September Storm

The late summer storm began far off, brooding over the Great Plains before moving east across the Big Muddy. In our little hamlet in the flatlands we sensed its approach.

The outside temperature that afternoon neared 100. I had been resting outside in a hammock in a pair of boxer briefs while Mom was taking her second shower of this sweltering day.

I was 22, home on an extended leave from the military. Dad was away on one of his business trips and my sister was with cousins miles away.

Mom, a voluptuous 42-year-old brunette with legs that went on forever, had come home early from work, knew of the storm's approach, and decided to shower looking forward to one her favorite times, an afternoon's nap in the rain.

My hammock was strung between two elms just outside the bathroom window and I could hear and smell the refreshing water as it poured over my mother who was softly humming in the stall.

As I nearly dozed, she called from the window that if I wanted the water nice and hot for a shower, now was the time.

Now, I had seen my mother naked several times and could not count the times I masturbated whilst imagining what delights might be found, my body penetrating hers. Notice, I said imagining.

Her announcement regarding the hot water stirred me from my reverie, and I realized a good shower was what I needed myself, followed by a nap during the rain.

Once refreshed by the shower, I slipped into a pair of regulation skivvies and headed back out to the hammock, hoping the cooler winds moving ahead of the coming storm would be a pleasant relief from the heat.

I passed mom's bedroom door, announcing my intentions, to which she replied, "Yes, I can feel it getting cooler already."

I glanced in. She was wearing a flimsy short gown that appeared quite transparent, her long legs gleaming in the afternoon sunlight through the window, on her side, no panties, and legs so askew that I clearly could see that darkened center between her legs of which I had so often dreamed. Clearly, she had not expected such an interruption.

I walked in. Yes, it was that simple. I just walked in and sat beside her on the bed and let the cool air from the west window wash over me.

"You're blocking my breeze," she said, smiling. "Either sit on the other side or lie down." Guess which course this poor boy took?

I got up, walked around the bed, and lay next to her on the bed, giving her the benefit of the cooling breeze.

Then, amazingly, despite my growing erection, I dozed.

We were both stirred into slight wakefulness by the roll of approaching thunder. Mom rolled toward me. Things had turned flaccid during the nap, but apparently she still was dozing and as she turned over, rested her right thigh directly over my softened cock. I froze in the moment, but was soothed by the smell of her recently shampooed hair. But the reaction between my legs was out of my control.

Mom snuggled against my right arm; I could feel the press of her right breast there through the soft gown, and as my normal-sized cock continued to harden, she stirred, cocked open one eye to ask with a wry smile: "And just what, is that?"

I simply stared at the ceiling, my cock at full hardness at the center of her thigh, and said, rather nervously, "Something, I think, Mom, that requires no explanation."

Outside, the thunder of the summer storm rolled closer, the breeze now much cooler, carrying the fragrance of the nearing rain.

Mom remained still, our light embrace frozen in time. Then she moved her leg higher to where it lay across my aching groin, letting my erection slip free from my boxers, hard under the back of her thigh, leaving a snail's track of precum.

A new smell then mixed with that of the approaching rain, that unmistakeable perfume of a woman's growing sexual arousal.

I was lost in time. Having just returned from two years in Southeast Asia and Japan, and that after four years in college, my log of sexual experiences was far from empty, but here I was with my mother, a serious storm approaching both outside and in the bed.

Out of my depth, I tried to speak: "Mom, I..." But her hand on my mouth stifled the attempt.

"Say nothing," she whispered. "Say nothing at all."

Holding herself above me on one elbow, she gently lowered her mouth to mine, her tongue playing along my lips, nibbling there and searching my mouth's center where our tongues began exploring each other's, gently at first then frenzied with desire. As we sought the very core of our mouths, Mom reached down, cupping my tightened testicles gently, her finger brushing over my other hole before her hand sought the fullness of my erection.

From the depth of my soul I gasped in desire -- never had I felt such arousal, such passion, by touch or kiss with anyone. Leaving my mouth, she whispered in my ear, "don't move, not an inch. Staying atop me, she turned around, sliding softly toward my groin, her lovely legs bestriding me.

She removed my boxers, telling me, "Remember, you're not to move."

I literally lay frozen with desire, her weeping cunt leaving a fragrant trail of dampness as she slid forward toward my knees, the smell of her need filling the room.

She grabbed my ankles, positioning the passionate core of her sex directly over my twitching cock, and with one hand reached between her legs to center my manhood directly under her dripping entrance. Then the head slid in. I remember my breath catching in my throat, the level of wanting and desire beyond anything in memory.

With a moan of welcome that filled the room, she lowered herself and we were there, at the blazing core of love, my cock twitching eagerly in the now boiling spring of her desire.

Outside the storm neared its peak, the wind playing havoc with the trees and the lightning, while not that near, flashing from the darkened sky.

As commanded, I kept my arms at my side, my very soul for the moment transfigured into the welcoming wetness of my mother's very being. Then she began, slowy at first, lifting her body just high enough for the head of my cock to nearly leave her cunt, only to lower herself again, each time at a slightly more rapid pace. These movements brought deep, almost moaning breaths from her as I struggled to remain still. "Yes, yes," she repeated in a frenzy of desire as she began grinding her sex into mine with each thrust.

I was losing it. Even though told to remain still, I could feel the roil of my need rising beyond control.

As the lightning crashed ever nearer and the thunder became a drumroll, I shouted, nearly screaming, "Oh, God, Mom! Mom! Mom!Oh, God!" I erupted, spurting streaming jets of my love into my mother's womb, my cum shooting with such incredible force, and such quantity that I never thought I would stop .

Mom ground our genitals hard together as she was filled. Feeling her depths splattered with my steaming gift, she stiffened, nearly screaming, "Oh, my God!" as her cunt erupted in an orgasm of its own, splattering my groin with what felt like a gallon of her vaginal juices all mixed with my seed.

The bed beneath me was soaking, the smell of our mutual desire overwhelming. I lay still; Mom still gripping my ankles, my erection far from subsiding, perspiration covering our bodies as the powerful September storm passed.

Lifting herself from off me, my cum- and juice-drenched cock fell free.

Mom left the bed, pulled off her flimsy gown, and with a smile for the ages, said, "Now I think it's time for another shower. Care to join me?"