No Monkey Business: Week 02

"Wrong cheek," explained mom.

"Oh, right." I moved my head all the way to mom's other ass cheek and gave it the same treatment as its neighbor. "Better now?" I asked once I'd finished.

"Much," said mom.

"Anywhere else I need to kiss better?" I asked, trying to waggle my eyebrows suggestively. The gesture was doubly lost on mom since she did not have eyes in her ass and even if she did it was all but pitch black in that shed.

Mom chose not to respond with words but instead bent forward at the waist, using the shed's wall for support, and so presented me with her pussy. Even in the barely-existent light I could see it glistening with wetness. I tried to think of something witty to say about me not realizing that she had got a splinter there as well. Given that I'd had my cock inside her a few moments earlier I wasn't sure I wanted to go for 'Did you get a little prick there too?'

As it was I didn't get to say anything at all. Perhaps sensing my intent, mom reached behind her, grabbed my head, and pulled me face first into her pussy.

This was my first time going down on mom and I really did want to make a good impression. I knew I wasn't bad at oral. My ex-girlfriend Cassie had certainly enjoyed my ministrations. Sometimes I'd felt like she enjoyed it a little too much. A technique I'd hit on early was spelling out letters with my tongue over her clit. The stimulation on her most sensitive spot was of course welcomed, but the slight unpredictably of my tongue's motion that came with the various letters was also an important part. An added bonus for me was that when my tongue was getting sore and I'd been eating out Cassie for so long that boredom was starting to strike, I could amuse myself by spelling out little hidden messages.

Faced with mom's pussy I may have been a little too eager to impress. I dove tongue first at mom's clit and started licking out letters like a journalist on a deadline. Within a few seconds I'd spelled out a novella. Given a couple of minutes I probably could have licked out half of War and Peace.

Fortunately for both of us mom stepped in. She reached behind her again and slid her fingers into my hair. "Easy," she murmured. "It's not a race."

I realised she was right and stopped my frantic tongue action. I took a deep breath, breathing in the heady aroma of mom's arousal, and then started again.

I stuck to my initial plan and started flicking my tongue over mom's clit once more, but this time I took my time about it. Mom sighed and then let out ever more aroused sounding moans as I varied the pace and pressure, but never let up.

"Oh shit," mom muttered after a few minutes of attention from my tongue. I took this as a good sign and kept it up, running my hands slowly up and down mom's legs as my tongue danced over her clit. "Oooh shit," was mom's reply and then she emitted an adorable little squeak. I felt her legs tense up and then tremble as an orgasm took her.

I knew Cassie had always needed a minute after the first orgasm before I could go down on her again. She was simply too sensitive for a while. Assuming that mom would be the same, I lightened the touch of my tongue and slowly started to move my head away.

Mom was not Cassie.

"Don't you dare stop," she said in a rush, reaching behind herself to grab my head and push it back between her legs. "Do it like earlier," she went on. "Make like it's a race!"

Far be it for me to disobey my mom. I went to town on her clit, lapping out the alphabet forwards and backwards, right side up and upside down. My tongue was a blur, and mom was loving it. Her hips rocked around, no longer under her complete control, and she let out a constant stream of sexy little moans, groans, and colorful language.

I wrapped one arm around the front of mom's thighs, not so much to hold her still as to help me move in time with her. The other arm I needed for myself. Mom's sound effects were getting to me, and my cock was begging for attention. As mom vocalized her way to a second orgasm I wrapped my hand around my dick and started pumping. If I'd been paying more attention I might have been surprised at how close I was to my own orgasm, but at that moment my focus was more on mom.

"Steven!" she managed to squeak out. "I'm gonna..." she said before her breath caught in her throat. "You're gonna make me..." she tried again, without any more success. At that point she stopped trying to talk. Actually it sounded like she'd stopped trying to breathe for a moment, and the only sounds in that shed were the obscene wet noises of tongue on clit and fist on cock.

Almost unheard, mom whispered out, "Gonna." And then go she did. I felt it in her legs first, a tremble that built to a shake, which in turn built up to something that I'd need to be a seismologist to describe. She made a noise somewhere between a stifled scream and an unstifled grunt as she came in earnest. My tongue was still a blur upon her clit, and my hand was working just as fast on my dick. I still had my other arm wrapped around mom's legs, keeping her close as she shook through her orgasm.

Finally mom's legs started to settle, and I loosened my grip on them. At the same time I slowed down my lapping at mom's clit, giving it a few gentle kisses before moving my head back. No longer distracted by mom's mighty orgasm I realised my own was imminent. I let go of my cock, not sure if I'd already passed the point of no return. Just as I was about to stand up in order to impale mom on my cock and perform my son-ly duty, mom decided to come to the mountain instead. She took a small, shaky step back, bumping ass first into my face and knocking me onto my ass. Then her legs seemed to give up altogether. Like a tree slowly falling in the forest, mom fell back onto me. I had enough support to stay sitting upright, so mom's ass slid down my front tugging at my jumper the whole way, until she settled in my lap, my pulsating cock tight between her legs.

"Mom," I said through gritted teeth, "you need to get it inside."

I wasn't entirely sure if mom had heard me. But then she reached between her legs and located my cock with her fingertips. Using her other hand on the floor for support, she lifted her hips a few inches, pushing my cock head towards her pussy. Just as it was about to slide inside, mom collapsed back down onto my lap. My cock head slid between her pussy lips but didn't quite manage to enter her.

"Oh god," I muttered as my cock twitched. Mom must have realised how close I was as she repeated the maneuver, lifting up her hips and trying to shove my cock inside her.

"Unggh", I said, or words to that effect, as the same thing happened, and my cock didn't quite penetrate mom. I wasn't just close anymore. I could feel my orgasm starting. A few more seconds and I'd be cumming, whether I was inside mom or not.

If we'd been on a nice big bed I could have rolled mom over and taken matters into my own hands. But we weren't on a bed, we were sat on a nearly pitch-black shed floor. There was probably an open can of paint stripper to one side of us and a chainsaw with a hair trigger to the other side. Not that we owned a chainsaw, but you get the point.

I clenched my jaw and my fists, willing my orgasm to hold on just a few more seconds. Mom used those seconds wisely, lifting up for a third and final time and finally shoving my cock head inside her waiting pussy.

The cum started jetting out of me even as mom slid down my cock and back onto my lap. I wrapped my arms around her midriff, holding on tight and jerking my hips up in sporadic little bursts as the pleasure spread through me. Mom just leant back into me, making little pleased sounding murmurs as the flow of cum slowed and then stopped.

We sat there like that for a minute, each of us getting our breath back and enjoying the come down from our orgasms. I'd like to say we stayed like that for longer, me holding mom and her feeling good in my arms. But not every situation can be quite as romantic as that.

"Fuck it's cold," I said after the aforementioned sixty seconds. Distracted by mom's pussy and warmed up by our activities, I hadn't noticed this fact before. But sat on the shed floor with my jeans around my knees, I was noticing it now. I felt mom's legs starting to shake against mine and this time I was pretty sure she was shivering from the cold and not some very belated orgasm.

"Yep," said mom. I waited for something else. A pithy observation or witty comment. Instead mom shifted on my lap, then said, "Lock the shed."

With that she got her feet under her, slowly lifted herself off my cock, then walked apace out of the shed. I heard the back door to the house open then click shut through the open shed door.

"Huh," I said to myself. And then I realized I was sat on a freezing shed floor with my cock out, late on a Saturday night "huh"ing to myself. "Fuck this," I muttered, and leapt up. I managed to get out of the shed without incident and high tailed it back to the warmth of the house. After locking the shed, of course.

---

Come Sunday morning I made my way to church, just like always.

Nah, I'm just kidding. I'd spent the past week basically fucking my mom. Do you really think I go to church?

No, come Sunday morning I got up late and went downstairs for breakfast. Just like always.

Mom wasn't in the kitchen so I took my bowl of cereal through to the living room. Mom wasn't there either. After her disappearing act the previous morning I wasn't too worried that I couldn't immediately find her. Instead I finished my breakfast, washed up, then headed upstairs to see if mom was in her room.

Surprisingly, mom was not only still in her room, she was still in her bed. I couldn't remember the last time I'd gotten up before her.

"Are you okay, mom?" I asked from her doorway. Mom was laying on her front under the bedcovers. Only the back of her head was visible.

"Ugh," she responded. "Too much gardening yesterday. Everything hurts."

I nodded at the back of mom's head. She had been out there on her hands and knees for most of the day. With hindsight she had somewhat overdone it.

"That sucks, mom," I said. "Do you want anything? Some breakfast? Coffee? Massage?" I turned, ready to head downstairs and grab the coffee that mom would definitely ask for.

"Ooh yeah," said mom, audibly perking up. "A massage sounds decadent. Do that one."

"Oh," I said, taken aback. I hadn't been serious and had no real clue how to give a massage. Still, how difficult could it be?

"There's some massage oil in the top drawer," said mom. The bedcovers flapped slightly and I assumed she was pointing at her bedside chest of drawers.

I walked over to the drawers and pulled the top one open. I have to admit I was a little bit curious about what would be in there. Lingerie? Sex toys? My birth certificate revealing that I was in fact the bastard son of the King of Norway? More sex toys?

In the end the drawer was disappointing. There was no lingerie, no sex toys, no birth certificates. Just some pills, a half-read thriller novel, a small selection of bookmarks, and a couple of small plastic bottles. I grabbed one of the bottles and saw it was indeed massage oil. The bottle looked full, which wasn't that much of a surprise. I'm not sure who mom thought would be massaging her when she bought it, or who she would be massaging. Either way it looked like this would be the oil's maiden voyage.

I picked up the second bottle, which was noticeably less full, and realized that it was the lube that mom had been using occasionally in our escapades.

"Found it?" asked mom from the bed, breaking me out of my reverie.

"Yep!" I said, keeping both bottles in hand. I turned to the bed and folded the covers over to the side, revealing mom in all her pyjama-clad glory.

"Nice jim jams," I said, even though I had seen them before. In fact whenever I'd seen them recently mom's pyjama bottoms seemed to end up on the floor while I ended up balls deep inside mom. The thought of that had my cock stirring in my boxer shorts. I was only wearing them and a t-shirt since breakfast wasn't really a black tie event in our household.

"Oh, shush," said mom. "Do my back first, it's killing me."

I placed the two bottles on the bed next to mom then got up on the bed, straddling the backs of mom's thighs. A little bit of skin was peeking out from the gap between mom's pyjama bottoms and the top half, so I dribbled a little bit of oil there then gently placed my hands on it and started to push upwards. Mom's pyjama top bunched up as I pushed, but she was laying on her front, stopping the fabric from moving far. I'd exposed about half of mom's back when the fabric grew taut and I couldn't push my hands any higher.

"Uh, mom," I said. "Your top."

"What about it?" she asked innocently.

"It's in the way. You need to take it off."

"But I'm not wearing anything underneath it," she said, though I had in fact figured that out for myself.

"And?" I said, not sure when mom had gotten shy.

"It's not the kind of thing a son should see," she went on. "I wouldn't want you to feel uncomfortable."

I realised belatedly that mom was indulging in a little role play. Although the role she was playing was my mom, so I'm not sure if it really counts. "I'll be alright, mom," I said, sounding as put upon as I could. "I won't peek."

"Well okay then," she said. I scooted back and lifted myself onto my knees as mom raised herself up into what I could only describe as the doggy position. Entirely by accident on my part, but perhaps not on mom's part, she ended up with her ass bumping against my boxer shorts directly over my ever more interested cock.

"Whoops," said mom as she tried to undo the buttons on her pyjama top. She was in just about the worst position possible for doing it. She needed one hand on the bed to support her weight, leaving her only one hand to undo the buttons. Moreover she seemed to be having trouble keeping her balance. As she wrestled with the buttons on her top she kept wiggling around, grinding against my cock until it was fully erect inside my shorts.

"Here, let me help," I said, before putting my hands on mom's waist and holding her tightly.

"Thanks, sweetie," mom said. "That's much better." It wasn't clear whether she was talking about the extra stability she had now I was holding her, or the fact that as soon as I had hold of her hips I started rocking my hips, pushing the bulge in my boxer shorts against where her pussy was hiding within her pyjamas.

All too soon the last button gave up and mom flopped back down onto the bed leaving my cock tenting my boxers obscenely. She stuck her arms out behind her, the material of her pyjama top hanging loosely now it wasn't buttoned up. I pulled the top off and tossed it aside, leaving mom to fold her arms on the bed and rest her head on them.

Despite everything we'd done together, it wasn't lost on me that I'd yet to see mom naked. Or even topless. Since our first innocent session I'd become intimately familiar with her bottom half. Her shapely legs, round ass, and heavenly pussy were like old friends that I'd recognise anywhere. But while I'd groped her tits a few times and even slid my cock between them on one glorious, albeit dark, occasion, I hadn't actually seen them in the flesh. Nor had I seen the rest of her top half, for that matter.

Now, with her top off and her back facing me, I at least got a tease. Mom's breasts were squashed on the bed by her weight and their sides peeked out tanatalizingly. Below them her torso narrowed to a trim waist before flaring out again, widening as it vanished down into her pyjama bottoms. There, I knew, mom's body kept on widening, turning into that bottom that my dreams were made of.

I took all this in, but what I really wanted to do with mom's body was touch it. Luckily that's why I was there.

For a while I did actually give mom an honest to goodness massage. Since this was my first ever attempt I was hesitant at first. But mom guided me through it, telling me when to apply more pressure, where to touch, when to use more oil, the works. After twenty minutes she had stopped giving advice and was just letting out occasional moans of delight as I worked on her back. I knew these were innocent noises of appreciation at the massage, but having elicited similar noises from her in far from innocent scenarios, it was difficult not to remain rather aroused throughout the massage.

After about half an hour I sat back on my haunches over mom's legs, pleased with my work. "Anywhere else need massaging?" I said. For once I was being innocent, but having said it I did realise how it sounded. I just hoped mom would take it the wrong way too.

"Well," replied mom, sounding hesitant. "My legs are sore too. But..."

"I can do them as well," I said quickly. "I'll just need to take these off." I gave her pyjama bottoms a gentle tug.

"Oh I don't know, Steven," said mom, back in her character of mom-who-isn't-almost-fucking-her-son. "I'm, er, I'm not wearing much underneath. I wouldn't want you to get grossed out."

"I'll be fine, mom. I-"

"Well okay," said mom before I could even come up with a nonsensical reason. She wiggled her bum, which I took to mean 'Pull off my pants'. I shuffled backwards a bit and lifted myself up onto my knees so I wasn't pinning mom's legs anymore. In return she lifted her hips up from the bed, raising her ass up in the air before me. I tucked my fingers into the waistband of her pyjama bottoms and slowly started to pull them down.

Her ass appeared first. I mean, you probably could have predicted that. It still took my breath away, and I had to focus on what I was doing or I would have just knelt there with mom's pyjama bottoms around the bottom of her ass for the immediate future. As they peeled down her thighs her pyjamas revealed her pussy lips, glistening in the bedroom light. It occurred to me that when mom had said she wasn't wearing much underneath she hadn't been kidding. Unless she was wearing some kneepads she was bare beneath her pants.

Eager to find out if I was right, I made short work of tugging mom's pyjama bottoms off the rest of the way. I had to hop off the end of the bed in the process to pull the bottoms over mom's feet. Once they were off I tossed them aside. Then I took in the sight of mom before me: naked, wet, and wanting my hands on her. I stepped up to the plate.

Or rather I shuffled onto the bed and resumed my massage, starting with mom's feet.

My first few touches provoked squeals from mom, who was more than a little ticklish when it came to her feet. But she started giving me tips again and before long mom was back to making her delighted little coos. I took my time over it, massaging mom's left leg from the tips of her toes and working upwards. I knew where I was headed of course. Mom's pussy was visibly soaked with arousal. As I moved up from her foot to her ankle, then from her ankle to her knee, mom was clearly struggling to contain herself. She was fidgeting ever more and her little noises of pleasure were increasingly interspersed with noises that definitely weren't so innocent.

That's not to say I wasn't properly massaging her still. Mom had been working hard the previous day and needed her muscles soothing. But that may not have been my main concern anymore as I reached her upper thighs and dug my fingers into the flesh there, letting the fingertips slide around each side of her leg.

I repeated the maneuver, letting my fingers roam higher each time. The hair around mom's pussy was trimmed short, yet the index finger on my right hand still managed to skim it without touching her pussy as I went round her thigh one last time.

"Oh god," mom whispered, perhaps readying herself for my next touch which, if I kept up the pattern, would finally bring my fingers into contact with her pussy.