples. The way he sucked and released, sucked and released. Where did he learn that? But it was as if she was fucking his mouth with her nipple, as if her nipple were her own erection, something she could use to slip into his mouth, in and out, in and out. His lips formed and released, pressed and released. Intercourse between mom's nipple and son's lips. She wondered if his erection felt the same when some woman sucked him. No wonder men loved oral sex. Suck and release, suck and release.

Her nipple hardened and swelled. Her arousal was nearly complete as she nipple banged his mouth. Oh, a bit of teeth, and she shivered. She grabbed his head and held it on her nipple as she slowly, methodically fucked Ricky's mouth, little Ricky's mouth. Why was this so incredibly sexy? She pressed in and out. Every stroke seemed to make her nipple more sensitive. Was that the blood coursing through it? Was the abrasion caused by lip and tongue and teeth? Oh, that tongue. When she pushed in, that tongue flicked the tip of her nipple and she gasped. God, what a wonderful feeling. Did men feel that when women flicked them with their tongues? Did they get the same thrill? She loved it. She had never imagined she could ever come close to feeling what men felt, and yet, she thought this must be something like what they had. Nipple fucking her son's mouth, little Ricky's mouth. In and out, so wet and warm and growing firmer with every stroke.

And he was sucking his mom's nipple, suck and release, suck and release. Did he know how it made her feel? Did he understand the similarity between his penis and her nipple? Oh, her nipple wasn't the same and surely wouldn't shoot, and was tiny, but it felt so hot to be doing this to his mouth, his tight lips. He sucked so hard, and it made her feel soooo good. She felt so wet. Her breath came in short sips. She held his mouth on her and moved deliberately, slowly, into those light lips and out. His lips were like her lips, like how she tried to be tight on man. Her lips weren't as easy to control as his lips, but it was the same principle. Hard, full mom's nipple stroking son's sucking lips, instead of son's hard shaft stroking mom's sucking lips. Oh, it felt good. It felt right. If she moved it left and right, oh, that felt good. Up and down, left and right, in and out, circle it around, let him play his tongue over it. It felt better than anything she had ever known.

"Know what I'm doing, Ricky?" she asked. "Know what mommy is doing? She's nipple fucking your mouth. A nipple like a tiny penis going in and out, in and out. Through your tight lips like mommy's tight lips. Isn't that what it feels like? Mommy using her nipple like Ricky uses his hard shaft? Suck me, Ricky. Suck mommy's nipple hard. Flick it with your tongue. Make it even harder. Make mommy's nipple beg for more. You're such a good boy, such a good son. Suck it, play with it, make it grow. It makes mommy feel so hot and wet for you. That's what you want, isn't it? You want mommy hot and wet.

"Is that what you've dreamed about, Ricky? Is this what your wished for when you peeked at mommy in her red bikini? Did you dream of licking mommy's tits, sucking her nipple, making her hot and you hard? Is that what makes you masturbate in your bed? Is this what goes through your head? Mommy nipple fucking your mouth, mommy making you wild for her? You always want it this way, don't you? You've wished and prayed and lusted for this, for sucking on mom, for using your mouth and lips on her. How many times did you taste mommy in your fantasies? How many times did your tongue beg for reality? This is better than your dreams, isn't it, Ricky? This is far better. This is real. It's mom's nipple taking your mouth. Oh, it tastes better than honey, better than sugar. It tastes of sex and mom and naughty thoughts you kept hidden. These are the dark secrets you harbored deep inside, secrets you could never share with anyone. You know how those taboo images always excite you. You know how you relish naughty ideas. They make you hard and keep you hard for hours, and now they're real. And reality is far more satisfying than the wishes. Reality is mom's throbbing nipple slipping in and out of your tight lips. Lips that are driving mom wild, like you wanted. A nipple that is making you hard again. Dreams do come true, little Ricky. Dreams do come true."

She felt his lips tighten even more. She wormed her nipple in and out, and it was like nothing she had ever felt before. She could feel his heart beat through those pursed lips. More, she was doing it with Ricky, little Ricky who wanted mommy.

"Touch me," she said.

She felt his fingers crawl to her skirt and pull it up. Like some crustacean, his hand slipped under the skirt and down her silk panties, panties already wet. She shivered as the animal skidded along her groove, pushing in those panties just enough to stimulate her. Yes, she loved the feeling, loved the silk covered animal rubbing her. The sensation was always pleasing, even if she did it herself.

She told him to pull aside the panties and touch her skin, run his finger up and down her, top to bottom, feeling how moist she was. Her lips were as sensitive as his, and she wanted him to feel her. She told him how to touch her, which finger to use, where to place it. She instructed him on how to spread her and stroke her and rub her. He obeyed like a well-trained dog, doing exactly what she wanted when she wanted it. He kept sucking and feeling and stroking, and all the while her arousal heightened. She could tell him to touch there and there and there, and he obeyed her every whim. She could experiment with him, making him twist and turn and delve into her. She could tell him to hold still while she humped his fingers, his hand, taking them in and out like the nipple in his mouth. She was in control, in control of little Ricky and every part of his body. He was hers in more ways than she could say, totally hers.

"How does it feel now, Ricky? How does mommy feel, like your dreams? Is this how you saw you and mommy? Do you stand in the shower and jerk off thinking of fingering mommy? Do you pump that big, hard rod and wonder what it would be like to finger fuck mommy over and over exactly the way she wants it? How many times, Ricky, how many times did this scenario replay in your mind? How many times did it get you off? You love fingering mommy, making her lust for you for everything. I bet you imagined this exactly as it's happening, sucking mommy's nipple while you stroked her hot pussy."

He moaned, and that only made her lust more. She grabbed his hand and held it while she moved her hips in and out, round and round, milking his fingers for every drop of sensation. The more she felt, the more she wanted. Her heart raced as she pumped harder, using his hand like a tool, a dildo to bring off her orgasm.