Mom's Touch But Don't Look Policy

"Huh?" Mom said, "Sorry, hon. I must have fallen asleep. I was having the most wonderful dream, though..."

*

I wanted more.

I know how insane that sounds. I think it's intrinsic to the male psyche. Every pleasure merely a step on the path to the ultimate goal. And no, it's not a coincidence that the word 'ultimate' contains the word 'mate.'

It wasn't so long ago that the thought of a handjob from my mom (from any woman, what with the quarantine and all) felt like an impossible dream. Now, getting rubbed off wasn't nearly enough. We'd even moved on to oral, and it was incredible, but I couldn't settle there.

I wanted to have sex with my mother. I needed to. I just didn't know how I could make it happen.

Mom's ground rules, especially since she'd expanded them, offered some possible openings. But I knew Mom would call a stop to it if I simply rolled over her the next time we were in bed. For a moment, I considered the morning before, when I'd had the opportunity because Mom was sleeping. But I knew that wasn't the right way to do things. We both had to be conscious. Willing. Otherwise, it wouldn't work (no matter what my libido said).

But that led to all kinds of other problems. In truth, I didn't think I was actually ever going to be able to sleep with Mom. Some part of me knew I was doomed to fail. But I couldn't stop thinking about it. Obsessing. And, so, eventually, I gave in to my urges and decided to make it happen, despite the slim chances of success and the massive likelihood that I'd lose whatever privileges I'd already earned.

It didn't matter. The cock wants what the cock wants. To get to my goal, I knew I would need to be bold. It was clear that I would have to be clever. And I was sure I would require some condoms.

Sex without protection was something I didn't do. Cassie was on the pill, but we still used rubbers. It was part of the process for me, like putting on your seatbelt when you get in the car. Automatic.

Fortunately, I had a few condoms lying around my bedroom, left behind from when I'd left for college. I dug through all my drawers and secret hide-y spots and was able to find a total of five condoms of various styles and provenance. And, I told myself, I could always go out and buy more if I needed. That was awfully optimistic of me, thinking I would be running out for extra protection when it was extremely unlikely that I'd ever get to use what I already had.

So, with everything in place, I began to enact my plan.

I got my supplies and put them somewhere I could easily reach when I needed them. I staged the area, so that everything was properly organized. And then I watched, and waited, for my moment.

After dinner that night, as Mom and I did the dishes, I took the first step.

"I've enjoyed our TV time," I said, "There's a lot about this whole quarantine thing that's been awful, but the fact that it's made us so close? I can't tell you how much that means to me."

"Me too," Mom said, "Thank you for saying that. I hope you know how much I value what we have right now."

"Same," I said, "I want you to know that I would never do anything to risk the closeness we've rediscovered. Whatever happens, I hope you understand that I'm always thinking of you, of us, first."

Mom tilted her head at me, and for a moment I thought she'd figured it all out. I didn't know whether to be terrified or thrilled. Then she said, "I know honey. Soon the shelter-at-home order will end, we'll get a vaccine, you'll go back to school and I'll... Well, I guess I'll go back to whatever the hell it is I'm doing with my life."

I didn't hear it, but I swear I felt her choke back a sob.

"I know that you love me, and I don't blame you for leaving," Mom continued, "You should go and have your own life. But this, our relationship right now, just know that it will always be very special to me."

"Me too," I said.

When we were done with the dishes, I took Mom's hand and led her down to the basement. "If you're ankle is better, I think we can go back to watching down here," I said.

"Oh. OK," Mom said. She eyed me warily, like she knew I was up to something but couldn't exactly figure out what.

We went down to Dad's room. Mom noticed my handiwork immediately.

"Jay, all your hockey stuff is piled on my side of the couch."

"Oh damn," I said, "I was getting it all together for when I go back to school, and I guess I forgot it was there." I walked over and started to fiddle with the TV. I found a movie channel that was showing something quiet and forgettable. I sat down in the one open spot on the couch, pulling the strategically set blanket over my lap.

"Well, where am I supposed to sit?" Mom asked, hands on her hips. Her patience was already running thin.

"I can move all my stuff but it's really super heavy and I don't feel like dealing with it right now," I said, "I promise to move it all in the morning." I paused, savoring the moment. "Why don't you come sit on my lap, instead?"

Mom let my request hang in the air. I could see the gears turning behind her beautiful blue eyes. For a moment, I thought for sure she was about to shut it all down, and my game would be over before it started.

"Sure," Mom said. She shrugged, then walked around the couch. When she turned to sit, I moved the blanket out of the way. When she placed her butt on my leg, I covered us both.

"What are we watching?" Mom asked.

"Don't care," I said. I put my hands on her waist and pulled her back.

"Oh!" Mom said, surprised by my grip. Then my aching, hard cock made contact with her denim-covered backside. "Ohh."

"You OK?" I asked.

"Uh huh," Mom said.

"Cause I'm a little uncomfortable," I said.

"You're the one who left all his stuff on the couch," Mom said.

"No, I know," I said, "It's actually your jeans that are the problem. They're itchy on my leg."

Mom turned back to look at me, knowingly. Again, I thought the jig was up. She reached under the covers, unsnapped her jeans, then rose up to slide them over her wide hips.

Mom sat back down. Her warm, naked thighs landed on mine. Her panty-covered backside slid up against my completely uncovered dick.

Mom realized it immediately. I could tell by how she reacted. The little gasp she made as our bodies made contact. How she, unconsciously I'm sure, shimmied her butt against my bare cock. But she didn't turn around. Didn't say a word.

Mom's pants lay in a pile in front of the couch. She couldn't see it, but my own shorts and underwear were lying next to hers. I'd slipped them off as soon as I was under the blanket.

I was more than halfway to home. Already over the fence. Up the walkway. At the door. My erection pressed forward into Mom's thin panties, about to ring her doorbell. The only question was if she'd let me in.

I put my hands on Mom's hips again. Slowly, we began to slide against each other. I could feel how slippery Mom was through her underwear. Her body moved in rhythm over mine.

"This is nice, right?" I said, "The show I mean."

"Very," Mom agreed. She shifted, settling her cunt over my cock.

We sat that way for a little while, just savoring each other. I let Mom get comfortable. Her perfect posterior planted on my shaft. Legs spread lewdly under the blanket. We started to move faster. Our movements becoming more urgent.

This was the moment. While we ground into each other, I reached down and carefully pulled Mom's panties to the side. A moment later, my bare cock slid through her lips.

Both of us groaned.

"Jay, I'm not sure we..."

"You want me to change the channel?" I asked.

"I don't mean the TV," Mom said, disapproving. But her backside was telling a different story. The warmth of her pussy pressed against my dick. GodDAMN I could already feel myself responding far more than I wanted.

"What's up?" I asked, still maintaining my sense of calm. At least, in the part of me that wasn't under the covers. I have to admit, it was fun turning Mom's game against her.

"I don't think this is a good idea," Mom said.

"Watching TV?" I asked. "Cuddling?"

"You're a bastard you know that?" Mom said.

"I'm your bastard," I said.

"No," Mom said firmly, "You're my little knight. My baby boy."

I noticed she hadn't stopped sliding. In fact, her movements were becoming more defined. Driven.

"It's OK, Mom. We're under the covers."

"Honey, I don't think that's the kind of protection we need right now," Mom said.

"I've got that, too," I said.

Mom froze in place. She snapped her thighs shut. I thought she was ending the action, maybe that was her intention. But then her whole body stiffened. She arched her back. A strangled whine escaped her lips.

Mom's orgasm caused me to go over the top as well.

"UrrrrrrAH!" the growl escaped me as I burst forth. I squeezed my mother's stomach, holding her tight as I erupted. The simple knowledge that I was pressed against her pussy made my orgasm feel richer, deeper, than before. I came all over the blanket, certainly, but I know I also got a good amount on Mom's legs. Her stomach.

We sat on the couch, holding tight, like squeezing out each other's ecstasy. Then finally the pleasure subsided, and we both fell back, weak.

Mom leapt to her feet. The blanket flew off. I was staring at my mother in just her panties and a tank top. The gusset was still pulled to the side, and I could see shoots of curly, blonde pubic hair sticking out over dark, full labia. One bubbly butt cheek was completely bare. A long glob of my cum ran down Mom's shapely leg.

"I have to go," Mom said, then scampered out of the room.

I lay back, totally satisfied and completely unnerved. What had I done? And, worse, how could I get her to do it again?

*

"I'm not like your ex," Mom said, "That Kathy girl."

"Cassie," I said.

"Whatever. I'm different," Mom said.

We were sitting out in the backyard. Spring was slowly giving way to Summer. The heat was already becoming oppressive. I had my shirt off. Mom was in a tank top and shorts. Her foot rested in my crotch. I alternated between covertly rubbing against it and painting her toes a bright, fire engine red.

It was the day after our dry humping escapade. Mom didn't talk about the night before. She was weirdly silent for most of the day. But she'd also slapped my ass when we were stretching for our run and a couple times, I'd caught her doing something that looked a lot like preening when I glanced her way.

"I know you're not like Cassie, Mom," I said, kindly. I thought she meant that she wasn't a college girl; some young kid whose emotions I could play with. A girl to notch my bedpost with. She was a woman, my mom, and I had to treat her differently than I would some chick I was banging.

Which, of course. I'd never seen Mom that way, anyway. I knew she was different, which was probably why I couldn't control my attraction to her. But that's not what she was getting at, at all.

"What I mean is, I don't have some of her, what did you call them? Hang-ups," Mom said, "Kind of the opposite, actually." She was trying to make this sound like idle chat, but there was a weightiness to her words. Also, she hadn't taken her eyes off my chest since I'd taken off my shirt. "You know what I mean?" Mom asked.

She could see the confusion in my eyes. She buried her face in her hands. Stared down at the ground.

"Sperm," Mom said, speaking the word like an incantation. As if the single syllable could crack the world in half. "I like it. Like, a lot. More than I should. Obviously." She gestured at me. She looked up, took a deep, cleansing breath. But still, she stared past me.

"There's just something magical about it," Mom said, the words all spilling out of her like a crazed confession. "I mean, it's literally liquid life. Alive. The way you have to work for it. Begging, supplicant at the source. And then it spurts forth. Bursts. An explosion of writhing, rolling creatures. Penetrating, probing, pursuing. Pulsing with the essence of existence itself." She gave a little shiver. "I love it. The thought of it on me. In me. Like I can feel them wriggling around, throbbing through me. Infusing my body with this illicit energy inherited from every human who's ever lived. God, even the smell, the tang of it on the tip of my tongue. The little tickle at the back of my throat..."

Mom took a deep breath. Her eyes flitted around, like awakening from a trance.

"Oh," I said. I wasn't sure how to respond. I'd never thought of it that way. But the way Mom talked, I was totally turned on.

"Your, um, your father doesn't know," Mom said, she chewed at her thumb. "I've never told him. How I feel. I'd appreciate it if you didn't say anything."

Was that really a concern? I couldn't imagine any conversation with my father that could ever come close to getting to that content. Hey, Dad, so you know Mom has this massive cum fetish, right? Well, I was thinking...

"So anyway, you can see why what we've been doing," Mom said, "Sorry. What we may or may not be doing. You can see why that's so dangerous. For me. For us." Her voice got very quiet. "I'm scared I'll lose control."

"We're not doing anything wrong," I said. Mom glared my way. OK, she had me on that one. "I'm not going let it go too far. I mean, I have condoms."

Even to me it sounded weak.

Mom got up from her chair. She grabbed her things.

"Should we stop?" I asked, shading my eyes to look up at her.

"Stop what?" Mom replied, then marched into the house.

*

I was certain that was the end of it, but Mom told me over dinner that she was looking forward to watching TV that night.

"I think we can go back to the bedroom, though," she said, "Since the couch is covered in your stuff." My mind flashed back to my mother standing up, covered in my stuff and I blanked. That's how my mind worked now. Everything was dirty.

I agreed with Mom of course. She could have suggested we go sleep on sharpened razor blades and I'd have said 'yes' in an instant. So, after we'd finished eating and done the dishes, our usually routine, I let Mom take my hand and lead me back through the threshold of her bedroom. To the place that still, to me, felt forbidden. Of husbands and wives, not mothers and sons. Maybe that's why she wanted us there. It changed the dynamic.

I brought my iPad and set it up on the bed. Mom crawled under the covers on her side. I did the same on mine. Then I started the show. We'd started bingeing on some thing about glass blowing. We'd seen almost all the episodes which is funny because we hadn't actually watched any of them.

As soon as it started, Mom lifted her hips, and I knew she was slipping out of her jeans. There was a low rustle as she dropped them on the side of her bed. I decided to do the same. I reached for my shorts and, at the last second, decided to take off my boxers, too.

A moment later, my decision was rewarded as Mom reached over and grabbed my bare cock.

"Hm! Well, someone's feeling aggressive today," Mom said.

"What?"

"I mean that piece of sculpture, he's never going to finish it in time," Mom said.

"Oh. Right."

I reached over to find Mom's pussy was equally uncovered. Her curly pubes tickled at my palm as I dipped my pointer into her hot slot.

"If he's going to be risky like that, Mom said, "He should probably be using some kind of protection. So nothing goes wrong."

She looked at me, meaningfully. For a moment, I froze. The realization dawned on me.

"Right," I said. I took my hand out of her pussy. I'd planned for everything the night before, but for some reason it hadn't occurred to me that things were going to continue today. Quite the opposite, actually. So now I found myself undersupplied.

"I'll be right back," I said, and slipped out from under the comforter.

It didn't even occur to me that I was naked. That Mom was seeing my bare body from the waist down. My dick sticking straight outwards. Mom gasped. Her eyes focused right on my member.

Mom had touched me there innumerable times now. But she'd only seen my dick the night she sucked me off. And even then, it was under the covers and in the darkness. The way she stared now -- pupils huge, lips sucked small -- I could tell this wasn't just a casual glance.

"Ummm, sorry," I said. I reached down for my boxers and quickly pulled them on. This was becoming more disastrous by the minute.

I quickly left Mom's bedroom and hauled toward mine. I had all five condoms, waiting for me in my nightstand drawer. I grabbed a random one, tore open the packaging, and slipped it over my still-hard dick.

I practically leapt back into the bed with Mom, ripping the covers over me and stripping off my boxers. Mom giggled at my enthusiasm.

"I'm just really into this show," I said.

I expected Mom to laugh at me, but instead she touched my arm meaningfully. "Me too," she said.

Mom scooched next to me, resting her head on my shoulder. Hand on my chest. Her leg slipped up to rest on my thigh -- I could feel she was bare, below. Mom wrapped herself on to me like she was a koala, and I was a eucalyptus tree. Nuzzled her nose on my neck.

"This is OK, right?" Mom asked, quietly.

"It's just cuddling," I said, "Moms and sons cuddle."

"Right," Mom said.

She drifted her hand down my chest and under the covers. She clasped my cock. Moms and sons definitely didn't do that. Or, at least, they weren't supposed to. I stretched, settling myself for our usual stroke-fest.

But as soon as Mom felt that I was wearing the condom, she let go of my dick. She cuddled closer. I could feel the heat of her pussy on my thigh. Her shirt-covered breasts on my arm. For a moment, I wondered if there was a way I could convince her to take our tops off, too.

Mom shifted her body again, twisting till she was right on top of me. Her head now resting on my chest. Arms wrapped around me in a hug. Pussy -- oh fuck -- her pussy was in the exact right place. Directly on top of my dick.

Mom put her hands on my chest. Her eyes met mine. Our respective sexes dragged over each other.

"I like. Cuddling. This way," Mom said. Every breath short. Every word a little gasp. Already, I could feel her body trembling.

Mom ground down hard. I could tell that she'd gotten my cockhead right on her clit. She rolled her hips back and forth. Working towards her pleasure. The fact that it also felt good to me was incidental.

Seeing Mom like this -- sweat tricking down her neck, eyes locked in concentration -- her face so close I could feel her breath on my cheek, it was incredible. The sexiest thing I'd seen so far. Each little freckle. The twitch of her lip. The driving force of her body on mine.

Even better though, was the contrast of how she acted and how she looked. Mom humped up and down on me frantic, wild. But she did her best to keep her expression impassive. Her sounds swallowed.

I had to do the same. I slid my hand down her bare back and squeezed her ass. Tried to pump my hips in time to hers. But I couldn't say a word. I kept my mouth flat. My eyes distant. All I wanted to do was shout.

I could feel the heat of Mom's bare pussy on my condom-covered cock. I could feel her dripping over the latex. Her pubic hair scratched at the base of my dick. The physicality of everything we were doing was already over the top. The fact that it was getting both of us off was almost the least important part.

Mom started to tremble. Her body shook. Movements erratic.

"She gasped, then turned her head away, biting down on her lip.

I grabbed Mom's ass with both hands and started to slide up and down. As Mom's orgasm overtook her, my own raced out of my shaft. I filled the condom. My mother experienced the same illicit energy. Both of us so close to connected.

"I, um, need to use the bathroom," I said as casually as I could once both of us came down. Mom was lying over me, panting. Slick with sweat. She looked my way and nodded.