My Mother's Panties Ch. 03

And as I lay there, lost in my thoughts and memories, I couldn't help but feel a stirring of desire deep within me. For just one night, I had tasted the forbidden fruit of my mother's bed, and now I longed to taste it again.

As the clock struck late on that enchanting Friday evening, my heart fluttered with anticipation. I had invited Jimmy and a few close companions to revel in the euphony of music, accompanied by the clandestine indulgence of a few beers. The libations had bestowed upon me a delightful state of inebriation, a gentle haze that enveloped my senses. Little did I know, my dear mother had also succumbed to the intoxicating allure of the evening.

Her arrival was heralded by the faint jingle of keys, a symphony of anticipation that resonated within me. I observed her graceful yet slightly unsteady movements as she struggled to insert the key into the lock, a telltale sign of her indulgence in yet another cocktail soiree. These gatherings, known as The Aspic Events, were a regular occurrence, hosted by various acquaintances who prided themselves on their impeccable presentation. The ambiance was one of sophistication, an atmosphere that exuded elegance and refinement.

Ah, the meals served at these soirées were nothing short of extravagant, each dish meticulously encased in a shimmering aspic and served chilled. Amongst the culinary creations, the most dreaded was the tomato juice aspic adorned with vibrant green peas and the delicate essence of hard-boiled eggs. I had witnessed my mother laboriously prepare this dish for her own hosted parties, daring to taste it myself, only to be met with a wave of revulsion that threatened to overwhelm me. Yet, my mother insisted that aspic was the epitome of haute cuisine, an essential element of these social gatherings. It was, after all, the epitome of sophistication.

As my mother entered our humble abode, her countenance radiated joy, her steps light and carefree. With a graceful flourish, she draped her coat over the back of an elegant armchair, revealing a glimpse of her alluring figure. Her voice, tinged with mirth, filled the room as she regaled me with tales of her evening. She spoke of dancing, her words accompanied by a melodic laughter that echoed through the air. And in that moment, as her skirt twirled and swayed with her every movement, I couldn't help but be captivated by her infectious spirit, her intoxicating presence.

"What did you do?" she purred, her voice dripping with desire.

I couldn't help but feel a shiver run down my spine as I looked into her eyes. They were dark and mysterious, filled with a hunger that I couldn't ignore.

I told her about my night with the guys, the music that we listened to, and the way that we laughed until our sides hurt. But I left out the part about the beer, knowing that it would only dampen the mood.

As I spoke, I watched as her lips curled into a seductive smile. "Put on some music," she whispered, her voice low and sultry. "Dance with me."

I knew exactly what she wanted, and I was more than happy to oblige. I put on The Drifters, and as the smooth sounds of Save the Last Dance For Me filled the room, I took her hand and pulled her close.

As we swayed to the music, I couldn't help but notice how much I had grown. My mother had always been taller than me, but now, without her high heels, I towered over her.

But it didn't matter. As we moved together, lost in the music, I felt a connection that I had never felt before. Her slender waist fit perfectly in my hands, and the scent of Chanel No 5 mixed with the faint smell of cigarette smoke was intoxicating.

She was a graceful dancer, moving with a fluidity that left me breathless. And when the song ended, she looked up at me with a hunger that I couldn't ignore.

"Play it again," she whispered, her eyes locked on mine. And as the music started up once more, I knew that this was just the beginning of a night that I would never forget.

I couldn't help but admire her beauty, the way her hair fell in soft waves around her face, the way her lips curved into a smile. I wanted to touch her, to feel her skin against mine.

As she finished removing her makeup, I couldn't resist any longer. I stood up and walked over to her, my heart racing. I placed my hand on her shoulder and leaned in, my lips brushing against her ear.

"Mom," I whispered, "I can't stop thinking about you."

She turned to face me, her eyes darkening with desire. Without a word, she pulled me closer, her lips meeting mine in a passionate kiss. Our bodies pressed together, her curves fitting perfectly against mine.

I ran my hands over her back, feeling the smooth fabric of her dress. I wanted to explore every inch of her, to make her mine in every way possible.

As we broke apart, gasping for breath, she looked at me with a hunger in her eyes.

"Kenny," she said, "I want you. I need you."

And with those words, we fell onto the bed, our bodies entwined in a fiery embrace. The night was ours, and we were lost in a world of passion and desire.

As she stood before me, my heart raced with anticipation. Her movements were slow and deliberate, each one sending a shiver down my spine. With a coy smile, she unhooked her skirt and let it fall to the ground, revealing her long, toned legs. My eyes followed her every move as she unzipped her skirt and slipped it down, revealing her lacy black garter belt and stockings.

My breath caught in my throat as she removed her white satin slip, revealing her matching black panties. The lace on the sides was low cut, teasingly revealing just enough skin to make my heart race. The rest of the material was silken and shimmery, hugging her curves in all the right places.

As she continued to chat away, she unbuttoned her blouse and shrugged it off, revealing a matching lacy bra that exposed the top of her breasts. My erection grew stronger as I gazed upon her, taking in every inch of her beauty. Through the lace, I could see her areolae and nipples clearly, dark pink and prominent.

In that moment, I knew that I wanted her more than anything in the world. Her beauty was intoxicating, and I couldn't resist the urge to reach out and touch her. As our bodies intertwined, I knew that this was just the beginning of a night filled with passion and desire.

I found myself entranced, my gaze fixated on her every move. Clad in alluring stockings, a delicate garter, and tantalizingly skimpy lingerie, my mother exuded an irresistible allure. She was a vision of sensuality, a breathtakingly beautiful woman in the prime of her life. It was as if she had stepped right out of the pages of a seductive Playboy magazine. Her slender figure was adorned with curves that could make any heart race. Her long legs, toned thighs, the alluring swell of her exquisite derriere, a waist that tapered with grace, and breasts that harmoniously complemented her body, neither too large nor too small.

I could sense that she had noticed my intense admiration. The words ceased to flow from her lips as she paused, her gaze fixed upon me, a subtle smile playing on her lips. Her eyes, so tender and inviting, seemed to speak volumes.

"Thank you," she whispered softly, her voice laced with a hint of vulnerability. "Girls like to be appreciated."

"M-Mom," I stammered, unable to find the right words to express the overwhelming emotions coursing through me. How does one convey to their own mother that she is the epitome of seduction, the most captivating woman they have ever laid eyes upon?

Her smile persisted, radiating warmth and understanding. With a gentle motion, she reached out and took hold of my trembling hand, pulling me closer. "Just this once," she murmured, her voice barely audible.

Confusion clouded my mind as I questioned her cryptic statement. "Once? Once what?"

In a tender gesture, my mother guided my hand, guiding it upwards until it rested upon her bosom. "Just this once, my dear," she whispered, her voice filled with a mixture of desire and longing. "You can touch me. I know how you've yearned for this moment."

Her touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine as she pressed my palm to her breast. My body responded immediately, my erection straining inside my jeans. I couldn't believe what was happening, but I didn't want it to stop.

Mom's breast was more than a handful, warm and surprisingly heavy in my hand. I caressed her over her bra, marveling at how resilient yet soft it was. My mind was somewhat distracted, but I couldn't help rubbing the bump of her nipple.

Mom still held my wrist, letting me fondle her. It was my first touch of a breast, and it was so exciting. My cock pulsed slowly, and I was so aroused, so turned on. I couldn't believe that I was doing this with my own mother.

Then she guided my hand down across the gentle feminine swell of her stomach, her skin warm and silken. My heart raced as I watched my hand as if it was a separate part of me. I couldn't believe that I was touching my own mother like this.

"You can touch my panties," she whispered, and I did. My fingers trembled as I traced the outline of her panties, feeling the heat emanating from her body. I couldn't believe how turned on I was, how much I wanted her.

In that moment, nothing else mattered. All that existed was the two of us, lost in a world of passion and desire. And I knew that I would never forget this moment, no matter what happened in the future.

I let out a deep sigh, my mind consumed by desire as I dared to caress the delicate folds of my mother's womanhood. Against my trembling hand, I could feel the springiness of her pubic bush, a tantalizing contrast to the silkiness of her panties. The contours of her sacred space became evident to me, broad at the apex, gracefully swelling and sensually tapering, her vulva exquisitely full and rounded. The warmth emanating from her core, even through the fabric, ignited a fire within me, awakening a primal longing I had never known before. This was my first encounter with such intimate pleasure.

With utmost tenderness, I hesitantly ventured further, my heart pounding with a mixture of nervousness, desire, and inexperience. Yet, my mother, in the softest of voices, reassured me, "I won't break," and gently guided my hand to her most intimate area.

I explored, my fingertips discovering the fullness of her labia, marveling at how prominent she was between her inviting thighs. My exploration continued down the steep sides, tracing the elastic edges of her panties, until I reached the breathtaking sight of her mons, lush and undeniably arousing. Under the gentle pressure of my hand, my mother's mons revealed its softness, its sensuality, yielding to my touch with a delicate surrender. The sensation of her pubic hair against my skin sent waves of ecstasy coursing through my entire being, causing my erection to strain and pulse with an intensity I had never experienced before. A dampness emerged at the tip, evidence of the overwhelming pleasure that consumed me in that moment.

As she continued to stroke me, her other hand moved down to her own panties, slipping them off with a seductive ease. I watched, mesmerized, as she spread her legs and beckoned me closer.

"Come here, my love," she whispered, her voice dripping with desire. "Let me feel you inside me."

I couldn't resist her, couldn't deny the passion that was building between us. I stepped forward, my cock pulsing with need, and she guided me inside her, moaning softly as I filled her completely.

We moved together, our bodies entwined in a dance of lust and love. Her hands roamed over my back, pulling me closer, urging me on. I buried my face in her neck, breathing in her scent, lost in the moment.

And then, with a cry of pleasure, we both came, our bodies shaking with the force of our release. We collapsed onto the bed, spent and sated, our hearts beating as one.

As we lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, I knew that I had found my true love. And I vowed to never let her go.

As she released my wrist, her fingers still slowly stroking my throbbing erection, I couldn't help but let out a low moan. The head of my cock was swollen and inflamed, begging for release. And then, she did something unexpected.

She pulled the waist of her panties out and down, exposing her incredible pubic bush. It was light brown, silken, and full. I couldn't take my eyes off of it.

Holding her panties down, she edged closer to me, her fingers still stroking my aching cock. And then, the tip of my erection brushed against her silken pubes. I gasped, my cock swelling even more painfully.

She rubbed the tip up and down, precum leaking from me. I couldn't believe what was happening. I whispered her name, my pulse racing, my cock throbbing.

"Mom," I said, barely able to get the word out.

But she didn't stop. Instead, she stroked me even harder, her voice low and sultry.

"Cum in my panties, honey. Let me feel your cum."

I couldn't resist her any longer. It was too much for me. I was too turned on. Groaning loudly, my cock swelled, ached, and a pulse of pleasure hit me. Semen surged up my shaft to explode, a huge spurt splashing against her pubes, thick and white.

She whispered my name, stroking me gently as I came down from my orgasmic high.

"Cum, Kenny," she said, her voice filled with desire. And I knew that this was only the beginning of our erotic journey together.

I let out a breathless gasp as an intense surge of pleasure washed over me, leaving me weak in the knees. The ecstasy was so overwhelming that I couldn't help but release my essence, painting her delicate skin just above her pubic mound. The warm liquid trickled down, finding its way into the lushness of her intimate garden.

My climax erupted with an irresistible force, taking complete control of my senses. As my dear mother tenderly stroked my throbbing manhood, she skillfully guided me downwards, causing another powerful eruption to burst forth. A long, pulsating stream of desire collided with the fabric of her panties, forming a thick, intoxicating pool. I surrendered myself completely to the tempestuous storm of pleasure that consumed me.

With each stroke of her hand, my pulsating member released its essence, each spurt a testament to the intensity of my passion. The creamy evidence of my desire adorned her beautiful pubic hair, creating a mesmerizing contrast of brown and white. The sheer pleasure that coursed through my body was almost unbearable, causing my stomach to clench with an exquisite ache. Each desperate spurt intensified the sensation, until finally, my climax reached its peak and began to subside. The spurts weakened, their rhythm slowing, until the last remnants dribbled down my shaft and onto my mother's hand.

My legs trembled beneath me, my breath coming in ragged pants as I struggled to regain my composure. I felt a slight wobble in my stance, a physical manifestation of the intense pleasure that had just consumed me.

As the fabric of her panties gracefully ascended, concealing her delicate treasure, a tantalizing glimpse of her hidden desire lingered in the air. With a gentle touch, she pressed the front of her undergarments against her secret garden, a silent invitation that whispered of forbidden pleasures. "I believe it is time for slumber," she murmured, gracefully stepping back.

Her smile, brimming with affection, bestowed upon me a kiss upon my cheek, a tender caress that ignited a fire within my soul. In a hushed voice, she whispered, "May your dreams be sweet, my dear Kenny."

That cherished memory, even to this day, possessed an unwavering intensity. As I lay upon her bed, a wave of melancholy washed over me, engulfing my being in a sea of sorrow.

Oh, how I yearned to have spoken to her, to have poured forth the depths of my love, to express how her unwavering acceptance of my blossoming desires had transformed me into a better man. If only I could have conveyed to her the profound impact her attitude had upon my very essence, molding me into a more tender and passionate lover.

Never again did my mother's touch grace my skin, save for those fleeting moments. Yet, she would occasionally bestow upon me a precious gift - a pair of her panties, discreetly placed upon my bed. We never spoke of it, for our connection remained unchanged in every other aspect. Her subtle offerings served as a silent reassurance, a gentle reminder that I was not abnormal or deviant, but merely a young man traversing the path of adolescence.

I had whispered sweet declarations of love to her countless times, each word dripping with desire. Yet, those intimate moments remained veiled in secrecy, unspoken of, as if they were sacred fragments of my blossoming sensuality.

As I embarked on my journey through adolescence, I couldn't help but wonder about my mother's own romantic escapades. Perhaps, in the depths of my heart, I yearned for her to have found solace in the arms of a man after I departed for the hallowed halls of university. Though unconfirmed, I sensed the presence of a fleeting male companion in her life. The mere thought of it ignited a flicker of hope within me.

But my inquiries were met with silence, her lips sealed, refusing to divulge any details. Oh, how I longed for her to open up, to share the secrets of her heart with me. I yearned for her to confess that she had indeed found someone to cherish her, to adore her with the passion she so rightfully deserved.

-oOo-