My Kinky Grandmother Ch. 02

I felt gritty-eyed and tired for most of the day and unable to concentrate. I thought almost constantly about my mother and what my grandmother had told me, when I should have been thinking about work-related things. I got very hard and had to go to the gents' toilet to masturbate.

Five o'clock was a blessed release and time for me to go home and carry on thinking about my bizarre situation. I sat in my favourite chair with a mug of tea and stared through the window at the lowering clouds and the shoppers across the road.

I wanted my mother. Had probably wanted her subconsciously for years. And why not? She was still only middle-aged, she was very attractive and with a mature and curvaceous body built for giving sexual pleasure, or so I told myself. And apparently she wanted me. And, if I was truthful, there was a certain thrill about the idea of giving the stuck-up cow a good seeing to.

But how did it work? Who made the first, perhaps crucifyingly embarrassing move? I believed my gran when she said that my mother was "available to me", but how did the mechanics work? Did I just pop round and take her to bed? Did I wine and dine her first? Would she be expecting my advances? That last one was the clincher. In the end I called my grandmother. She answered after about ten rings.

'Sorry, darling, I was on the loo.'

'Look, Debra, about what you were saying last night, about mum being available.'

'Yes?'

'Well I was sort of wondering how it worked. If I wanted to... you know... take it further, what should I do? I mean I know what to do,' I gabbled, 'it's just the first move and how that works, for both of us.' I was blushing heavily.

There was a silence while my grandmother presumably translated and digested my little speech.

'I think I know what you are getting at, Matthew, and honestly I don't think you've anything to worry about. Your mum will welcome you with open arms, I'm sure.'

'But would it be better if she was prepared? If she knew I was coming round to have sex with her?'

'Yes, I see what you mean.' There was a pause. 'Would you like me to give her a call before you go around?'

'Oh would you? That would be really kind of you!'

'Yes, it would, wouldn't it,' said my grandmother, drily, 'since she'll be getting that lovely cock of yours instead of me. When were you thinking of seeing her?'

'Well, tonight.'

'Tonight? Have you still got some lead left in your pencil after last night?'

'Yes, thank you,' I replied huffily.

Debra laughed. 'Just teasing. I'll give her a ring as soon as we've finished, then I'll call you back.'

She was as good as her word. About half an hour later the phone rang and it was my grandmother again.

'I spoke to your mum, Matthew,' she began and my guts tightened. 'She's thrilled that you want to go round and enjoy her.' I breathed a sigh of relief. 'But I'm glad you called me and I called her. She's understandably nervous, she's not a wanton creature, like me, and she's your mother; the incestuous link is stronger than with you and me. A bigger taboo to break. 'So she won't offer you tea or anything like that or make small talk. She'll be ready for you.'

'She's not the only one who's nervous,' I said. 'Is it really going to happen?'

'Well if you go round tonight I would say yes, it is. And I have a request. A demand, actually.'

'What's that?'

'I want you to come round on Friday evening and ram that big, thick cock into me and while you're doing that I want you to tell me all the gory details about you and Ruth. Agreed?'

'Yes, agreed.'

'Good. Now I'm going to put the phone down and go and find my biggest vibrator and I'm going to masturbate and fuck myself until my arms ache while I fantasise about my daughter and my grandson. Goodbye, Matthew. And don't keep your mother waiting too long.' The phone went dead.

I didn't give myself time to think. Instead I tore off my clothes and showered, paying especial attention to my genitals. Then I shaved and brushed my teeth and dressed in a fresh shirt and packed a small overnight bag. It was a thirty-five-minute walk to my mother's house, or a ten-minute drive. I took the car.

Mum must have been watching from the sitting room window, behind the net curtains, because as soon as I opened the front door she appeared in the hallway.

'Hello, Matthew. How lovely to see you,' she said, quietly.

'Hello, Mum,' I replied, also quietly.

We stood looking at one another for about ten seconds. My mother looking at her only son, her only child. Now grown and sexually active and able and willing to sleep with her, to satisfy her in a way that a son should never satisfy his mother. I have no idea if that's what she was thinking.

I was looking at a mature, middle-aged lady of exquisite countenance, heavily made up, her dark hair cascading over her neck and shoulders in a gleaming wave. She was wearing a black, silk kimono, the sash loosely tied around her waist.

With her eyes on me, she loosened the sash and, taking one lapel in each hand, she slowly opened the gown to reveal herself to me. Beneath it she was naked, apart from black stockings and a suspender belt. And the inevitable high-heels, of course.

I gulped and dropped my overnight bag on the floor and, stepping up to her, I put my arms around her waist and pulled her to me. She wrapped her arms around my neck and our lips met and I closed my eyes and felt their fullness and softness and I tasted her lipstick and she opened her mouth and I opened mine and her tongue slipped between my lips and I tasted her saliva and her perfume and my head span with the multitude of new and erotic sensations.

It was like kissing my grandmother for the first time, except more powerful. As she had said, the incestuous link was stronger and so, therefore, were the feelings of forbidden love, of dark desires and secret lusts. I sucked at my mother's upper lip and she raked her dark-green nails across my back and I shuddered with arousal and thrust my tongue deep into her mouth, feeling her teeth and gums and tasting her breath, sweet with toothpaste.

We kissed for a long time. Maybe ten minutes, maybe more. Then we stopped, forehead to forehead - my mother was about the same height as me in her heels - both breathing deeply.

'Are we ok?' I asked, softly.

'Oh yes, Matthew. We're very ok.'

I slipped her kimono off her shoulders and it rustled to the floor. Tilting my head, I kissed her again, slower this time, working my lips gently against hers, flicking my tongue, feeling the tip of hers against mine. And as we kissed I cupped one of her breasts, feeling its size and firmness, it's weight in my hand, feeling her big nipple, stiff and knobbly. I squeezed her nipple gently and she moaned softly into my mouth and pushed her hips forward against me, rubbing herself against my crotch.

If I had been surprised at my recently awakened feelings for my mother, now I was overwhelmed by the strength of those feelings. A tidal wave of lust and desire washed over me, and there was love there, too, and tenderness.

My mother broke the kiss and looked at me. 'Shall we go upstairs? Someone might come to the door.'

I took her hand and walked up the stairs, leading her to her bedroom, the big one at the front of the house.

'I'd better draw the curtains,' she said. 'It'd look funny if the neighbours saw you doing it.'

In the gloom I took her in my arms and kissed her again and stroked her neck and shoulders and ran my hands across her back and down to her heavy buttocks, partially covered by her suspender belt. I pressed her crotch to me, feeling my erection press against her.

'Why don't you get onto the bed, while I undress?'

She crawled onto the big, king-size bed and rolled onto her back, watching me as I undressed, her hands crossed over her pussy.

I had imagined undressing before my mother and had worried that it would be too weird. But now, in her bedroom, after the kisses and the feel of her body, it felt natural to shed my clothes, to expose myself completely to the woman who had birthed me, twenty-four years ago.

Naked, and with my cock an iron-hard banana, pointing to my chin, I climbed onto the bed with my mother and lay by her side. She turned her head and we kissed, light, pecking kisses while I stroked her big breasts and squeezed her nipples, pulling at them gently, gauging her reaction.

She gave little gasps as I squeezed harder, kissing her lips and cheeks and neck, smelling her familiar scent, the one she always used, the one I remembered smelling when she kissed my cheek and sent me off to school. Her hand was on me, stroking my arm, caressing my cheek, her lips working magic against my mouth, her breath hot on my face.

Good God, was this really the woman who all my friends thought was a stuck-up and snooty bitch? If only they could see me now! They'd all fancied her, despite the fact she'd usually been rude to them. And now here she was, mine for the night, and perhaps forever. My mother, but not my mother. A different and exotic creature. A mature lady of devastating allure. And here was I, lying next to her, naked, my hand now tracing her sternum, her tummy, with its little bulge of fat, skirting her loins, feeling the heat and softness of her inner thighs, slipping my fingers under her suspenders and over her stocking tops and, at last, feeling the thick, silky mat of her pubic hair and the outline of her labia beneath.

She moaned again and opened her legs, bending her knees and spreading her thighs, allowing me access, allowing me in. I cupped her hairy vulva and squeezed it gently, massaging the fatty, hair-covered mound and my mother gasped and whispered, 'Yes please,' into my mouth.

I parted her labia with my fingers and slid my middle finger inside my mother for the first time, feeling the wetness of her arousal, shuddering with the anticipation of penetrating her, of taking her fully and irrevocably. I fucked her gently with my finger, pushing deep inside her, then coming out and tracing the folds of her skin, finding her clitoris in its little hood.

It was her turn to shudder. A tear welled in her eye and trickled down her cheek and I kissed it and licked it away, tasting the saltiness, while I slid a second finger into her velvet depths and she moaned and reached for my erection, stroking me with light touches of her fingertips, smearing my sticky seminal fluid around the swollen head.

I slid my fingers in and out, then used a fingertip to massage her little bud, making her writhe gently and gasp with pleasure. Round and round went my fingertip, up and down went her hand on my cock and our lips met with exquisite intimacy and I felt as though I had never been so close to another human being.

I rubbed my fingertip harder, pressing into her clitoris, sensing through her noises and motions that her climax was approaching.

At the end she arched her back and threw her head back and cried out, 'Yes, yes, yes', as her orgasm swept through her and she released my cock and threw her arm around me and kissed me savagely, her teeth on my lips, as the sensations peaked and died away, leaving her gasping and limp.

For me, there's always a time in a seduction, the first time you have intercourse with a girlfriend, that the act of penetration becomes inevitable. I always savour that moment, feel my guts quivering as I say, 'Now?' and she nods or smiles or says, 'Yes!' Now, here in my mother's bedroom, the feeling was intensified, amplified many times. I was about to commit a mortal sin; incest with my grandmother was a mere shadow compared to this. This was the real thing.

'Now?' I asked.

'Yes please, Matthew,' she whispered and I looked into her eyes and she looked into mine and I saw love and lust and desire.

I knelt up between her outstretched thighs and lowered myself to her, gripping my shaft with one hand, guiding it to her pussy, rubbing myself up and down her slit to find her hole. Her labia parted and my cock sank into my mother's cunt and I felt my whole being throb with pleasure and excitement.

Mum gasped and her eyes opened wide as I penetrated her and I wondered smugly if she'd ever had a cock as thick as mine inside her. I went all the way in with that first thrust. She was soaking wet and she felt silky-smooth and hot and I could feel the muscles of her vagina gripping me.

I rested on my elbows and looked down on my mother's face and she looked up at me and I lowered my head to kiss her and she closed her eyes and moaned as our lips met and I felt her arms around me and her nails on the skin of my back, raking gently, stimulating me even more and I wondered if my grandmother had mentioned that I liked that.

As we kissed, I started fucking her, slowly at first, with long thrusts, feeling her grip me, feeling my cock slide in and out of her sopping cunt. In and out I thrust, getting faster, quicker, harder. She moaned louder and I bent my neck to take one of her nipples in my mouth and I suckled and bit down gently on the thimble-shaped bud, all stiff and rubbery, and she cried out and said, 'Harder, Matthew, bite it harder!' So I clamped my teeth harder and pulled at her nipple and she cried out again and I thrust into her almost savagely as the orgasm welled in my genitals.

'I'm coming!' I cried. 'I'm coming!'

'Yes!' she breathed. 'Come inside me. Come inside Mummy!'

My orgasm swelled and burst through me like a tsunami and I released her nipple and cried out in ecstasy as I pumped my spunk into my mother for the first time, gout after gout, until I was empty and spent.

I came out of my her and rolled on my back and she snuggled up to me, her head on my chest and I held her tightly in my arms and we lay together as the evening light dimmed and the perspiration cooled and dried on our bodies, the air heavily scented with my mother's secretions and the viscous spunk that dribbled thickly from her cunt.

'Come inside me. Come inside Mummy!' she'd said as I had started to come. And that had turbo-charged it. Magnified my climax. At the point of peak pleasure she had said the words most guaranteed to transport me to another dimension. A place of utter bliss and forbidden fruit.

A long time later, having said hardly a word, we got up. Mum put her kimono on and I found an old dressing gown and we went downstairs and mum opened a bottle of red wine and we sat at the kitchen table, looking at each other and sipping our drinks.

'Well,' my mother smiled at me. 'Aren't you going to say anything? We have just had sexual intercourse together.'

I grinned at her. 'Yes. Sorry, I think I'm still in shock.' I paused. 'It was like nothing I've ever experienced,' I said quietly. I had a sudden twinge of guilt because I half-remembered saying something similar to my grandmother the first time I'd had sex with her. But this was a quantum change.

'I never imagined it was going to be this good. I was...' I struggled for the right word. 'I was overwhelmed. It was so exciting, so utterly wonderful!'

'Thank you,' said my mother, blushing. 'And I should tell you that it was the same for me. But how do you feel about us? About the incest thing. I mean I know you and my mother have been sleeping together but it's not the same as sleeping with your mother.'

'It made it more exciting,' I said, simply. 'And when you called yourself "Mummy" I thought I was going to faint.'

Mum smiled again. 'I can be Mummy, or Ruth or anything you want me to be, Matthew. I've wanted this for a long time, you know.'

I went around the table and mum stood up and we kissed and it was really gentle and tender and she cried a bit and I think I did too.

'Have you eaten this evening?' she asked, suddenly, and I realised that I hadn't and that I was famished. So mum made me cheese on toast and we finished the wine and then we went upstairs again and this time we got under the duvet and we hugged and talked and I stroked my mother's body in wonderment that she was here in bed with me, naked in all her voluptuous glory. And we talked softly for ages about this and that and about my grandmother, and I talked about how we'd first made love and mum told me quietly about her relationship with her mother and how good and fulfilled it had made her feel over the years.

'Can I see your tattoo?' I asked, suddenly.

Mum switched on her bedside lamp and threw back the duvet and rolled over. And there it was. The thing that had almost certainly been the catalyst for starting a sexual relationship with her own mother and, by extension, with me. It was stylish, as gran had said. A dark-red rosebud, with a curling, thorny stem and green leaves.

'I like it,' I told her and I leaned over and kissed it.

'I got it done for a boy called Peter, who mum didn't approve of. She needn't have worried. He never made it past the first term at university.

'I know I've been a bit of a pain over the years,' she went on, as she switched out the bedside light. 'Snooty bitch, I once heard one of your friends describe me, and he was right and I'm sorry. I should have done better as a mother. And as a wife.'

'That's ok,' I told her, brushing a lock of hair from her eyes and kissing her cheek. 'You've nothing to apologise for.'

We lapsed into silence and after a little while I realised my mum was asleep so I gently disengaged myself and rolled over. I had a lot to think about. This evening had changed everything. I was now in a sexual relationship with my mother and I really couldn't think of a nicer place to be. If tonight was anything to go by, the sex going forward would be indescribable. With these pleasant thoughts swirling through my mind I drifted into sleep. My last conscious thought was what would the impact be on my grandmother?

I wanted to make love to my mother the next morning but we overslept badly. I'd have happily been late for work but mum had an appointment with the dentist and to miss it risked being removed from their patient list. So we had a hurried cup of tea and kissed and said our goodbyes.

'Go and see your grandmother soon, Matthew,' she whispered in my ear as we hugged tightly in the hallway.

'What about us?' I said, plaintively. 'When will I see you again?'

'Whenever you like, darling. Look, Matthew, now's not the time, but I need to say this. I'm thrilled that you and I are now in a relationship. I'm really, really happy. I've wanted it for so long. But I don't want that to mean that your grandmother gets in any way excluded.'

'I'm going round on Friday,' I told her and she kissed me and slipped her tongue into my mouth and I grabbed her buttocks and ground my crotch into hers but she laughed and pushed me away and I went out and got into my car and drove away and that was the first time I slept with my mum.

The following day, Wednesday, a parcel arrived for me and I opened it when I got in from work and examined the contents with interest. Then I made my dinner and ate it while I watched the early evening news. But examining the contents of the parcel had aroused me and I picked up my phone with the intention of calling my mum. As I searched for the speed dial a text message arrived from, as coincidence would have it, my mother.

Dear Matthew,

I know it's only Wednesday but yesterday was so thrilling and I know it's short notice but would you like to come round tonight? Or I could come to you...

Mum xxxxxxx

This was pretty much what I had been intending to say to my mother, so I texted back that I would be round in an hour.

It was as before, mum was waiting for me in the hallway, dressed in her black kimono. And as before she had used cosmetics extensively on her face: lips a dark red, eyes outlined in black mascara, the heavy lids a deep blue.