The Second Time Around

Not all stories are neat, nor do they all start at the beginning. Mine starts somewhere in the middle when my mother said, "I've missed you...I've missed the way we used to be." Yes, every conclusion you might reach about the phrase 'the way we used to be' will probably be true, and then some. I had an affair with my mother Daniela. I slept with Daniela. I fucked Daniela. All true.

But that was in the past when I was just starting college and mom was a thirty eight year old woman about to be alone as she had never been. It was bad enough when her husband died and left her with a small child to care for. It was bad enough when there was almost never enough of anything. Anyone who thinks it's easy to be a single mother, is wrong.

I look back at all that now and it's as if I'm looking through a gauze curtain. I don't want to remember how many times we moved, how many schools I went to, and how much we traveled. I hope never to see the inside of a cheap motel room again, even if it was the place where I first had my mother.

I don't know much, but I'm sure that there's probably no stronger love than a mother's love. But our first time together had more to do with sex than it did with love. I know it was that way for me, especially since I was virgin. I mean I'd been around the bases with some girls, but I never slid into home. And that's what it was for me, in the best possible sense.

My mother asked me to travel with her sometimes because she said that being alone so much was taking a toll on her. I didn't want to go, but I said okay. We were in the Green mountains and the scenery was gorgeous, even if the room wasn't. Mom had come back from calling on customers and we sat on one of the beds watching "Leaving Las Vegas," when she moved close and put her head on my chest. It wasn't something she often did.

We were watching TV that way for about five minutes when she put her head in my lap and kissed over my dick. I could have said something; I could done something in the interim before she did it again. What I did was almost hyperventilate, get hard, and feel my head spin. After the third time, when I was sure that it wasn't an accident or my imagination, I stroked her hair. She sighed. She turned and came up to kiss my lips.

It's an exaggeration to say her lips were burning, but it felt that way to me. Or maybe it was mine. We didn't talk as we made out. I took my lead from her because I was afraid of breaking the spell. I didn't want her to stop. The only initiative I took at first was to put my hand on her breast. It was an almost automatic response to making out. And she had nice, big, breasts. That I had always noticed.

She stripped me to the waist first, and ran her hands over my chest and back as we kissed. She took off her blouse and bra, and I ran my hands over those lovely fleshy globes over and over again, crossing the stiffened nipples as many times as I could. She cupped her tit in offering and I was quick to take it into my mouth. I sucked my mom's nipple and the first sexual moan I'd ever heard from her crossed her lips. I sucked and suckled as if there was still milk to be had.

She touched herself and fought to remove her skirt she took off her panties and I was stunned into inaction. I looked at her pussy in wonder. I was mesmerized by the folds and the color and the fragrance until I felt her urging my head down. I kissed her belly and moved lower, uncertainly. I was in uncharted waters until mom said, "There, yes...no...yes...higher...YES THERE...yes there, yes..." After a while I understood, and my own intuitive urges took over. My mother's pussy dripped honey and I love it. I had never done it before, but I loved it.

My cock was like a rock and my mother was saying, "Yes Jessie, yes, God yes...OH,OH,OH...OHHHhhhhh..." Even in my inexperience, I knew that my mother was coming, and I reveled in the sound of my name because I'd never it before in the throes of sexual passion. She said, "Oh Jessie, Oh Jessie, oh Jessie...ohhh..."

When she opened her eyes, she also opened her arms. She beckoned me and said, "Come baby." I was overwhelmed. She was opening her legs, offering her pussy to me. She was saying I could be inside the place a woman only gives to her lover, the place society tells her never to give to her son. And my mother was about to give it to me.

She was gently holding her knees apart and I could see the moisture on the fine hairs over her pussy. Her stockings were a subtle color, yet when the sheer beige ended in a brownish band around her thighs, it was in stark contrast to her creamy skin. She was smiling, she was not ashamed, not conflicted. My mother wanted her son inside her pussy.

I took my pants off quickly and my hand was practically shaking as I directed the head of my cock to her soft folds. I pressed into my mother's pussy. I expected it to be warm, but it was hot. I expected it to be wet, but it was soaked. I expected it to be soft, but it was a velvet glove massaging the length of my hard shaft as I pushed in as deep as I could go. And my mother said, "OH...Jess."

I penetrated in and out of her, doing what I had never expected to be doing, and became the person I now wanted to be, a son making love to his mother. I was in a moment I never wanted to leave, stroking my mother's wet pussy, listening to her say words only heard in fantasies, "Yes Jessie baby, you're doing it so good for mommy...so good inside me."

Her hips were moving to meet my thrusts and she pulled me into her with her hands fastened on my ass. I could feel her body trembling as I drove deep enough to make us one. And with each penetration into her welcoming channel, I fell in love with my mother.

And these are the words that always stay with me. Not because they're so poetic or beautiful, but because they were the truth of that moment we shared. Mom said, "Jessie, I love you, and I always wanted you like this; as soon as you grew up I stopped wanting anybody else. I always wanted to tell you, to touch you, to have you, like this...like this...like this..." Her words matched our rhythm as a mother and son fucked and made love. At that moment, there was no difference.

Her intensity deepened as I penetrated her and she said, "Oh Jess...Oh Jess, please tell me that you love me, tell me."

The sex and the love roiled in me. I said, "I love you so much mom." I was at a loss for words as I penetrated my mother's pussy, so I said it again and again as I took what many young son's want from their young mothers. And I told her I lover her.

"Yes baby," she said. "Love me, love me, love me..." The movements became frenetic as we both moved towards our inevitable orgasms. The thought that I was about to come inside my mother's pussy had me at a fever pitch. My bare cock was inside my mother's bare pussy and I was about to explode. I remember the instant that mom dug her nails into me; it triggered the release of my first hard stream of cum. I didn't have time to tell mom that I was coming, but she knew.

"YES baby," she cried out. "Yes, come inside me, come inside your mommy, OH...OH...OHHhhhhh..." I had no doubt that my mother was coming as she writhed and moaned while I was shooting cord after cord of my cum into her waiting pussy. She was holding her legs behind her knees as I pistoned as fast as I could in and out of her, until we both collapsed into each others arms. She kissed me a thousand times on my face and neck as she said, "Don't ever stop loving me like that Jessie, don't ever stop."

I said, "I never will mom." I was taken with how nice her body was. Her slim waist showed off her curves. I ran my hand over her tits and belly, down to her pussy. I held the sopping flesh and rubbed it.

Mom said, "Yes baby, it's for you, all for you." She kissed me long and deep as she formed her body to mine and then gave a long sigh of contentment.

After a moment I said, "I knew it would be good, but I didn't know it would feel that good to be inside a woman."

Mom's eyes widened and she almost bolted to a sitting position, as the pink flush left her face. She said, "God, no! Don't tell me that was your first time."

I didn't know why she was agitated and I just said, "So...?"

She said, "I thought you had done it with Rose last year...you were out late so many times, and that night when I got so mad at you for not calling...oh my God, I took your virginity."

I sat up and looked in her eyes and said, "Mom I'm glad it was you, it's something I'll have forever. It was great mom; it was beautiful, and you did it for me."

She touched my face and said, "Are you sure baby?"

I said, "I'm sure mom. Now, can we do it again? It won't be my first time anymore."

She laughed and I could see her body relax. She said, "Yes love, we can do it again, whenever you want to."

That began our affair. Certainly, it was about sex, for both of us. And it was more. I never doubted my mother's love for me. She proved it all summer long, each time she took me into her mouth, and into her pussy

At least that's how I remember it. There was all the touching, all the sucking, all the laughing, and all the fucking two people could do in two months that seemed to end in an instant. And with the end of summer came the beginning of the end of us. After endless talking and arguing, mom made me go off to school. She said I had to get on with my life. And she got on with her life. She started dating her manager at work.

Yes, sometimes we still made love. When I came home, she was there for me, for a while. And when she talked about Mr. Crick, whom she called Karl, and I called Mr. Prick, she kept telling me how kind and generous he was. He bought her this, and he bought her that, and finally, he bought her. He asked her to marry him and she said, "Yes."

I guess a part of me understood. She was tired of having nothing but a small rental apartment, a wreck of a car, and enough bills to make her dread picking up the mail and answering the phone. And despite my head reverberating with, 'Daniela don't do this,' I guess I respected her unwavering decision to stop sleeping with me because she was getting married. But I hated it. I hated every fucking minute of it, for a long time.

But, as I said, this is about now. So after eight years, I thought it was completely over, until a month ago when I heard those words, "I miss the way we used to be." She'd had a few too many drinks, and the next day she tried to back-track. She called to say that, "It came out wrong." I wasn't convinced, and even though we were both married by then, it didn't stop the re-kindling of my desire. I guess even one word is enough to change the flow of events; in this case, it was that sentence.

Carol and I had seen a lot of mom and Karl over the years since I had finished school, and we all got along. I stopped thinking of Karl as 'Mr. Prick' because he gave mom all the material things that made her life easy, and he wasn't a bad sort.

Was it inevitable that I would sleep with my mother again? No. No. That's a cop-out. We knew what we were doing, and we both wanted each other. Yes, we wanted each other so much we were willing to get into a swamp of immorality and guilt. Did we have reason to feel guilty when we first slept together as mother and son? Was it wrong? The question doesn't even make sense to me. Having incest with my mother was nobody's business but ours, and it was the sweetest love I'd ever known. No, it was just that for us, life, and love became a lot messier the second time around.

It didn't take long for the re-ignition. The day after mom said that she missed me, I called her. Here's the whole conversation with full orchestration.

"Mom, I'm coming over."

"Okay."

Nobody was under any illusions. When I got there she was in an expensive camisole of sheer black. I could see her bra and panties through it. I could see the wonderful full cleavage that formed as the bra pushed her tits together. "She said, "Jess, I missed you so much...it hurts me baby...I can't...I can't..." I could see she was getting teary and I wasn't sure if she was about to tell me that she couldn't go through with it, until she beckoned me with her arms. We kissed and I undid the two buttons that opened the nightgown. I pulled the top of her bra down to free her tits and took one of the big globes in my hand.

She remembered something I had told her a long time ago and said, "Does it still make you hard every time you see my breasts?" I put her hand on the unmistakably stiff answer and the word 'Yes' smiled out of her mouth.

Were those tits the same as they were eight years before? Did they stand as high on a forty six year old woman as they did on the thirty eight year old? To me it seemed so, and I didn't care if they didn't, because they were beautiful, and they were in my hands, and very soon I was going to be in the pussy of my first love. Yes, she was my first love and it's a bond almost as strong as that of a mother and son, and I had them both.

Mom had taught me how to love, physically and emotionally. I came to feel that there was more than just having her body. There was the feeling that she loved me and I loved her as we did all those things that made it so great.

We went to her bedroom and when I took the nightgown and bra completely off, she became self-conscious and said, "I got fat."

I looked at her like she was crazy. If she had put on a pound or two, it was where any man loves a woman to have it. I said, "You're more beautiful than you were eight years ago...and do you know something mom, I couldn't want you more than I do now. I've always wanted you, and this." I put my hand inside her panties and she closed her eyes as I rubbed the wet flesh. I said, "Daniela..."

She said "Yes," with a breath full of desire. During that summer when we first found each other, that was the word she had always said to me. There was nothing I could ask her that she wouldn't do. Even the one time I was sorry for what I put her through, she had still said, "Yes."

When her panties were off, I could see what I had felt, that her pussy was shaved the way she used to do it for me. She had the small patch of hair she kept over her bare folds that I loved to lick and suck. I pointed and said, "Did you stay that way since we were together?"

She said, "Yes."

I said, "Mom, did you think we were going to be together again?"

She said, "I guess a part of thought so, or hoped so...oh honey, you were the only one that was ever good for me...that I wanted like this...I wanted you for almost a year before you first touched me, and it never stopped...all this time...Jessie, please be inside me now." I wanted that more than anything.

Mom had enjoyed being taken from behind and we often started our lovemaking with her on the bed on her hands and knees, but now she got on her back and opened her legs. She said, "I want to look at you when you're inside me, come baby." Her arms were open and it was a picture of desire that I won't soon forget.

It was quick, that first time of our second go-round. I entered her pussy and we went from start to finish as if we were racing to see who would come first. Mom won, but not by much. I pumped my mother's pussy with rapid fire thrusts long after we both came. I knew it wouldn't be long before we would be at it again, and again.

I floated off into that timeless space that can follow satisfying sex as she talked about how much she'd missed being with me. I felt the stirrings again when my attention turned back to my mother when I saw her doing what she did with her nipples. That summer, I'd watched her many times doing it in the bath, or just sitting in bed. It was idle masturbation. She gently stretched the tips of both of her nipples. Not with her arms crossed, but with her elbows out so that her left hand was on her left tit and her right hand pulled on the nipple of her right tit. I bent over to suck on one of her globes and she fed it to me with a soft moan. She said, "I couldn't stand it any more Jess. The thought of not having in me ever again was torturing me. This is wrong, isn't it Jessie? I'm messing up your life."

I said, "Mom, we're both doing this because we need each other. What we want from each other, what we have together, it's never going to go away. I don't know what we're going to do about it, but I'm not giving you up again, do you hear me?"

Her voice was full of emotion when she said, "Yes baby, yes, I hear you." She kissed me passionately as her tongue played in my mouth and invited me to fuck her again. This time, it sweet and slow; we kissed and touched for a while then she did my body with her mouth. She kissed and sucked me everywhere until I couldn't wait anymore and I directed her to my cock. Before she started she said, "I know I'm not the only mother that has sex with her son, but I can't imagine one who loves her son more. And I don't care if I'm just being a fool. Even if you don't want me anymore tomorrow, I want tonight."

As she went down on me, I told her I'd want her forever, and I felt her lips and tongue working on me. After sucking on each of my balls, mom took the head of my cock into her mouth. My shaft rested on the soft pillows of her lips as her tongue teased the spongy swollen mass that the top of my cock had become. She ran her tongue around the crease of the helmet until my hips flexed to get her to start sucking. Only my mother could suck me with sex and love that I could feel with every stroke.

She moved up and down the shaft making the sounds I had almost forgotten a woman could make. It was a woman loving her man, and a mother loving her son. I said, "I've missed you so much mom," as I took myself almost unwillingly out of her mouth to take her pussy into mine.

She said, "Darling, darling, darling..." as I did all the things I had learned to do to her pussy during that golden summer. I sucked the fleshy folds and I massaged the rubbery clit that became erect in my mouth. I wanted to devour her, the way I wanted to when I was young and saw her legs in stockings, fantasizing about what was between them. As I sucked her, I wanted to be in all her holes at once. Pictures of all the possibilities flashed to the music of my mother's moans. I was thick in her mouth, wrapped in her pussy, and penetrated into the tight, hot depths of my mother's ass.

When I thought she was about to come, I stopped. She said pleadingly, "Oh Jessie, I was so close."

I said, "I know mom." I turned her and entered her pussy from behind. I wanted to pump her and I knew it took her longer to climax when she was in that position. I stroked all the way in and stayed for a moment. It reminded me why sex was so good with her. People talk about size all the time. It's only a part of the puzzle. What matters is how you fit, and I fit into my mother. For whatever reason, we were right for each other. I was the right size to make her feel it all, and she was the right size to make each penetration an exquisite massage along my shaft.

And if it's a cliché to say that we fit as hand in glove, it doesn't change the fact. That's how it feels to be inside my mother's pussy. And I love her. And she loves me. And as I'm stroking inside her I wished it could all stay as simple as the love we were making. And almost on cue mom said, "You're so good for me baby." And I knew it was so, because she was so good for me. And she asked me what she so often wanted to know when we first made love and I pushed in and out of her pussy, "Am I a good mom to you, am I baby?"

And I told her what I would always tell her, "You're the best."

I can see that night as if it's happening now. I turn her, and when she's on her back, I lift one of her legs and enter her again. It affords me an angle that usually makes her come. My cock is so hard; I can see a slight upward curve as it penetrates her pussy again and again. My straining cock enters and disappears inside her body. The sounds and fragrance of sex swirl around us. And then her back arches and she says, "OH, OH, OH..." and she's coming.