No Monkey Business: Week 02

I spent the next ten minutes squeezing, caressing, and straight up groping mom's chest while also watching the film. Life surely could not get much better. Mom's labored breathing, astonishingly hard nipples, and occasional little thrusts back against me told she was having a pretty damn good time too. I thought we'd finish the film that way. With luck grandma would then decide to go for a late night drive to the next state and back and mom and I could have a marathon session there on the couch. Although given how aroused I was grandma would probably only need to drive next door and back to give us enough time to screw each other to our mutual satisfaction.

Mom was less content to maintain the status quo. About three fourths of the way into the film she once again took my hand in hers. I barely had time to wonder if she was stopping me because she was too sensitive when that question was answered with a resounding nope. She shoved my hand down her body, past her stomach and between her legs. I didn't have to wonder what she wanted as she pushed my hand against her and I felt the heat and the wetness radiating from her. I was momentarily taken aback by just how aroused she was from what had been a relatively innocent time on the couch. By our standards, I mean. The average guy groping his mom's tits for ten minutes would probably not describe the event as innocent. Anyway, even as I had that thought my cock throbbed in my pants and I felt a little trickle or precum seep out, and I realized that I was being quite the hypocrite.

All that aside, and no matter how turned on we were both were, it was hard to forget that grandma was only a few feet away. She'd made occasional comments and asked a few questions during the first half of the film, but seemed to have got the hang of it by now. Her presence was why I didn't start finger banging mom for all I was worth then and there, and instead slid my index finger along the length of her pussy lips, liberally soaking it in the process, until the tip of my finger reached her clitoris. I felt a small tremor run through her as my fingertip made contact, and then I ever-so-slowly started to run my fingertip back and forth in a side-to-side motion over her clit.

Mom, I have to say, was a trooper. Being so close, I could hear her breath hitch a few times and become more ragged overall. I also noticed her body start to move in little random twitches, especially when those twitches pressed her ass back against my cock. But anyone not literally pressed against her would have struggled to notice anything amiss.

I wasn't trying to get her off. 'Quiet' and 'orgasm' weren't two words that went together when describing my mom. The last time she'd needed to silently climax she'd nearly bitten through my shoulder. I didn't want to risk it this time. And so my finger moved back and forth in a lazy fashion, gently stroking her clit rather than frantically button mashing. When I felt her start to tense up or any of the other small signs of an impending orgasm that I'd picked up in the last week and a half, I slowed my finger right down until she seemed to calm again.

With hindsight I was basically just teasing mom. Bringing her to the edge of an orgasm and then pulling her back again, only to rinse and repeat. After ten minutes of this she was so wet that I was struggling to keep my finger moving on her without making obscene sloshing noises. They probably would have gone unnoticed - Evil Dead 2's climax is about as quiet as mom's - but I didn't want to risk it and so was moving my finger even more slowly.

Just how much longer mom could take all of this was a question that was doomed never to be answered. Out of the blue, and making mom and I both jump guiltily, grandma suddenly spoke up from her armchair.

"How much longer is there? Until the end," she said.

"About..." I said, trying to remember how the end of the film went. With my concentration on the chronology of the film I became somewhat distracted from mom, and my finger carried on strumming her clit of its own accord, moving faster as I pondered grandma's question. "...Ten minutes," I said after a moment. "Maybe fifteen." Even as I said the words mom slapped a hand over her mouth as it opened in ecstasy. I realised I'd brought her right to the edge of an orgasm and stilled my finger, hoping she wasn't about to blow our cover.

Grandma, of course, picked that exact moment to stand up and turn around. "I wanted to wait until the end but I need a brief bathroom break," she explained as she headed past us. On the way she looked down at mom who still had her hand over her open mouth and was doing a fair impression of a deer caught in the headlights on the brink of an orgasm. "Tired, dear?" asked my grandma, apparently mistaking mom's expression for a yawn.

Mom made a little squeaky noise which probably did sound like a mid-yawn sound effect if you didn't know the truth. "Uhs," she then managed to say, giving a small nod.

"Straight to bed after the film then," said grandma, forgetting that her bedtime setting privileges ended several decades earlier. Mom just nodded again and made her little affirmative squeak. That seemed to satisfy grandma who finally walked past and left the room. Mom and I both remained frozen in place until we heard grandma reach the top of the stairs.

"I'm sorry!" I started to say, but it was lost on mom who threw the blanket to one side and reached behind herself to grab me. She then rolled onto her stomach, pulling me on top of her.

"Get inside me!" she hissed. "Get inside me right now." She shoved her pyjama bottoms down to just above her knees as she said this, then reached back to try to help me free my cock.

Under other circumstances I might have been reluctant to do what mom asked. We would only be alone for a minute and getting caught by my grandma was simply not an option. But there comes a point in every man's horniness where he just doesn't give a fuck any more. I was at that point. I'd been edging mom for the past ten minutes, but she'd been edging me for the past two days. I decided to go for it. Given the state we were both in I figured we'd both be cumming after one or two thrusts, giving us enough time to cover ourselves up again afterwards. Quite how we'd deal with the smell or the cum were concerns for the future.

That was the plan, anyway. There's a saying. Something about more haste and less speed being... good? I don't remember the details of the saying, but I do remember the point of it. Sometimes going a little slower gets things done more quickly. This was destined to be one of those times. My cock was about as hard as it had ever been, and was making an utterly obscene tent in my pants. With one hand on the couch to support my weight I slipped the other one inside the waistband of my pants and underwear, planning to shove them both down at once. After that the plan was simple: stick my cock in mom, cum embarrassingly quickly, profit. It didn't quite go down like that. My cock was so eager to be released that it got caught on the waistband of my pants as I shoved them down. If I'd been a little bit softer then it might have flexed enough to let them twang free, but like I said above: so very hard.

This wouldn't have been a problem normally, I simply had to lift my pants back up a little bit to free my cock, then pull them down again being sure to pull the waistband clear of my cock on the second attempt. Unfortunately the point where I started to pull my pants back up again was the point where mom grabbed a hold of them in order to help. I guess from her perspective she just felt me pulling up my pants, the very opposite of what she needed to happen.

"No," she whined, trying to yank down my pants. "Give it to me, I need it," she went on. A particularly hard tug from her once again trapped my cock's head in the waistband of my pants, pulling painfully against it.

"Mom, wait," I grunted, wrestling with her for control of my pants. She changed tactics and let go of my pants, instead shoving one of her hands down the front of them and into my underwear, grabbing my cock roughly as she did so. We both let out moans, then each let out another as she stroked my painfully hard cock a couple of times, smearing the copious amounts of precum already around the head over the rest of it. With her hand holding my cock I could finally shove my pants and underwear down until the waistband rested just beneath my balls. I then lowered my hips and shoved them forward, just as wanton as mom for what was about to happen. Mom, in turn, arched her back, lifting her ass into the air to meet my thrust, and used her hand still on my cock to guide me to her entrance. There was no subtle foreplay or acclimatizing: as soon as I felt her pussy envelop the end of my dick I pushed ever onwards, inch after inch sliding into mom until the whole length of my cock was buried inside her and every part of it was squeezed with blissful agony by her pussy. This was it, I knew. One more thrust and we'd both be cumming.

"F- f- f-" murmured mom, shoving her face into the cushions beneath her. She then lifted her head back and cried out "Fuck!"

"Language!" called grandma from the stairs.

Based on past experience you might expect me to have gaped comically at that moment, before ineffectually disentangling myself from mom. It also seems reasonable that mom, seconds away from an orgasm as she was, would refuse to let me go and insist on some kind of world record hyper-quickie.

But, truth be told, I don't think there's any amount of horniness in the world that would have led to me or mom risking having grandma catch us like this. Our muddled attempts to get into this position were smoothly reversed in a fraction of the time, and when grandma walked through the doorway ten seconds later we were back to laying on the couch, watching the movie, and the blanket covering us. We'd even managed to yank our respective clothes back into roughly the right position. There was of course still a definitely grandma-unfriendly bulge in my pants and I suspected there were a couple of suspicious stains on the couch that weren't there eighty minutes earlier, but for the most part we were externally as we should be.

Internally we were both a hot mess. The sexual teasing for the past couple of days was bad, and the lack of release was even worse. But even worse still was finally thinking that we were going to get that release, coming that close to it, and then having it snatched away. Small shivers ran through both of us as we laid there in the dark.

"What did I miss?" asked grandma as she sat back down in her armchair. I racked my brains, trying to remember when grandma had left and what happened in the climax of the film. Mom came to the rescue though and smoothly rattled off the main developments of the past few minutes. "Hmm," said grandma once she was caught up. "And was that yelling about?"

"Oh," said mom. "I, er. Well..."

"Mom stubbed her toe," I said, smoothly, glad that I could come to the rescue too. Mom slowly turned her head to glance over her shoulder at me, giving me an incredulous look. She mouthed 'Stubbed my toe?' at me and rolled her eyes. Maybe, in retrospect, it wasn't such a clever excuse.

Grandma glanced around the armchair at us, perhaps wondering like the rest of us how mom could stub her toe while laid on a couch beneath a blanket. She clearly decided it wasn't worth pursuing as the grand finale was finally taking place in the opposite direction. We all sat and/or laid there in companionable silence as Ash found himself out of time and the end credits started to roll.

"Well that was certainly something," said grandma.

"Mhmm," mom and I said in unison, before both giving a little snort of laughter.

"And on that note, I believe it's time for bed," continued grandma. "Come on young lady," she said to mom.

"Actually I was going to stay up a little longer," said mom. But grandma was having none of it.

"Nonsense, you slept poorly last night and you were yawning fit to burst not ten minutes ago. Now come on."

"But moooom," said mom, making me smile at her petulant teenager impression. She relented though, knowing this wasn't the right hill to die on. Once she was up she looked down at me. "You too, mister. Bed time."

I really had been planning to stay up a little later. More to the point my erection was still pretty evident to anyone with a working eye or two, and the blanket was the only thing protecting my modesty. "But mooom," I whined.

"Nuh uh," she said, reaching down to grab my arm. Just before she yanked me to my feet she seemed to understand the panicked look in my eye, and relented. "Five minutes," she said, letting go of my arm. "And turn everything off, okay?"

"Yes mom," I said.

"Goodnight dear," said grandma to me, before taking mom's arm in her own and leaving the room. As they headed up the stairs I heard a brief snatch of conversation.

"You're quite the softy with him you know," said grandma.

"Oh I don't know," said mom. "I like to think I make some things hard for him."

---

After sleeping terribly on Sunday and Tuesday nights, you'd think I'd be due some solid rest that Wednesday night. And you'd think wrong.

The shock of almost being caught by my grandma had temporarily lessened the feelings of dismay and downright lust I felt from nearly getting to cum with mom again. That lasted about long enough for me to settle things downstairs, use the toilet, brush my teeth, and get into bed.

The rest of the night was torture.

I lay in bed for an hour, totally awake and totally aroused. It took all of my willpower to keep my hands away from my cock, which despite the lack of contact wavered between semi-hard and raging erection the whole time. My attempts to think about something other than sex with mom failed as soon as they started. I was a mess.

After an hour I got out of bed and started pacing my room. The soft carpet and lack of creaky floorboards hopefully meant that my perambulations were inaudible in mom's room next door. But I wasn't too worried about disturbing anyone, I was far too wrapped up in my arousal.

A few hundred laps of my small bedroom seemed like a good idea. That would exhaust me enough to pass out, surely? Surely not. After I'm not sure how long spent stalking my room I was still hard and still awake. Worse, I'd caught myself a few times stroking myself through my underwear, once even getting so close to an orgasm that I was sure I'd gone too far. But my cock throbbed and a sudden gush of precum soaked into my boxers, and that was all. I knew then that I couldn't take much more of this. I was still avoiding bringing myself to an orgasm because of this notion that, until I went to college on Saturday, my cum was for mom. She was desperate to get pregnant and I was not going to ruin her chances by wasting my sperm into a bit of tissue. Except, that had all gone out of the window the instant grandma had arrived. I was holding onto my cum for no reason except to torture myself. It felt strangely sacrilegeous, but it occurred to me that I could just jerk off right now. No one would blame me. I mean mom might blame me. And I'd probably blame myself. But I was starting to think that was okay.

The only problem was I didn't have any tissues in my room. Luckily the bathroom had plenty, and so I pulled open my door and padded down the hallway towards the bathroom. On the way I passed the door to mom's bedroom, and there I froze.

A sudden, almost palpable, sense of guilt struck me as I stood there. On the other side of the door was my mom. Whatever twists and turns our relationship had taken in the past couple of weeks, she was still the woman who had raised me single handedly for almost nineteen years. More than that, she was one of my best friends. Hanging out on the couch earlier, watching one of our favorite films, had reminded me of that. I felt a sudden surge of love for her, and knew then that if she could spend nearly half her life raising me then I could wait for a couple more days before jerking off. For her. Having made the decision, I reached out and brushed her bedroom door. A small, suicidal part of me wanted to open up her door, sneak in, and see if I could finish what we started on the couch there on her bed without waking grandma. The part of me that wasn't a screenwriter for a twenty minute porn film vetoed this idea, and so I slipped back into my own room and went to bed. I wouldn't say that I slept well for the rest of the night, but I did doze, and I was at peace.

---

I'm not sure if mom had some similar epiphany on Wednesday night, or whether she'd just become too tired to care anymore, but the following Thursday morning and much of the afternoon passed with us acting like a relatively normal family. Mom and I hugged when I first wandered into the kitchen in the morning, but then I hugged grandma in the same way, which should tell you what kind of hug it was. Otherwise we kept our hands to ourselves and, I'm a little ashamed to admit, were much better company for grandma as a result.

I'd not exactly been ignoring my grandma for the past couple of days, but our interactions did tend to be overshadowed in my mind by musings of when I'd next get a chance to be alone with mom. With my weary acceptance that nothing sexual was going to happen for my last two days at home, I could concentrate more on just enjoying my family's company. And so we played a board game in the morning, then after lunch grandma and I went for a short walk at a nearby park and chatted about college, until gathering storm clouds persuaded us back to the car and then home.

Mom was hoovering when we got home, so grandma and I went upstairs so I could show her some photos on my computer of the college I was about to attend. I had a brief moment of panic as we went into my room, sure that there'd be some flagrant evidence of my and mom's recent activities. I'm not sure what exactly. Maybe her panties laying on the floor, or her bottle of lube by my bed, or a giant poster across the wall showing a picture of me balls deep in mom as I unloaded yet another load of cum inside her. As luck would have it none of these were there. In fact my room looked quite tidy after my packing activities at the weekend.

I felt strangely proud when grandma liked the look of the college I was about to attend. It's not like I designed the buildings or hired the professors or anything, nor was I even a student there yet, but still I'd already been infected by that peculiar sense of loyalty towards an institution that was graciously accepting lots of money to educate me for another few years. Now's probably not the time to analyze that, though.

By the time we'd finished looking at pictures we could hear that mom had finished the hoovering, so we both headed back downstairs. After a brief debate on what to do mom persuaded us to have another round of the board game we'd played that morning. Just because she enjoyed it, of course, not because she'd lost and was ultra competitive when it came to games. Not at all. Suffice to say we set up the game on the kitchen table and started round two.

The game was approaching its grand climax when it was interrupted by grandma's phone ringing. She went over to her purse where she'd left it and fished it out, then frowned at the screen. "It's your father," she said to mom, then answered it as she walked out and into the living room.

I couldn't hear grandma's side of the conversation that well, only her tone of voice, which went from surprise to alarm and then to annoyance. A tangled knot seemed to be growing inside me as sudden fears bloomed about my grandpa. I'd asked about him earlier in the day and grandma had told me he was doing fine. But this didn't sound fine anymore. I could see mom looking increasingly concerned next to me, and took her hand under the table. She gave me a grateful look and squeezed my hand, then focused back on the doorway, as if it would have the answers.