The Mother/Son Book Club Pt. 03

"You could say that. Let's see...I can't say it came about all at once. For all my life, Mom had reminded me that I could grow up and do whatever I wanted. I wanted to be someone important, a manager at a business, and so I am. But she also told me that when I found the right person, at home, it was my place to be theirs, entirely. To give myself completely to them and their needs."

"That seems contrary."

"It is. It was confusing. At least in theory. She drove home that the right person for me would be someone who cared for me and my needs, who listened to me, who would pick me up if I fell and provide for me if I was hungry. She said I would know. Until I met your father I doubted that I would ever find the kind of man that she described, but I...I guess I yearned for him. You see, I had witnessed that kind of relationship first hand, not long before."

"You had?"

"Yes. You never knew my father. He left my mother when she was pregnant with my younger sister. I was in my early teens when it happened. She worked very hard to provide for us and to be independent, but I knew that the rejection had hit her hard. She was a good wife for him. I never saw him again, and he never paid a dime of child support. Things got tough. Finally, the time came when mom just couldn't pay the bills. At that point I was old enough to have a part time job but...it really made no difference. We were evicted from our apartment."

"Wait, is that why you moved in with your uncle?"

Gina smiled and leaned forward secretively.

"That's right. He more or less took us in, no questions asked. He had his own small business, a home that was big enough for us, and he raised me and my sister as if we were his own children. He had been telling mom that he could take care of all of us, and her, but she was proud. She somehow thought that she didn't deserve it. We were happy, and by the time I reached my senior year of high school I even had a college fund, thanks to him. I thought of it as a stable home, normal in every way, but it wasn't, really. Not at all."

"Why not?"

"I think you suspect already, but I'll tell you just how I found out. I was a cheerleader." She paused and sighed wistfully. "I know, hard to believe, right? I wasn't as athletic as some of the other girls but...a nice ass and big tits will take you places, sometimes."

"Mom!"

Gina just laughed.

"Oh, come on. That's not the worst thing you've heard me say tonight. Anyway, I took it seriously, practiced hard, and all that. I was due to be home late that night. We were going to compete in regionals, but the school lost power, and it was storming so we couldn't practice outside. I got a ride home early with a friend of mine. I didn't mean to be quiet, I was just thinking about how I needed more focus to keep up with the better girls on the cheer team. That's why I saw what I did, Vincent."

"What did you see, Mom? Was...was your uncle doing something...bad?" Vincent was hooked now. He had to know.

"I honestly thought he was, at first. He was behind my mom, and she was trying to prep something at the counter. Salad I think? But he was feeling her up, and not gently, either. I mean, it's nice to be groped like that by someone who you want, but...otherwise it's a real violation. I was going to say something, I was angry. How could he take advantage of his own sister like that? Even if he was helping us. But...then she moaned, and leaned back into him. She wasn't fighting him, or denying him. She was giving herself to him, passively at first, but then...much more actively. She took his hand and put it between her legs. She was so excited, Vincent. Ready for her man. You see, she didn't just tell me these things, she believed in them. She knew that if we moved in with him, her brother would, in fact, take care of her and us. She knew that she would give herself to him, in the end, because that's how she was made. Maybe he knew it too? I don't know. What I do know is that they loved each other a great deal, and I saw them prove it right there in the kitchen."

"You...watched them have sex?"

"They were fucking, Vincent. In my mind, there's a difference. He pushed her forward and she put her hands on the wall now, just holding herself up, offering herself to him. She didn't even try to move the cutting board, just arched her back. He had unbuttoned her dress, I hadn't noticed, and her breasts were out and he was just groping them very roughly. I remember thinking that it must of hurt but she moaned. She was in heat, Vincent. I'd never seen my mother like that. And if that wasn't enough, my uncle lifted her skirt, pulled her panties down and..."

"Oh my god."

"He pulled his cock out so fast. They knew I was due home soon so they didn't have a lot of time. He had...well, maybe it's sick of me to think so, but his cock was pretty great. And he just thrust inside of her. No waiting, she cried out, but it wasn't because it hurt. I watched him fuck her. And I mean he gave her a pounding. That slap of flesh on flesh. You don't forget it. It's nothing like porn. It's real, and solid and she was pushing back, too, giving herself to him. She was a woman driven to be bred."

"Mom...this is...I don't..."

"Easy, Vincent. It's just us talking, remember? I know this is getting you hard, same as it gets me hot to think about all these years later. You think I'm going to judge you? Or tell anyone? No way. I'm your mother, Vincent. I'm safe. I'll never tell."

"I...thanks, mom. I'm enjoying the story," he replied. His mother was correct, after all. He was rock hard, and pretty sure that there would be a precum stain on his shorts later.

"Anyway, he kept getting louder and louder and she did, too. I don't know, maybe they hadn't had time to themselves in a while. Eventually, he buried himself inside of her and groaned. My mother turned her body slightly, reaching back to push him even deeper inside of her. When she did, she saw me at the doorway, frozen like a deer in the headlights. He pulled out, I could clearly see cum running out and down her thigh. That's the last thing I saw before I took off up to my room and closed the door. I felt...well I felt all kinds of things. Mostly shame and arousal."

"Oh god, so...what happened?"

"Mom came upstairs in a little bit. She'd pulled herself together but there was still a sheen of sweat on her brow. We both knew what she'd done but she still met my eyes, almost defiantly. I was angry. I said some awful things to her. Mostly because I was scared of what was happening, and my world had changed pretty significantly. She listened to me without really being affected, and then hugged me. Then she started explaining." 

Vincent was too fixated on his mother's words to respond. He'd never had any idea that his grandmother and great-uncle had been like this. Gina sipped her wine and went on.

"There's not much to it that you haven't heard already. Mom explained to me that everything was as I knew it. She loved me and so did my uncle. There was just more to it. She'd never been forced. She'd given herself to him completely. Not just her body, but her heart, too, but she was still independent. She basically ran the home completely, even the finances at that point, which was more common in the past. She apologized for me finding out that way, and she understood if I was upset, but that she wouldn't change. I'll never forget her words. 'It's how the women in our family are built, Gina. You'll understand soon.' And then...everything was normal again. We ate dinner together. We laughed. I thought about what she said. I still think about it a lot."

"But...I mean you accepted it. That doesn't mean you believe it or agree with it, right, Mom?" A part of Vincent, the part that was molded by society, was horrified. It was the same part that was ashamed of the desires he had for his mother. Another, deeper, more primal part was eager to hear more.

"I do believe it and agree with it. Mom was never happier than when she was with her own brother, and they were great together. She mourned him tremendously when he died. I gave myself to your father because I believed in it, and I was right to do it. He encouraged me to do what I wanted. And yes, we disagreed, even fought. But when it came down to the most basic of relations, he owned me. I never, ever, told him no."

"Wow...It's just...you know, hard to believe. Not that I think you're lying, it's just...you're really ambitious and independent."

Gina smiled at his son's recognition, and shivered just a little. Being praised by your man was special, after all. 

"You want me to prove it?" Gina said, with a challenging upturn of her lips. She knew how to brat, if that was the motivation her man needed.

"What...what do you mean, mom?"

"I mean...do you want me to show you what I really think of you? When I come home after a long day and find out that my son, my wonderful, handsome, son, has taken care of his little sisters, made sure dinner was ready, and handled his own responsibilities?"

"Y-yeah, mom."

"I think about what a fine man my son has become. I think about how he takes care of everyone around him. I think about how, no matter what I know to be right and wrong, he's definitely the man of the house. He's definitely my man. And I think about how I'm not fulfilling my responsibilities towards him."

"You do take care of us, Mom! You pay for...for everything. And you make sure that the girls are fed and you show all of us love and..."

"Do I need to explain myself again, Vincent? Because I will. I'll tell you all kinds of stories if it helps you understand and move past any guilt or hesitation. You stepped up. You take care of your sisters, and you do as much as any husband does. You have needs. I'm not taking care of those needs like I should. It doesn't matter that I'm your mother. I'm yours, if you want me. I want to be yours."

Vincent's mouth went dry.

"What...what happens now?"

"It's not my place to tell my man how to best make use of me."

"So...whatever I do...it won't be wrong...because you're my property? And...and because you'll want it, too?"

Gina nodded, downed the rest of her wine, then stood. She smoothed her dress. Demure though it was, it did not hide her body from Vincent's gaze. Without another word, she turned and walked towards the sink. She neither rushed, nor moved slowly, but with the measured purpose of a woman who knew her way. Slowly, and with a smooth sensuality, she started to wash the dishes.

Vincent just sat and watched her for a bit. Did she really mean for him to...to do whatever he wanted with her? He wasn't stupid. He knew that his mother had told that very explicit story not just to turn him on, but to make him think of the possibilities, and now he could not stop himself from doing just that. He was nervous, afraid even. He knew what she expected, but he also knew that she wouldn't guide him much if at all. He was to do what he wanted with her. With his mother. 

No. This was wrong. Vincent stood quickly and began to leave the kitchen, but something stopped him. He turned and watched his mother again. He saw the way her body swayed under her dress. Hadn't he always wondered what she looked like, nude? Hadn't he wanted to feel how soft and giving she would be? Hadn't he wanted her at his mercy? This was almost more than he had ever fantasized about, and the best part was his mother had already consented happily. And like she had said, she would never ever tell.

Vincent stepped softly behind her. He was not trying to be stealthy as much as not be aggressive. He did not wish to alarm her. He loved her, and wanted to make her...happy. A little playful smile appeared on his face. 

There was no point in his resistance. He'd seen long ago how his friends and other men had looked at his mother. She was irresistible. She was curvy and delicious, yes, but she was also funny, loving, and caring. Everyone saw it. She turned heads all the time. So, Vincent supposed he might as well make the best of it. For both of them.

Vincent set his hands on his mother's hips. Gina froze, for a moment. He could feel the shiver run through her, and he smiled, although she could not see it. After a moment she continued with her task, soaping the dishes, rinsing them and setting them aside. He moved his hands to her back, and began, slowly, to massage her. She'd asked him to do this in the past, especially in recent months. She was full-figured, and had to sit at her desk for long hours, and at times, she ached badly. Vincent had always been happy to help her, but tonight, he was slower, firmer.

"Mmm...that feels wonderful, Vincent," Gina said, practically purring. 

"Good," Vincent said, moving to her shoulders, then down her back again, until his hands rested at her sides. The whole process took a few minutes, but already he could tell that his mother was more relaxed. More receptive. Slowly, almost painfully so, he unbuttoned the front of his mother's dress. He slid his hands within, and she paused, unable to concentrate as he unhooked her bra. Where had he gotten so skilled at doing that so quickly? It didn't matter, because soon, his breasts hung loosely and free, and her son's hands we're all over them. 

Vincent squeezed them a bit too hard at first, but his mother didn't complain. In fact, she moaned and leaned back, grinding her beautiful, large ass against his cock. He groaned. That was what he wanted. He wanted her to be ready and willing. 

With confidence borne of his own arousal, Vincent lifted her skirt up, then before he could chicken out, hooked his thumbs in Gina's panties, and knelt, drawing them down to the floor. Gina gasped at the cool air on her exposed ass and thighs, but did not stop cleaning. Instead, she simply stepped out of her panties, as it was clear Vincent had wanted her to do. Then she went back to her dishes. She hoped, almost desperately, that her son would fuck her aggressively as she had seen her uncle fuck her mother all those years ago, but that was perhaps a lot to ask of a young man who was probably, hopefully, still a virgin. It didn't matter, in any case. She was happy to provide her son with anything he needed. A good woman existed for her man's pleasure. 

Gina had anticipated that her son would stand and take her just like that. It was unlikely that he would last very long, as a young man, but that didn't matter to her. It was flattering, in a way. She thought about what he might do so much that she forgot to pay attention to what he was doing.

Vincent wanted his mother, but he was still a virgin, and did not anticipate the effect of seeing her swollen, wet pussy. She kept washing, even as he caught her rich, delicate scent. A slight line of liquid rolled down the inside of her thigh. Without thinking, Vincent licked it up, letting his tongue run up his mother's dark olive skin all the way up to her...

"Fuck!" Gina was shocked from her reverie, and she dropped the dish she had been attempting to wash into the soapy liquid. Vincent stopped for a moment, said, "Put your hands on the counter, Mom," and then began to lap at her pussy in earnest. She moaned as his hands gripped her thighs tightly. She rolled her hips slightly back, giving him better access, and he dove his tongue in eagerly.

Both mother and son were lost to desire, and forgot the danger of their position, or that the girls could have walked in at any moment, despite the hour. Gina threw her head back and closed her eyes, enjoying the tongue lashing that she hadn't received since months before her husband had died. He loved to eat pussy too. Like father like son, she supposed.

Gina was already riding the ragged edge of a big orgasm, not quite there, but almost. Vincent reached around her thick thigh, with one of his hands. Bleys had told him once where to touch women, if you wanted to get them off, and Vincent was grateful that he listened now, as he ran his strong hand through his mother's thick bush (apparently she did not shave, something that he found intensely arousing for reasons that he could not understand), finding a swollen, wet nub that could only be the clitoris. 

"Ohhhhh godd...that's...oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck..." Gina said, as she involuntarily arched her back further, as if to get away from his hand. Vincent did not complain. He had maybe been too rough? He touched her again, this time lightly, as he tried to continue lapping at her with his tongue. She moaned and shifted and squirmed. In mock irritation, he nipped at her ass, and she squeaked cutely. 

By this point Gina was leaning over the counter, soapy hands getting water everywhere, the front of her dress getting soaked through. She had arched her back enough so that she was a foot or so out from the counter, now. Vincent stopped briefly, turned around so he leaned against the counter, and then started licking his mother from the front, tonguing her clit directly. Even as she shivered and moaned from this new contact, he inserted a single finger inside of her. It was too much.

Gina came, trying to stay quiet and mostly succeeding, but it was huge. She masturbated regularly, but hadn't had much success since her husband's death, and this was like a floodgate had been opened inside of her. She knew that she was coating her son's face in her own liquids, so maybe it had. She shook all over, quivered and came. Vincent saw her thighs shaking, stopped and managed to slide out from under her, before standing and wrapping his arms around her midsection instinctively. He did so just in time. Gina's orgasm finished, but her legs shook and gave way. 

Vincent held her fairly easily. He'd never say so but his mother was not light. That was, of course, part of her appeal, and only enhanced her sexyness. It did mean, however, that he had to be careful not to drop her as she went nearly limp in his arms. He managed to lift her, bridal style, and carry her to the couch. Her panties lay on the floor of the kitchen, forgotten.

Vincent sat down and held his mother as she curled up, resting her head on his chest as he stroked her back. She was shorter than him, and pleasantly heavy in his lap. He could get used to this. For a long time neither said anything, and from his mother's relaxed breathing he assumed she had fallen asleep, but she spoke up.

"I haven't been cum like that since I was eighteen," Gina said, giggling softly.

"I'm glad."

"Now...I think it's time you actually made use of me, for your own pleasure."

"I enjoyed doing that mom. A lot."

Gina laughed again, this time even softer.

"I know, sweet boy, but you have needs too. And they're not small. I clean your sheets, remember?"

Vincent blushed.

"Ah, geez, Mom."

"Don't be embarrassed. It's natural. Anyway, how do you want me?"

"What do you mean?"

"For your first time. Do you want me on all fours? Or maybe you want me to ride the cum out of you? Or do you want to do face to face? It's all good for me, and even if it wasn't, I'd still do it, for you."

Vincent froze as all of the possibilities ran through his head at once. This was really happening. He had a hot older woman, all to himself, and she'd do anything he wanted. He looked down, and found his mothers large brown eyes looking up at him.

"I want you on your back, mom. I want to see your beautiful face when I um...you know."

Gina giggled.

"Oh, you are a sweet talker, aren't you? I'm starting to think I'm not your first..."

"Y-you are, mom. I um...I've never..."

"Hey, relax," Gina said, as she nonchalantly slipped her dress off, "I don't think that being a virgin is a bad thing, any more than not being one is. As a matter of fact, I'm very happy about being the first woman to have you, or the first woman you have, depending on how you look at it..."