Silent Night Pt. 01

Dear Reader, This is my first attempt at a story. I'm not sure where this goes so all constructive advice welcome. All characters are fictional and adults above the legal age of consent.

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The Beginning

At 18, I was in the prime of my fledgling adulthood; which you may consider to be a polite euphemism for continual self-sexual-pleasure. And you would be right. Masturbation was my favourite hobby. As I lay in my 3/4 double bed, in my small box room, my hand rhythmically moved up and down my cock, as I cupped my balls with my left, and listened to the sexual noises that emanated through the paper-thin wall from my Mum's room.

She had divorced my useless father 5 years ago, and the two of us had been living in a tiny maisonette-house quite happily until last year when Benny unofficially moved in. Now he occupied my Mum's bed, as well as dominating her life. Not that I blame her for wanting male company; she'd had me at 16 and now, still not quite 37, I think she was in the prime of her adult life. My Mum, Jose, was 5' 2", with dark brown, flowing hair around a cute, girl-next-door, round face which glowed with a golden, clear complexion. I guess, she was beautiful.

Benny thought so, and based on the sounds that I listen to almost nightly, he loved to sexually abuse that pretty face. The sounds of saliva sloshing around and her constant gagging sounds painted the picture in my imagination of him sitting on her chest as he plunged his cock into her red-painted mouth. Or, was it just my furtiveness?

I would lay in bed at night, listening to her choking on Benny's cock and wondering if that is what she really liked, or did she tolerate it for the love of a man. "Suck it, you cock hungry bitch!", came the gruff tone I knew was Benny's. Was my Mother a whore or an abused woman in distress? My cock thought "whore". It grew and throbbed, and ached for release with each stifled reflex and each sensual slurp and gasp for breath. Oh God! Stop thinking about it!

Instead, I tried to fill my head with thoughts of last night when, after a 30-minute swallowing session, to which I had orgasmed twice, I heard her crying as she ran out of her room, past my closed bedroom door, down the hall to the bathroom. I waited breathlessly, listening intently for any sign. Then I heard the slightest of whimpers which confirmed my Mum was not the whore I thought she was. She was crying. I crept down the hall and, placing my ear to the wooden bathroom door, listened to her gently sob. As her tears diminished, I heard the flush and raced back to my room. Jumping back into bed, and rolling over just in time to hear my door knob turn and the hinge squeak open. The alternate side of my bed dipped as my Mum's weight compressed the divan springs. "Okay to sleep here tonight, love?", my Mum asked rhetorically. I thought it wise to not reply. Best let her think I had slept through her embarrassment. As I imitated sleep, it naturally washed over me and I fell into a deep slumber.

Now, this following night, history was repeating itself once again. "You're just a throat whore, now, stop complaining and suck my cock", complained Benny as he must have pushed harder and further than normal. My Mum's coughing and spluttering told me she was doing her best to accommodate his cock down her throat.

My cock complained again and yearned for my hand to wrap around the head. I relented and resumed the indulgence. My hand squeezing and massaging just behind my engorged helmet while my real head was filled with images of looking down at my Mum's red lips encircling my cock as I pushed it forward and down into her throat, making her gag on my girth. What was I saying!!!

Do all sexually charged teens think such things about their Mothers, or am I just an evil, depraved Motherfucker-wannabe?

My orgasm built and I welcomed the release which the pleasure promised when suddenly I noticed the noises from next room had abated. I stopped. Transfixed. Straining to listen. A shuffle of carpet... a click of handle... a squeak of hinge... the sensation of mattress compression and I knew, in the darkness, my Mum was right there, sat on the edge of my bed. I lay ridged on my back, my hand still encircling my rock-hard cock with my Mum swinging her legs into bed to lay next to me. I tried to regulate my breathing, feigning sleep once again. Tonight, she didn't say anything, assuming I was asleep again. What should I do, what would I say? What could I possibly say: "Hi Mum, are you okay? Did he fuck your throat again?" - "I was just having a wank listening to you struggling to breathe and swallow Benny's cum". Did she swallow? Oh my, I hadn't thought about that. Maybe she just spat it out or perhaps she allowed it to run out of the corners of her mouth. Perhaps she loved the salty sweetness trickling down her throat and into.... What the fuck, man! Stop thinking about that! What am I going to do!?

Here I was, a ravenousness hard-on pushing up the covers, my hand yearning to slide down my cock again and my Mum lying beside me on her back, literally 4 inches away. I did, what everyone else would do, absolutely nothing. I continued to freeze and imitated sleep. I simply listened to her breathing. It slowed. It deepened. It transformed into sleep.

I was not asleep. My cock was not asleep. It throbbed and yearned to be touched. All this while, I had remained unmoving, exactly as I had been when she opened my door.

Now as she slept beside me, I started to ease the demands of my cock. It remained lubricated with my pre-cum so my hand easily slid down and back up. Could I do this? Maybe if I went ultra-slow. I persevered. Now my eyes had become accustomed to the dark, I could make out the rigidly still form of my Mum. Emboldened, once again my fingers confidently squeezed behind the head of my engorged cock then slightly released as it slipped down to the base. A rustle of fabric. Initially my thought was that my Mum had become unsettled, but with relief I realised it was my own hand rubbing on the duvet cover. With extreme caution, I moved my left hand from around my balls to gently push a ridge into the duvet, making a slight tent above my cock. "Freedom! Get on with it! Stroke me!" screamed my cock. I obliged.

Now, normally when I jerk-off, I just go hell for leather and just "beat one out". Getting my release and satisfaction from the burning hot vibrations that erupt in the head of my cock, usually as I stare at porn on my phone. And that's great! But now, with my Mum literally within arms-reach, I had to change tactics.

As silently as I could, I relaxed and simply cocked my wrist to generate a slow slide up and down my shaft. I needed this. I could not stop, even if she woke. Really? Even, if she awoke? No, it would be better if she didn't. How could I ever explain this! "Sorry, Mum, but I would love to stick my cock down your throat like he does". Best not!

I continued my slow edging to satisfaction. It was thrilling. I had never conceived that such a slow wank could possibly be so pleasurable. Or maybe it was just the thought of who lay beside me, oblivious to my misdemeanour. And so, I continued to stroke, silently but irreversibly approaching release. My ears pricked for the slightest of sound from my right, my body also attuned to the slenderest of movements. Comforted in the silence, I allowed my imagination to think about the woman laying beside me and her desire for a cock pushing past her lips, into her warm mouth and down deep within her clenching throat. Not just a cock, but my cock; engorged with blood and throbbing in desire.

And slowly I edged forward, to a world of heavenly bliss of which I had never before dreamt. A tingle began in my ball sack, a slow-motion explosion building within the shaft of my cock, a glow of heat emanating from my loins. And then it happened, as I relaxed totally in the bliss, I erupted in an orgasm so intense that my breathing stalled as my thighs clenched and a torrent of sperm erupted from the ember hot tip of my cock to cover my abdomen and puddle within my navel.

Never before had I experienced anything like it.

As I lay wallowing in the ecstasy of that release, I suddenly felt movement beside me, as my Mum rolled over onto her side and gently rested her arm across my torso. Her hand bathing in the fresh cum of her son. Frozen in trepidation for what her reaction would be, I held my breath. Mum simply stretched like a sleeping cat, her fist clenched, which scooped-up my warm cum within her hand. And slowly she reversed her position and returned to rest on her back. Safe in my belief of her slumber, I gradually and silently released my breath and cautiously drew another.

My Mum then did something I had never seen her do before: she lifted her hand to her face then began to suck upon her thumb, like a sleeping baby. I watched from the corner of my eye transfixed as she suckled on her thumb with my sperm running down from her hand, along her thumb and straight between her lips and into her grateful mouth. She murmured like a baby content in her nursling security. My Mother is eating my cum! Oh My God! Is she really asleep?