Mom's An Art!

Hugging her body in that soft satin, she felt to me more like a desert. While she hugged me when I was wearing my long shorts, she ran her hand around my pants more than I did in her desert. We were deserts for each other, our sweet and softness were explored by our hands, while our carnal desires froze in the cold breeze and our bodies increased the temperature. But something snapped, like a magnet our male and female parts stuck to each other outside the clothing and our hearts began to fervor. Our bodies began to sweat.

She no longer looked at me like she wanted me, she looked at me like she already had me. I no longer looked at her like the woman she was all my life, but what she'll be. Within seconds, our fingers intertwine, within fragments, our clothes tear each other's clothes off and lie on the floor. I see her wearing her bra and panties sitting on top of me, while I was laying with only underwear. Our burning bodies increased the heat in boiling passions. Our lips entangled and touched, tasted and slurped our tongues. Our fingers traced the thin clothing we wore while fondling and rustling what lies underneath.

We were engrossed, rustled, fermented, our passions rose with our breaths and our bodies humped like it never could. She started dancing while I stayed relaxed. I started dwindling while she sucked my lips.

But something stopped, time stopped, our heartbeat stopped. She recoiled in her bed covering herself in her blanket while I sat beside her. Her face showed shame and guilt, while my face showed hunger and anger. My finger traced her shoulder, she snapped it away. I crawled beside her and hugged her. She started crying. She cried a lot that day. Hiding her body under that blanket, her tears rolling up from her eyes and drenching her ears, my nose, and my lips. I drank her tears and kissed her on her shoulder and held her.

We were held close. We were held tight. She sobs with the passing time. We lay part naked, staring at the ceiling quietly.

"I don't want you to get a bad image of me," she told me.

"I won't," I said.

"What we are doing is wrong," she said.

I nodded.

"I'm your mom, we aren't supposed to be like this," she said.

"Yeah" I nodded.

"Son, would you do something for me," she asked.

"What?" I asked.

"A favor?" she asked.

I looked in her eyes and I saw a blank slate.

"I know I may come across to you as weird as someone would," she said.

"No, mom, please," I said.

"I think we should be more naked in front of each other, and accept ourselves," she said.

"What?"

"Yeah, that'd encourage our art, our literature, and encourage us to be comfortable with ourselves being naked," she said.

"But..."

"But, only for the time being, I don't want you to crave my body as a monster would," she told me.

"Mom, I don't crave you like a monster," I said.

"Yeah, I saw that last night," she said.

"Also I have seen that last night what you craved and what you don't," I said.

"Let's not fight about this," she said.

She threw the blanket away and slandered on the bed staring at the ceiling. I recoiled into her body more. My parts hugged her now, more than her's. She then turned around, we were so close, our breaths collided. Our skins burned and our adrenaline rose. Our hearts thumped.

She slid the bra strand off her shoulder and then another, I watched her cleavage hang loose. She undid the loosely held bra from her back and the bra silently slid off. It was the first time I had seen those sets of nipples this close. I have been yearning to suck them. I have been crazy for them for hours and they are here. In front of me lie the beauty of my mother, my mother's motherhood.

How can I resist the temptation to touch it? How can I resist the temptation to fondle it? How can I resist any temptation at all? 3

I breathed harder than I could, she lay there silent. I huddled her chest to be lost in the oblivion of the naked cleavage. I found paradise. There was nothing here, no work, no pressure, just her soft skin and her nipples and her sweat, and her fragrance.

I crawled my lips over those nipples and stuck my lip on it. She turned around and backed off. She slid her hand over my shorts and slipped the short down. There she saw the rising boner poking her thigh. The air relaxed it, her hand relaxed it. She touched it, ran her finger on it.

I wobbled and enraged by desire. How can I push her to me more? I pushed her body to me. My dick stuck in her palm, and my hand explored her butt.

My palms relished her ass, as I spanked her and slid the underwear off.

We were stark naked in front of each other with no air in between. Our breaths expanded and contracted. Her hands stopped rustling through my boner, my hands stopped rustling on her ass. But it rested onto each other. I placed my hand on her pussy and it was hot and dribbled her sweet cum. She kept her palm wrapped on my boner and it dribbled my precum.

We rested there like that frozen into each other's bodies, not doing anything. We got lost in our eyes again.

Time again we here lie naked. We licked our dry lips off desire. Something stuck there, something stopped. Maybe she didn't want to take it further. Maybe I was too scared to take it anywhere. Maybe we both were too scared. In this fear of our fierce passions igniting, we left them ignited and burning, I rested my boner between her thighs when she wore her underwear. We covered both our bodies in the blanket. I was still stuck to her body, to her bosom.

She was still stuck onto my body.

Within our heads we thought a thousand things, thousand times only to realize what we're doing is wrong. But we wanted to do it anyway.

"Let's work on the last scene," she said after a while.

"But you wanted me to rewrite the chapters again," I asked.

"Not now, we'll work through only when needed," she said.

"The story is finished mom, we need to send it to the editor," I said.

"Yeah, let's finish it," she said.

"Who'll write the last scene," I asked.

"Well," she said.

"Both?" I asked.

"Yes," she said.

"How?" I asked.

"I'll write my perspective on sex and you will yours," she said.

"How are we gonna edit then?" I asked.

"We will work through it," she said again.

We sprang from the bed and ran to the room. It was our writer's den she used to call it. We sat on our laptops. We were still naked. I worked on my scene and she on hers. Our ideas of lust and love united in the last scene. Our ideas of passion united. We wrote the best scenes in our careers. Her nipples danced in the cold of the room. My throbbing cock throbbed harder as I wrote it. Then we looked into each other's eyes. And saw ourselves as our characters, sitting naked in front of each other, exploring their fantasies. Peering into one's soul and pouring our hearts onto them. I mailed the scene to her and she mailed her scene to me. When we read it we understood. Our ideas of love were different. She wanted easy, slow romantic love. While I wanted the hard one. She wanted lovemaking while I wanted only hard sex. Our words and definitions of sexualities overlapped and it created a new scene. We merged both of our scenes. Where the sex is hard, there is pain, there is anger, there is rage, pure sex but there is also love, with the sweet kisses and moans of pleasure. Slow sensual sex when both get tired of anger they find their solace in love. When reading the scenes out loud something evoked. She stood close to my desk and I stood. Now we knew what we had for each other in our minds. We knew what we wanted to do. I wanted to tie her to the rope and hit her as hard as I can. But she wanted me to be over her body and swoon her into myself slowly and sensually. But we revised the scene again ignoring our lust and passion. We worked like real artists only we were drugged to each other's bodies. Then we sat there relaxed and worn out by the day's work.

"You tied the woman and fucked her hard," she said.

"But, I also made love to her," I said.

"You crawled on top of the boy and danced around," I said.

"But, I also slapped and cursed him," she said.

"I love your idea of sex. It is unique and enlightening" I said.

"I like your idea of sex too, it is painful but relieving too," she said.

"I wonder how'd it feel when you do that," she asked and stood in front of me.

I wanted to answer. She grabbed my head and pulled me to her face. I stood close to her and stared straight in her eyes. She wanted to get taken into the arms of a restless male. She wanted to get beaten and slapped. She looked at me with hunger and coy, while I looked at her in confusion. I didn't know whether to give her what she wanted. I slid my hands into her underwear again and began rubbing her ass. I slapped it, spanked it. She moaned, and her voice echoed in my ears. I fondled her ass more and more, humping her to my dick. She snuggled her chest into my face and I bit her nipple.

"Aah," she made a sound.

"Wanna get badly fucked?" I asked.

"Oh, yes," she replied, shouting in my ear.

I turned her around and held her throat hard. I choked her and bit her ear hard. As my pointy teeth bit her ear and my hand grabbed her throat my other worked on her pussy, it was slithery and wet. It was creamy by then. I bent her down and smacked her butt.

"Aah," she shouted again with her hanging loose cleavage, while I fondled its nipples.

Her ass had redness around it. I take my throbbing cock and shove it inside my hungry pussy. And lets out a moan, a sigh. I hit her hard, I hit her fast, I bang her while tearing her part. Her legs trembling, her body snuggling into mine or trying to. Her hands trying to touch me but I was too busy hating her, loving her. I gave her slaps on her ass, on her chest. I groped her nipples hard and pinched them while I thrust deep and fast in and out. She wails and cries, she shakes and sways her head into anger and frustration. She has lost control and I have gained. But this doesn't satisfy me. I back off and look at her standing there. I don't feel anything now. My rage has gone so is hers. Maybe this kind of sex is just a fantasy for me. She turns around and touches me. Then we kiss again.

She slides her hand on my body. Moves her hard across it, pleasing me, making her mine. She pushes me down on the floor. I got down, I thought I was in control but mom was taking it. I lay on my back and she lies on my top. Before entering me, she kisses her. Her hair comes to her side and waves my face, the smell of her hair fills me with passion.

I kiss her nipples again. I play with them while she plays with my dick. She then slowly slides my throbbing dick into her slithery pussy. For the first time, we were facing each other. She shows love on her face, I see her to her fullest. She slowly rides me, taking care of me, while smothering my body with hers. She slowly turns in and out, my dick slithers and swoons into her. She shakes and wakes the desires burning. We kiss the deepest kiss we had ever, we suck our tongues the deepest we have ever. Our hands explored our bodies again, but it was gentle and slow.

Like a soft breezy stream of water flowing out from fountains, she came but withheld it. Like the burning lava, I was about to cum but withheld it. We slowed down to the lowest we could. Stuck in each other's love we rode the slightest we could. We were alive but we were also dead in our lust. We were intertwined. She moans the loudest moans echoing the whole room while I rub her nipples. She glides on top of me again fast and slow like a performed dance move and I follow through. There is nothing sexier like an experienced woman having sex. Then she rides fast and fasteners the heartbeat. Evoking our deep passions again, igniting them to their heaviest. She slaps me and bites my lips when she kisses me. I slap her ass hard as I can withholding my cum, my orgasm. She then slows down, and glides and slides again, slowest she could be. It was dance, it was a passionate dance of tantric lovemaking. She was a fan of tantra all her life. She wanted to practice it with someone she never could have imagined it would be me.

I threw her on the bed taking charge. I kissed her on her lips entering her again. She folded her legs behind my back and pushed her harder into her, deeper. The deeper I went the more I lost myself, the farther I glided the farther I lost. The slower I went the faster our hearts beat, the faster I went the slower our heart rested. We smacked and ate our tongues. Like ravenous monsters relishing their delicious meal devouring each bite. We devoured our bodies, bit by bite, lick by lick. Our tongues were dried with the taste of our skin. Our lips desired with our tastes. Our skins were pouring out sweat as we made love.

I didn't, I made sure to slow down, I made sure to be fast enough and I made sure to pull back the enraging cum inside me while she did the same. We were riding in orgasmic ecstasy all evening, the smell of the room was heavy and heated with lust, our eyes longed to relieve us from the burden of ourselves. But our bodies wanted more sex, more love, more tantra. I bite her and she shouts, and she bites me and I shout. We throbbed with our desires on top of each other. She sat on my lap and folded her legs, I remained sitting. She danced over me, slowly and quickly while I pushed her and pulled her out and in. The love grew more and more than it ever could. Our bodies thrashed and ignited more fire which burned through our skins. Our lips tasted our dried up bodies, more than it could ever. But nobody stopped. Nobody slowed down and gave up.

It was rounds and rounds of dancing in the drugged ecstasy of orgasm. For hours and hours on the go, we let go of our desires.

Our backs hurt, our heads tired, our neck craned, our bodies gave up, but the lust didn't.

We stopped and lied on top of each other. Rubbing our bodies with our fingers and caressing them.

I have never made love to anyone like this and she has never. It was meeting god. It was like going on a trip to heaven and staying there. Our heads pained, our eyes were relaxed. We played on top of each other and didn't speak a word. But something needs to be said.

"Your love is greater than my love," I said.

"Finally you gave up," she said.

"Yeah, it was like dancing with desire," I said.

"Dancing with desire is nice," she said.

"I think it would make a good name for our story," I said.

"Yeah, our story?" she asked.

"Yes, those loves in that story are us, teasing each other I the first and then uniting in the end," I told her.

"Lying on each other exasperated to make love more and more" she completed my sentence.

We kissed again, but it was deep and long. We made love again, slow and sensual. We rode each other again, and that's how the whole day went.