Mom Unlocks the Shyness Enigma

As I closed the call with Jimmy, I turned to face my faculty advisor and tried to read Dr. Fukhert's facial reactions. She had sat quietly listening to my nearly two-hour conversation with James Herbert. Her facial expressions said, 'He has possibilities, but he will need a lot of work.'

"So what do you think, doctor?" I asked, waiting for her preliminary assessment as my fingers returned to work.

"Teresa Ann, are you sure you want to take on your sexology certification thesis on Incestual Relations between Mother and Son?" she countered rather than giving me a direct answer. I could tell that spelled hesitancy and thought perhaps I hadn't chosen as well as I had believed. Incest was a rare, taboo research subject, even among scholars, as its stigma carried many prejudices. And that's precisely why I chose the subject to explore. With so few researchers willing to pursue the forbidden topic, I thought I would have a good shot at getting recognition on a level with Masters and Johnson during the early sexual awakening revolution. My master's thesis on Father and Daughter Incestual Relations had been written to be the springboard for my Ph.D. roadmap to national and perhaps international recognition. Getting the next level of study in my sexology and Ph.D. certification, using the mother and son aspect, would mean I could name my position among the top universities and book publications. I just needed to gather enough subject matter to write them! One such subject, serendipitously, had cut my grass ... and speared my ass, to put it crassly.

I gave my thesis counselor, Dr. Fukhert, my 'southern blonde impression look' as I knelt beside her to gather the papers she had sorted across my living room floor. Stacking them, it was easy to make my way between her knees and gently nudge an opening between them.

"Somebody has to do it, Doctor Fukhert. Didn't you once tell me I was eminently qualified in that field?" I murmured, as my hands lightly stroked their way up her bare thighs to that wonderfully exposed puss. It seemed to beckon at me while I was on the phone with James Herbert. Now, without interruption, I could return to where I had left off two hours ago. I smiled, as the good doctor's puss slid forward on the cushion to receive my tongue.

A good student always knows on which side her bread is buttered! I had just proven that by persuading the good doctor to agree with my thesis topic. It was just as easy as seducing Jimmy and having him decide to become a subject in the study and his doting mother! I could see Dr. Fukhert's agreement written upon that tautly drawn face. She struggled to embrace the passion I poured into her cunt and the euphoric rush that racked her body when she climaxed, while my tongue burrowed inside her cunty.

As I knelt, languidly lapping up her abundant lubricants in post-coital bliss, I ruminated over Dr. Fukhert's comment about being sure of the research topic. It did give me some cause for concern. It was a new, inexperienced territory. I had, after all, an in-depth working knowledge of the Father and Daughter experience. That side of it still gives me trembles at night, knowing that my father is imprisoned for the next twenty years for what he did.

'Maybe Teresa Ann had been abducted by aliens,' I thought. She sure didn't act like anyone on Earth that I knew. In my fitful sleep, my hands probed Teresa Ann's cunt as she sucked my nipples, and I plowed my cock into Mom's ass. They both had crazed, dazed looks as I worked them into a frenzy, until their bodies seized and lapsed into rapture. It's incredible how prolific you can become in your dreams. Thor was relentless in his pounding of both. Six holes and so many different positions! Yet, even in your dreams, the blood pounding in your eardrums and the thumping in your chest can only stand up to so much nut crunching; then the body folds and your mind swirls into a pit of blackness. At that point, you fall into that dreamless state, totally spent.

Teresa Ann was right about Dad, though. Twice in the night and again early at dawn this morning, I was stirred awake and heard the distinct sounds of loud sex noises coming from the other end of the hallway. I never heard Dad grunt like that before. Teresa Ann sure knew her 'sexpert' stuff! She, indeed, had called it correctly when she said to open my door, naked, and share my cum with Mom. She must have gone off on Dad. Whether the tattoo was Mom's or Teresa Ann's idea, it was a potent sex stimulus for Dad and me.

I entered the kitchen in the morning after Dad had made a trip to an open house showing. I was greeted by the smell of ham and scrambled eggs permeating the air. Mom poured coffee for us, and eased into her chair as I approached the table. I noted that and smiled, thinking she did so because of those noisy sex sounds I heard through the night and again just before Dad got up this morning. Without Dad's presence, our eyes had only each other to focus upon, and they seemed to do that guilty mind-meld thing as I pulled out my chair to sit down.

"About yesterday..." I started to say, as my eyes locked onto those bright-emerald, Irish eyes. But Mom fended off my conversation by raising her hands to stop me from talking.

Her gaze broke as she said, "Eat first, then we'll talk." With that, the tone was set. We ate quietly, with a tenuous comment about how good the ham and coffee tasted. Although Mom's gaze was the first to break, mine remained fixed on those soft, braless orbs inside her housecoat. I couldn't see any pajamas under it -- just the furled housecoat cupping two beckoning breasts.

My thoughts turned to yesterday afternoon. I had watched those soft tits rocking back and forth as she stood spreadeagled, bent over, and holding onto the kitchen sink as my cock pistoned, thrust upon repeated thrust into and out of her butt. I watched as her nipples peaked into eraser-hard nubs. The crescendo of lust building within her was amazing to see. Slow and methodical at first, I enjoyed having my cock sliding into that wonderful warm hole. A growing smile crossed my face as her breathing became stronger, burning within her as her flat tummy muscles expanded and contracted to match her gasps. Yesterday afternoon, our eyes had been locked into one another. That mixed look of angst and want played across her face as we breached the acts that mothers and sons didn't discuss.

That look disappeared when something within her took over. Perhaps, it was the release of her pheromones that triggered my sexual arousal. Whatever the cause, it snapped her eyes shut simultaneously as her mouth opened and let out a series of moans. At that point, I realized she gave herself to me. I owned her body to do with as I pleased. Her mind had managed to separate the taboo elements from the pleasure jolting through her core. That left her body to relish the enjoyment of the endorphins building within her. By then, her tits were rocking rhythmically with my jabs into her body. Amidst those moments, her hips tried to catch up with my rhythm. I felt her cunt contract around my probing fingers. Somewhere in the swelling moments, I had closed my eyes and gave up trying to be considerate. I gave up thinking that I was fucking Mom. My dick went slap-happy! I just jackhammered her until I came with a fantastic series of gasps.

Those thoughts replayed in my mind when, inevitably, breakfast was finished, and the last dredges of our coffee cups were drained. Only the 'then we'll talk moments' remained. Mom was quietly, mindlessly fussing with her plate and silverware, probably rehearsing what she knew had to be said. I, too, was doing some soul-searching for words to express what, why, and how yesterday's events unfolded. Neither of us moved or seemed to want to start the discussion.

"Tell me from the beginning," I began, short and to the point.

"Jimmy, I guess..." Mom began, and I quickly interrupted her by borrowing a line from Teresa Ann's telephone dialog last night.

"Please, Mom, call me James! Yesterday, Teresa Ann said she had laid Jimmy to rest and resurrected James in his stead; a more mature and worldly image for me or words to that effect."

A slight smile crept upon Mom's face as she thought about my request. "I can see a difference in you also today, James. Something is definitely different. You seem a bit more confident... more strident," she said, acknowledging what Teresa Ann had managed to forge within me.

"James, it began several months ago when I found a strange business card pinned to the bulletin board at the beauty salon. It was very fancy, with gilded and embossed print. It had Teresa Ann's name and number. It... well, it was kind of intriguing, particularly about the sex training thing. I immediately thought about you and how you are always shy around girls. So, I took one of her cards, called her, and hired her to..."

"You paid her to... fuck me!" I exclaimed, bursting into her response before she could finish. I was astonished to hear that coming from my mother's mouth.

"Now, James! Please don't get your feathers all ruffled up over it. It's not like mothers haven't set up a first-time experience for their sons before! It was common for young men to get their first experiences in those bordello places or arrangements with their mom's sisters or cousins. Besides, you seemed to be so shy that I was beginning to think you would rather spend time masturbating in bed than actually asking a girl out to... well, get laid, finally." Her lips snapped shut as she stopped to catch her breath.

I thought about what she said. I could see her point to a degree. I barely ever spoke to girls at school or anywhere else. And jerking off in bed did seem to get the relief I needed. Well, at least it felt that way until I had actual sex with Teresa Ann and Mom for the first time yesterday! And indeed, knowing how great that felt, the idea of flagellating Thor from here on out would not cut it. I knew from here on that I would need an alternative outlet with an equally responsive set of lower lips.

"Well, if this was about me getting into a girl, how did that tattoo thing and you get into the picture of my getting laid?" I asked next.

"I'm not exactly sure, James, how that came about," she said, as she looked down at her plate and into my eyes again.

"We talked a lot about you, your shyness around girls, and how much I wanted you to come out of your shell. I know what it was like to be shy at your age, and I told her I wanted to build up your confidence with girls. At first, we talked about getting you into a good comfort zone by speaking to girls and not having sex with you. But, somewhere along the way, she asked me how I felt about you and... maybe personally helping. I wasn't sure what she meant by that until we discussed mother-son relationships a few days later," she added in a reflective tone, as though she was replaying her conversations with Teresa Ann.

"That's when she asked me if I had any tattoos," Mom continued as she recalled that conversation.

"'Lord, no! Teresa Ann, someone my age doesn't go around with tattoos; at least, they didn't when I was younger. Jimmy's dad, who was in the Navy, doesn't even have one.'" Mom recalled telling her as she filled me in on what led up to the tattoo part.

Mom's audible exhalation seemed a bit stressed, but she continued with her recollection, "I could see Teresa Ann's eyes light up when I told her Daddy was in the Navy. At that point, she suggested that I get a tat, she called it, of something that would draw your attention to me and sort of... give your Daddy a reminder of his earlier days... some encouragement in the process. Before I realized it, she had also drawn me into helping alleviate your shyness!"

"James, the more I talked with Teresa Ann, the more the topic veered toward how she thought you felt about me and also about if I had any thoughts about... well, about doing things with you. I wouldn't have answered those questions if she hadn't been a licensed sexologist! Certainly not about the questions she asked about catching you whacking off Thor in your room that day; I came in and... well, saw your Mt. Vesuvius eruption going up your chest!" she said, then added a giggle at the thought of what that had looked like that afternoon.

I had to smile at that description, too. I mean, I always wondered what she thought about her viewpoint of that -- now I know.

"Wait! You know about Thor?" I stammered, realizing she just called my dick by his name.

"Jesus, Jimmy, er, James! You realize your room has a hollow core door, and it's not like you keep the noise down when you're screaming, 'Thor, screw that bitch!' So yeah, I know about Thor, and so does your Daddy!" she grinned, as she acknowledged my poorly kept secret.

"Teresa Ann wanted to know if I had ever wanted to act on some of those mother-son thoughts. So, I gave her an honest answer. Her reply was, 'Well, I guess I would say it was very assuring that I didn't or shouldn't have any remorse because of it'," she added pensively while carefully watching my face for negative signs during her revelation.

"I guess I know how you answered that question already," I responded. And then added, "Mom, so did I. That tattoo thing just provided the spark to act on it."

"One more puzzle piece, Mom. How did Teresa Ann wind up buying the house across the street?"

"I mentioned it was going up for sale, I guess, and gave her one of your Daddy's cards with the listing. She mentioned she needed a big place for ... I think it was space for some studies thing."

As Mom stood up to clear the table, a sign that the conversation was ending, she remarked, "I suppose that Teresa Ann figured that out, too, James. Anyway, she steered me to a place to get that tattoo, emphasizing that Dad would enjoy it as well. Which, by the way, he does! In my mind, I knew she was using that tat as a bridge between us."

"Maybe, Mom," I replied, but as I spoke, a strange set of thoughts rumbled around in the 'don't-go-there-drawer' in the back of my mind. If Teresa Ann's actions were about getting Mom and I sexually connected, what was all that talk last night about helping her with a research project that would make me more like 'James Herbert Bond' than I would ever know?

Mom, as an afterthought, came around the table to hug me. "Did I hurt you?" she asked, while squeezing me tightly against her. It was that pleasant motherly hug, the kind you get when you present her with a wildflower you picked on the way in from a summer's walk through the woods. It's the thought she appreciates and that counts the most. It was that kind of hug. I knew her inquiry wasn't about physical coercion; instead, it was directed at the type of hurt that doesn't leave exterior scares. Those that reside sincerely within the emotional psyche.

I couldn't allow this morning's conversation to sink into a dark cloud, so I answered, "No, Mom, you didn't break Thor. He is okay and is thinking about you now," I answered facetiously.

She chuckled as she squeezed me against those soft, pliant orbs. "No, silly! I mean up here," she said, tapping her forefinger on my head amidst my curly Irish locks.

Roping my arms around her waist, I pulled her firmly against me. "I didn't say thank you yesterday for arranging that... foray into Teresa Ann's blonde forest. I should have. And thank you for your gift, too. I think some of that shyness has been vanquished because of it. If you are okay with what we did, Mom, you certainly didn't hurt my mental state. I enjoyed it. I'd like more of it; second helpings, please!" I mumbled as my face mushed between those warm, pear-shaped orbs and found my way to an inviting set of nipples to nibble. This morning's worries were beginning to lighten like gray skies turning blue. The dark swirling cloud that hung over our heads from yesterday's crossing the taboo line, turned bright and fluffy white, as Mom and I put those worries to rest.

"Okay, James Herbert, just go easy today. Your Daddy already has me a bit sore from some early morning Navy exercises!" she sighed, as my lips sucked in a stiffening nipple. She groaned as my tongue lapped her aureole, bringing them to hardened tips. Sucking in the first one, then the other, I lightly gripped them between my incisors and tugged them, stretching them until they snapped back. Her hands cupped the back of my head and drew me downward as her robe parted. This morning, my guess was correct about the lack of clothing beneath her housecoat. I was on an unimpeded journey to my first oral encounter with Mom. The softness, the newness of kissing those swollen lips, was something yesterday's lust had glossed over. Today, I intended to make up for that. I felt the tremor in her thighs as she guided me. I could hear her breathing quicken as I found the spot that caught my attention. When her body finally demanded more than her mind, she let me go until her well-exercised hips couldn't buck anymore. I steeled my body and strove to ride her slowly and methodically. The feeling of heat building in my core flooded my body, turning my face to flame. Thor surged against her loins like a driving rain, unable to hold back.

Despite saying to go easy on her, as Dad had already worked her body over during the early dawn hours, Mom's body pushed the envelope, demanding more. Getting fucked hard by me must have felt great because her body bucked against mine, demanding every ounce of pleasure I could give her. Finally, she succumbed to her release and collapsed, panting beside me. With Mom's head nestled in the crook of my arm, I watched her gasps become just soft breaths and more rhythmic after her climax. I could tell those endorphins that had spilled out of her brain were at work, lulling her into a restful sleep. As her body melted against me and her grip on my flaccid hammer loosened, my thoughts turned to Teresa Ann.

'I'll get around to your next lawn mowing and perhaps find out more about this mysterious thesis assignment in which I had agreed to participate.' I tried to visualize the rampage against her body yesterday. Still, those images were blurred, caused by the excitement of seeing her pussy plastered against that patio window and then ramming my cock into it as I stood her up against the glass door -- nailed her and her ass both. But that vision was quick and dim now. I needed another run at her -- just a lot slower this time as with Mom. I could feel a grin spread across my face as I thought about how she promised that I could have access to her toolbox anytime, and just now, that thought brought back the image of replacing that carrot in her rear end with Thor!

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