The Twisting, Winding Road

For several minutes, I stood at the edge of the bed and drank in the sight of my naked mother. Even having just cum into her, I could still feel me becoming aroused again. Standing at the side of the bed, I pulled her to the edge and raised her legs upright. My teenage libido was in full swing, and after a few more seconds, my eighteen-year-old cock was hard again. I pushed it back into mother. Violating mother again, I watched as my cock I plunged in and out. It felt like heaven.

Mother continued to lay there with her arm over her eyes as I ravaged her again. She made no move to stop me nor said a single word. This time, my arousal was greater than before, and I came again inside mother after just a few minutes.

As I pulled out of mother's pussy for the third time in less than 24 hours, I looked down on her. "If you want to claim I raped you, go ahead. But for right now, clean up. The Reverend and Mrs. Morton is coming to dinner, remember?" I walked to the door. "One other thing, you will not lock your door again, understood?" She continued to lay there silently.

"Understood???", I repeated sternly. Without removing her arm, she nodded.

"Good. Get dressed and let's get dinner on the table."

After cleaning up myself, I fixed the shower curtain again to the ceiling. Mother by that time was in the kitchen. She was wearing the same dress as she did this morning, along with her Sunday high heels. She was intent on cutting vegetable and preparing the meal. Walking up behind her, I placed my hands around her waist. Initially, she tensed up, but then relaxed as I kissed her neck. After a few seconds, she pleaded "please stop. I need to finish dinner." I agreed and turned on the TV to watch a football game on the old black and white TV that we had.

About 5:00 p.m. Reverend and Mrs. Morton appeared at the door, and I invited them in. Sitting down to dinner at our small dining room table, mother was seated to my right. Reverend Morton was opposite me and his wife was to my left. After settling in, Reverend Morton asked to say grace. We all bowed our heads, and he began.

The dominance that I had earlier discovered arose again. As he continued to pray, I reached under the table and placed my hand on mother's knee and then under her skirt. At first, she subtly grabbed my hand and tried to push it away, but I continued to probe underneath her skirt. Perhaps because she feared discovery, she relinquished, and I placed my hand on her pussy.

In the early 60s, pantyhose was not prevalent. Women wore garter belts, panties, and hose. Tonight, mother had the usual garter belt and hose, but much to my surprise, mother was wearing no panties. I began to press my middle finger into her pussy. As the reverend continued his overly long grace, I fondled the entrance to her pussy. Slowly, she spread her legs far enough apart to get my middle finger into her hole. I ran my finger in and out until I heard Rev. Morton say "Amen." I looked up to see mother's face flushed and breathing heavily. The good reverend said "Anne, are you alright? You seem a little red in the face."

"I'm fine" she said. "Just a little warm in here, that's all. Can we serve you some chicken? Paul, please pass the chicken to Reverend Morton." I knew I had to have both hands, so I brought my hand back to my lap, but not before I wiped off mother's juices on my napkin. Looking over at mother, she glanced and me and smiled slightly. Whatever doubts or fears I had about my actions had partially disappeared.

After dinner, there was polite conversation, some gossip, and then a closing prayer just as the sun began to set. As they walked down the steps and into the street, I turned to mother and grabbed her hand. Leading her into the house, I quickly pulled her to the couch and kissed her fully on the lips. As tried to place my tongue into her mouth, she initially did not open her mouth but then responded but in a rather shy, reserved way. But then, mother broke our kiss, looked into my eyes, and resumed kissing me passionately. Pulling her up from the couch, I led her by her hand to my bedroom where I turned her around to face me. The look that she had on her face was a curious one, one that contained no anger, no accusations, no sadness. Maybe I could best describe it now as one of resignation and acceptance.

Standing in front of her, I slowly unbuttoned the front of her dress to reveal a satin slip underneath. Anticipating my intentions, she raised her arms, and I pulled her slip over her head. Standing there, panty-less in just her bra, garter belt, and hose, I slowly spun her around so that I could undo her bra. As it fell to the floor, I reached around her waist to pull her close to me. Reaching up to her breasts, I began to caress her nipples. In turn, mother allowed her head to drift back to my shoulder allowing me to kiss her neck and face. Reaching down with my right hand, I continued my fingering session that had begun during dinner. As I reached her pussy, I found that she was incredibly wet. Slowly, I began to slide my finger in and out of her pussy while she began to moan. As I caressed her pussy, she unexpectedly guided my finger to her clitoris. Using her hand to teach mine, I circled her clit over and over until at last she arched her back, gripped my hand firmly, and moaned.

Gently, I picked her up in my arms and carried her to my bed. I wasted no time in undressing in front of mother. As I undressed, I watched her watch me, and saw her eyes widen as I pulled down my briefs. My cock was hardening fast, and I noted a look of curiosity as she watched me grow in front of her. Once I was nude, I stood in front of her and allowed her to see me in my total nudity. She said nothing at first, just simply looking at my manhood. Reaching for my cock, she took it in her hand. At first, she continued to look at my cock as she inspected it for the first time. "Paul, you are so hard," and she began to slowly stroke my member. As she did, her eyes never left my cock, as if this were something entirely new. Then, she reached for my hand and pulled me into the bed. Once I was lying beside her, she looked at me and said "you don't have to force me anymore. I am yours to take anytime. Just be gentle and love me."

Once again, I found myself entering mother's pussy. This time, however, there was no accidental or forced sex. This time I made love to mother. Every ounce of my body yearned for her love and her acceptance of me in her bed. We were not two people but rather one.

For the next two weeks, mother only slept in my bed. We consciously chose to sleep in my room because of the proximity of our next-door neighbor, a Mrs. Rolston who was particularly nosey. This was a small town and any hint of incest between us would cause a firestorm of gossip, accusations, and eventual exile. But like moths to a flame, we could not resist each other's touch, and we made love almost every night. Gradually, we began to try new positions and experimented with the little knowledge that we both possessed. There was no doubt that neither mother nor I had any true sexual experience before that time. We had no road maps to guide us on this journey. We relied on each other to help the other find our way.

Over time, mother's personality changed from a stern, unyielding parent to a submissive, playful sexual partner. I had become the steady rock for which she had needed all those years. I had effectively stepped into a role far different than a caring son. I truly became the man of the house.

Over time, she began to reveal her past with my father. They had met at a church function when he was in the seminary. He was 21 and she had just turned 18. She was an orphan, the child of an unwed mother. They quickly fell in love and immediately wanted to marry. Very wealthy, his mother and father had flatly refused to give their blessings to their marriage, and they had decided to elope. Both were virgins, and they consummated their marriage on their wedding night at a small hotel as they traveled to his first church assignment at our hometown. Their one and only coupling was an awkward one, with my father barely inside mother when he orgasmed. Embarrassed, my father was unable to achieve an erection the rest of that night. The next day, as he was crossing the street in front of their hotel, he was struck and killed by a car. Mother was devastated. Although his parents came to the funeral, they offered no help to mother. Only later did she learn that she was pregnant with me. She told me that I was her miracle baby and that she thought that God had given me to her. For that reason, she had always tried to be a pious person.

After the funeral, she took the insurance policy that the church had provided for him, and she purchased the small frame house that we lived in. The church had also taken her in as the church secretary, a position in which she excelled.

On the fourth Sunday after our initial encounter, Reverend Morton gave the proverbial "fire and brimstone" sermon intended to light up the congregation. As I sat in my usual seat on the front row, I watched mother's expression as he described the burning pit that was the destiny of all sinners. I could tell the impact that his words were having, and I dreaded what the outcome of that sermon would be. When we got home after the service, mother was unusually quiet the rest of the day. Once bedtime came, she walked to her bedroom door, and without looking at me, asked if she could sleep alone tonight. I agreed reluctantly as I knew the anguish that she was undergoing. As I drifted off to sleep, I missed her touch and the closeness that all couples feel.

The next morning, I was awakened by mother. Outside, darkness was slowly giving away to the coming dawn. Wearing a thin cotton dress, she commanded "get dressed. We have something to do," she said.

I quickly got dressed and followed her outside into the street. Walking to the front of the church, she unlocked the door, and we went inside. Down the aisle of the chapel we went, her holding my hand as we walked along the carpet runner between the pews. At the altar, she knelt, pulling me down with her. Looking at me and then toward the altar, she said "Paul, we have to pray for forgiveness, pray for our souls so that we will no longer sin together." As I had so many times before, I obeyed mother, bowed my head, and began to pray with her.

As she prayed out loud for us, I glanced up to the altar. Her faint shadow was visible on the pulpit. A small beam of sunlight had come through the stain glass window behind mother and was shining directly on her. I looked at her and was struck by her beautiful figure perfectly outlined by her thin cotton dress. Her beautiful, shapely ass sat slightly spread on the back of her heels. Unlike other dresses that she wore, her cleavage was on full display. Being slightly above her, I noticed her breasts rising and falling with each breath. I was there trying to pray that we could be forgiven, but I could not overcome the carnal urges that arose in me. I gently placed my left arm around her waist and pulled her close to me as she continued to pray. I leaned over and began to kiss her neck and then with my right hand caressed her breasts. Her breathing began to increase until she stopped praying.

Softly, she said "please son. Not here." As I continued to caress her body and kiss her face, she kept her hands together and silently prayed. Soon, I reached under her dress and began to knead her panty-covered ass. Reaching a breaking point, I pushed her forward into her hands and knees and raised her dress above her waist. With a quick motion, I pulled my pants down, pulled her panties to one side, and place my cock at the entrance of her pussy. Hanging her head down, she shook her head side to side and continued to implore me to stop. However, she took no action to stop me, and my lust was far beyond my ability to cease my actions. Gripping her by the waist, I began to slowly push my cock into her wet, warm pussy. Looking down, I watched my cock spread her pussy open as I pushed further and further inside mother.

"Please, Paul. We must stop. We are in our church. We can't do this." As I continued, she began to respond by meeting my thrusts with her own. Soon, her pleas to stop progressively changed to begging me to continue. Our mutual animal lust had taken over, and I continued to push my cock in and out of her willing pussy. Just before I could cum, she said, "Paul, I want you on top of me." Taking my cue, I turned her over. I grabbed her panties, pulled them off, and tossed them to one side. Quickly, she pulled me down, grabbed the back of my neck with her right hand, and placed her left on my waist. Wrapping her legs around my waist, she kissed me deeply as I entered her. In the middle of the church, in front of the altar, I was once again fucking mother with all abandon. There was no pretense this time. I repeatedly pushed my cock in and out of her pussy while she began to moan louder and louder. My orgasm quickly built and less than a minute later, I had filled her pussy up with my seed.

Just as we were barely calming down, we both heard the unmistakable whistling of Reverend Morton as he walked up the steps to the church. Quickly, we grabbed up her panties, and I hurriedly buttoned my pants. Moving as fast as we could, we ran to the back door of the church. As the Reverend entered the front, we quietly exited out the back. Once outside, we walked briskly back home.

We had almost made it to the corner of our lot when we saw our neighbor, Mrs. Rolston, walking toward us. Without wanting to seem suspicious, we stopped and began to chat with her as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. When asked by Mrs. Rolston, mother explained to her that we had decided on a morning walk. As the two of them continued to rehash the latest church events and local gossip, I noticed the unmistakable stream of semen running down mother's bare leg. I could tell that mother was getting more and more anxious that Mrs. Rolston might suspect something, so I interrupted their conversation saying "Mother, remember that you have something baking in the oven." She replied, "oh yes, Paul, thank you for reminding me." She excused us and we quickly disappeared into our house.

Once inside, we looked at each other with momentary mutual expressions of relief, and then we both burst out laughing. "Something in the oven?? Is that the best excuse you could come up with?", she laughingly exclaimed. "At least I didn't say 'bun in the oven'", I replied. Again, we both burst out laughing and thanked the Almighty for our escape. As the laughter finally died down, I reach out to her and brought her firmly into my arms. Kissing her passionately on the lips, we responded in kind. Scooping her up in my arms, I carried her to my room, where we again made love once more before we began our day.

After the church episode, the sexual boundaries between mother and son were obliterated. From that moment on, our life together was a strange mixture of sexual exploration and intimacy, along with a dash of excitement that our forbidden relationship would be exposed. Perhaps it was the thrill of exposing our illicit coupling or our newly discovered passion for one another. Whatever the reason, we were on a journey of sexual discovery wherein we were eager to push the boundaries. Although our home offered a sanctuary of privacy, we found ourselves wanting to go out like any other couple. Our hometown was too risky, but Kansas City was within driving distance and offered us the anonymity which we craved. My grocery store job afforded us one night per weekend, and we would drive there in an old Ford sedan that we owned. Dancing at dinner clubs, sitting in darkening movie theatres, or just simply necking in the park, we sought out any place where we could love and make love to one another. In each hideaway, we would kiss and fondle each other as much as we could without discovery. Dancing with mother was particularly sensuous and would drive us mad with passion, often ending with a tryst in the front seat of our car. But the darkened movie theatres offered the ideal location for testing the limits of our sexual adventures.

The ever-present risk of discovery always loomed over us like a specter. One Saturday night stands out in my mind because how close we came. We always chose movies that we knew would be low in attendance, and we always chose to sit in the back toward the outside edge of the theatre. Sitting in the dark we would allow our hands to explore as much we could. That fateful night, we were deeply kissing like teenagers as mother stroked my cock through my pants. Suddenly, she excitedly whispered in my ear, "Paul, what is that couple doing?" Looking right to the other side of the theatre, I could barely make out the unmistakable form of a woman with her head in a man's lap. I could clearly see that her head was bobbing up and down and that his hands were gripping her by the hair. "What is she doing!!" mother whispered in my ear. Looking back at her, I said "I think that she is giving him a 'blowjob'." "A blowjob? What is that?" she whispered. I knew what it was, but I had never experienced it myself. Now, I was being asked by mother to explain what was happening. "Well,", I began, "she has his penis in her mouth and is sucking on it." She continued to watch for a few more seconds and asked, "what happens when he, you know, spills his seed?" I replied that I didn't know.

She then said, "do you want me to do that to you?" I quickly nodded. "Just don't put your seed in my mouth" she added.

I watched her unzip my pants, pull out my erect cock, and lower her head. As I soon discovered, mother was a natural at sucking my cock. Slowly, she took the tip into her mouth and began to suckle my manhood. Gradually, she took more and more of my cock into her mouth until she had almost engulfed the entire six inches. Her tender lips formed the perfect seal around my shaft, while she gripped it with her right hand. With my left hand I began to caress mother's ass as she slid her lips up and down my shaft.

Taking a cue from the man across the room, I grabbed mother's hair with my right hand and guided her up and down. As I could feel my semen begin to rise, I whispered a warning to mother that I was about to cum. But she continued up and down. As I tried to hold back my orgasm, I knew that I was about to shoot my seed into mother's mouth. Again, I whispered frantically, but she continued. Finally, the urge to cum was too great, and I felt my balls jerk again and again. Mother slowed her pace and stopped, my semen filling her mouth.

Suddenly, I heard someone say, "Oh my Lord, how disgusting. STOP THAT, YOU TWO!! I am reporting you to the management!" Instantly, I recognized the voice as belonging to Brother Daniels, a deacon at our church and the owner of a car dealership that backed up to our home. He was the one individual who would instantly report us to the congregation.

Looking over my right shoulder, I could see someone looking at us, but the darkness prevented either of us from clearly seeing the other. I saw the figure of a man and a woman exit hurriedly from the theatre, presumably to return with an usher. Neither mother nor I wanted to be identified as the offending couple. I hurriedly stuffed my cock into my pants, grabbed mother's hand, and led her out of the side fire door just as the usher and Deacon Daniels was returning to the theatre. The side door opened into the alleyway, which we used for a hasty getaway. As we exited the alley at the street, I saw the door of a crowded diner just to our left. We walked quickly to the door, and I pulled mother inside.

As I asked for a table for two, the waitress complimented mother on her dress. I looked at mother who had then raised her hand to her mouth. That's when it hit me. She had not made a sound since our narrow escape just moments ago. Her mouth was still full of my semen! Mother and I stared at each other for a few moments, and then I noticed her swallow. Still covering her mouth to hide the remnants of my orgasm, she thanked the waitress and said, "I wore it for my special man here." "He is certainly handsome," the waitress said. "If he has a brother, I would love to meet him." Mother shook her head. "No, he is one of a kind."