Tits Are Made For Sucking Ch. 04

Mom's last reserves crumble as she takes her incestuous pleasures, but only after a tearful admonition, and surprises her son with heretofore unknown skills and kink. Our hero anticipates a sleepover at Mike's.

From the Author -- I've gone this long without naming most of my characters, so let's rectify that. Of course, there's Mike, our hero's best friend. Mike's mother is Mrs. Sylvia Arden (using her maiden name, long after her divorce), age 40. Our hero's mother is Mrs. Phyllis Busby (also using her post-divorce maiden name), age 38. Our hero is Neil.

Now that that's settled, let's get on with the story.

All participants in this story are of legal age. Check out chapters 1-3 before reading this for more incest/gay/breastfeeding fun.

*

Mike silently closed and latched the back door behind me. On my way out, I ghosted past the window of his mother's bedroom. In the fading light, I could make out shadows rhythmically moving on the windowshade as I grabbed my Schwinn. Damn! Are they back at it already? I carefully walked the creaky bike out to the road before straddling it and pumping away, down the street.

I still had enough daylight to get home before Mom got wise. Switching on my near-useless headlight, I darted down an alleyway. The come in my shorts had grown cold, but I didn't mind.

My brain buzzed and my cock still ached from visions of what I just witnessed. As I rested between bouts of furious pedaling, I rubbed my crotch and ass against the bicycle seat, creating a warm, pleasant sensation. The bulge in my jeans was clearly visible in the failing light, and I fought against rubbing it. Two strokes of my hand would've sent me over the edge into another sticky release, but not on my bicycle!

Standing on my pedals and coasting, I turned down an unfamiliar street, into an adjoining residential area, with the hope of shaving a few minutes off my commute, but the best laid plans of mice and men...

Huge, old-growth trees lined the sidewalks, their canopies blanketing the neighborhood underneath, absorbing what little sunlight remained. Huffing and grunting, I powered through the addition to the open area beyond. That's when I spotted Mrs. Nelson.

I didn't see her, per se, but her vehicle. She had shown off her new, green Chevelle to everyone at school a few months ago. Of course, many students and some faculty envisioned getting Mrs. Nelson in the back seat and to some degree of nudity.

There was enough light for me to make out her hairdo. I stopped behind a massive tree trunk as her car rumbled past. Wow, is this her neighborhood? I had to find out, daylight be damned. Switching off my headlight, I trailed her for a couple of blocks until she turned down a side street. I nearly collided with a fireplug trying to keep up with her.

At last, she pulled into the carport of a dark, low, ranch-style home. I slouched behind a station wagon parked on the curb across the street to spy on her. Perfunctorally, she exited her car, big bag in hand and lunchpail in the other. With a flash of her silky calves, I watched her ass wiggle into the darkness. A light briefly appeared as she opened and closed a door, entering the home.

Behind me, the porch light of the house switched on, and I heard the latch to the front door click, like someone was coming out. Quickly, I memorized Mrs. Nelson's street address and slipped away, down the street.

"Hey, babe," Mom greeted me from the kitchen as I came in the back door. "Where've you been?"

Ah, my loving Mom, with her gentle meddling and genuine concern. I'll always be a child to her.

"Shot some hoops with the guys," I lied, giving her a quick kiss on the mouth. As our mouths pressed together, I reached around and gave her sweet, robe-covered rump a squeeze as she made herself a sandwich. "I'm gonna jump in the shower. I'm all sweaty."

"Okay," she said, distractedly. "Do you want a sandwich, too?"

"Yes, Mom. Thanks." I disappeared down the hall into the bathroom.

I stripped naked and jumped into the shower, lathering up my cock and balls, washing away any remainder of dry, crusted come. For appearances, I also washed my ass and pits just for Mom. She'd be sniffing me for that perfumed hint of Dial deodorant soap and, who knew, she may want some loving herself.

Rinsing the soap out of my ass, I let my fingers roam a bit, remembering the sensation Mike had created with his urgent pounding. Pushing between my buttocks, I rubbed my middle finger against my anus, circling it gently.

The sensation returned as I closed my eyes.

"Ohhh," I exhaled from parted lips in the foggy mist of the shower. The sensation mounted as I fingered my asshole around the rim, not quite entering it.

Goddamn, what is this? No matter, it feels great!

With my free hand, I gripped my hardness, pulling the skin taut as I finally pushed the tip of my finger inside my tight anus. God, it felt so very good. It was like I was pushing my cock out from behind!

I had to stop at that point, not wanting Mom to get suspicious. My showers usually took only a few minutes, but now I was running out of hot water. Still, I was fully erect and bobbing, needing release. I decided against returning to the living room naked and slipped on a pair of shorts. I had to point my cock up, against my belly, in a vain attempt to hide it.

When I returned to the living room, Mom was eating a sandwich in her ubiquitous Barcalounger, a tall glass of milk on the nearby TV tray. Another sandwich and glass of milk for me was perched on the other TV tray next to the sofa.

"My, you must be clean," Mom smirked. "You were in there long enough."

Her words were softened by that mocking tone and her beautiful smile.

"You're complaining about a clean son?" I shot back, sliding up onto the sofa with the glass of milk, taking a gulp, then grabbing the pimento and cheese sandwich.

"Oh, no." She also took a sip of her milk, looking over the rim at the television. "Especially not now."

I snorted. Hmmm, what a tease.

We worked on our food for a while, watching flickering images of the evening newscaster. Images of a foreign war, domestic protests, anger, violence and bloodshed were punctuated every few minutes by a commercial announcement for some shiny, new object or consumer service -- things that were supposed to make the purchaser happy and content, and perhaps the envy of their friends and neighbors. Mom finally piped up.

"You never told me - how did you make out on Mrs. Nelson's math test?"

Talk about a question from left field! I froze, blindsided. Whaaat?

She was referring to the lie I told her last week, the one I made up to spend some alone time with Mike after school.

I was overcome by a flush of anxiety. Oh, shit. I hadn't thought the lie through to its logical conclusion.

"Well, uh..." I paused. For the past several days, my brain had been too pre-occupied dealing with a sexual awakening. "We...we...I mean..." Meaningful words and coherent speech eluded me.

Mom interrupted, eyebrow cocked. "Don't hurt yourself, son. I know there wasn't a test, at least not the one you told me about. You just made that up." She took another bite from her sandwich, gazing at me with that same mischievous look as she chewed and swallowed.

"Okay, Mom," I stammered, finally getting my words free. "You caught me. I confess. I'm sor..."

"Honey," she interrupted me again, "you're legally a man, now. If you hadn't been accepted by the college, you'd be out in the jungle, halfway across the world, with a gun in your hand, fighting God knows what." Mom continued. "You'll always be my sweet boy, but now you're free to do as you wish." She paused, then added, "Within reason, of course. Believe it or not, we still have rules in this house."

"I know, I know. Let me explain, Mom."

But she wasn't done. My mother was going to speak her mind.

"All I ask is that you keep safe and don't get into trouble. At least don't get anyone pregnant." Then she answered the question forming in my head.

"And yes, in case you're wondering, I'm back on the pill." She swallowed a big gulp from her glass, her pointed, pink tongue catching an errant trickle of milk. "I don't want any mongoloid incest babies crawling around the house!"

"Oh, Sweet Jesus, Mom!" I exclaimed.

"Well, that's what happens!" She said with a flourish of her hand. "Or so I've been told."

On occasion, usually when she was flustered or emotional, Mom would let loose with a string of random thoughts that had been churning in her noggin, sort of a brain purge so she could think clearly again. This was one such occasion, and she was gaining momentum.

Of course, she saved the true drama for last. Slipping out of the Barcalounger, she knelt in front of me, looking up at my face.

"Angel." Her eyes gazed into mine, perhaps a bit dramatically. This was familiar territory. "You just promise me you'll go to college, make good grades, and don't drop out."

"Of course, Mom." What else could I say?

"Stay away from those filthy hippies and their drugs. I read an article about them in Newsweek that scared me to death!"

"Yes, Mom."

Her hands rested on the tops of my bare thighs. Looking down, beneath her chin, down her throat into her wonderful cleavage, I could see she was, again, naked under her loosely-tied bathrobe. The fingertips of her right hand were mere inches from my aching hard-on.

"If you drop out, then they'll send you away." A tear streaked from the corner of her eye, then another. "And I'll never see you again..."

Mom broke down into full-blown weeping as her head fell into my lap. I stroked her hair as sobs wracked her body. I knew she was concerned about me getting into college and being safe, but not to this extent. Christ, my mother was terrified!

"Mom, I'm not gonna flunk out of college and I'm not getting drafted!" I reassured her. That was the truth, to be sure. "I want you to be proud of me, and I want to be around to take care of you."

As Mom lifted her head, her face brushed across my covered erection, making it twitch. She glanced at it briefly, then sat up.

"Just be straight with me," she sniffled, dabbing the collar of her bathrobe against the corner of her eye. As I gazed down upon her, she grabbed a Kleenex and blew her nose.

"Okay, Mom," I reassured her. I figured a partial confession was in order. "If you must know, I've been going to Mike's after school." I reached out to touch her cheek. "You know we'll be out of school and off to different colleges before long, so we have a lot to talk about. We've been best friends for years!"

"I know where you've been, son," she replied without missing a beat, surprising me.

"Really? How?" I noticed her hand had slid up to my bulge and was gently rubbing it. "Are you following me, like a detective?" I was slightly pissed, but the sensation of her fingertips on my cock distracted me.

"Oh, please," she glared. "Mike's mother just told me casually."

"So she's watching us and reporting back to you?"

"No!" Her brow furrowed. Mom seemed to be back-pedaling as I questioned her for a change. "You know we work on the same street and have lunch together. Girls like to talk."

"I didn't know it was such a thing with you two." I was referring to both their frequent lunches and detailed chatter about their sons.

She pressed a hand against my bare chest, rubbing it. That and her other hand teasing my cock caused a warm sensation to surge inside me.

"Our lives have been quite similar, she and I, and yes, we keep each other informed about what our boys are up to. We love you guys. Don't you understand?"

Kneeling on the carpet, her body between my knees and pressed against the base of the sofa. Her hands reached up to massage my shoulders for a moment, our faces mere inches apart.

"You'll be rid of us when you both go to college," Mom whispered, her pleading eyes dark and wet.

"Oh, stop it, Mom!" I chastised her. "That's ridiculous!" In spite of my conflicted mood, the closeness of her body, her scent and her touch, was getting me worked up.

Mom's hands returned to my chest. With a smile, she started rubbing back and forth over my nipples, creating that wonderful tingling sensation I was becoming addicted to. Then she took them between her fingers, tugging them and rolling them gently. I took a breath and squirmed.

"Okay, then," she cooed, knowing the effect she was having on her son. "Can we play, now?"

So much for her original edict of abstaining during the work week, but I loved it. With a face reddened by need and desire, I nodded.

Immediately, Mom leaned forward and took my nipple in her mouth.

"Mmmm..." she moaned into my breast as she began to suckle. She tweaked my other nipple, too, forcing me to close my eyes momentarily and groan with pleasure. Barely concealed, my cock strained against the thin fabric of my shorts, feeling like it was about to break free.

"Oh, Mom, yes." I started to pant. "God, that feels so good."

She pulled away from my erect, glistening nipple for a moment, gazing back up at her son.

"I know, baby." She flicked her pointed tongue up and down my tender bud a few times. "Why do you think I like you to nurse you?" Then she took my other nipple in her mouth, creating a fresh shower of sparks. My cock began to hurt from being erect for so long.

I nuzzled the top of my mother's head while she took her incestuous pleasures. "I love sucking your tits, Mom. I love everything we've been doing."

She paused again, a strand of saliva stretching out between my nipple and her full, red lips before breaking.

"Really?" She smiled. She hadn't wiped off her lipstick yet, so my left nipple had a bright, red ring around it, with a lesser ring around my right nipple. "I haven't traumatized you and set you up for therapy and mommy problems the rest of your life?" Then she went back to her business, sucking and tugging. My tits were on fire, but I managed to keep a normal voice.

"No, Mom. I'm all grown up. This is my choice."

"I'm glad, honey." After every whispered comment, she quickly returned to suckling. I noticed her rubbing my erection more firmly, but just lightly enough to keep me from coming. Holy mother, this was so kinky, and what a combination of ecstasy and torture!

"Mom, you know you don't have to do this to keep me honest." I regretted the moment those words left my mouth, although they were true. She pulled back.

"Really? So you want me to stop?"

My mother could be such a smartass.

"No!" I said in a very firm tone.

"I didn't think so," she replied as I grabbed the nape of her neck and pushed my nipple back into her mouth.

I happened to look across the living room to the full-length mirror mounted on the opposite wall. It was more of a decorative mirror, with gold spidering through it in a Mod fashion, meant to give that particular corner of the room more depth. I hadn't noticed it for years, but I was sitting in the perfect position to see myself. What I saw was a young man, helpless with pleasure, his mother kneeling between his open legs, her head pressed against his chest.

"And we could suck each other's tits all day long," I sighed, watching our taboo dalliance in the mirror.

"That settles it, then," Mom replied. She was now tugging gently at both my nipples, gazing up at her son with those full, red lips and bewitching eyes. "It's only fair, you know," she giggled. "Tit for tat."

She went back to her business for a few more minutes until I pulled her head away.

"My cock's hurting, Mom," I whispered. "I need to come."

"Yes, my love," she said. "But first, a kiss."

We met each other halfway as our mouths locked together, necking like horny teenagers. Our hands met as we both slid my shorts down my thighs and legs, kicking them away as she let her robe slip down to her waist. My cock jutted aggressively toward her face.

"Oh, myyyy," Mom cooed, wrapping her delicate fingers around my erection, her red-painted fingernails glinting in the ambient light. A drop of semen quivered at the tip. "Honey, you need relief." She gazed up at me again. "Let's get this orgasm out of the way. That'll give you some staying power when you're fucking me."

Hearing that, another shudder of arousal passed through my young body. It wasn't like Mom had never used the F-word before, especially since we became lovers, but hearing her curse still sounded unnatural, perverted in a way. For years, she had been so very controlled, a solid motherly presence. Adjusting to the language of a lover after countless years of parental-speak would take some time.

She gently pumped my cock, squeezing it. "This thing's about to blow," she said, not without some degree of lust in her voice.

With that, she gripped the base of my cock and took the purple tip in her mouth, head bobbing expertly, until she was all the way down my shaft, eliciting another groan from deep inside my chest as I fought to keep still. God, who knew she was such a pro? I wasn't exactly experienced in receiving head, but damn! Mom slurped away at my cock as I surrendered to waves of pleasure that rendered me helpless.

Looking down, I studied her wet lips locked around my saliva-coated tool, her cheeks bowing with intense suction. I could feel her hot breath as she huffed air, her head undulating rhythmically like a sexy flesh pump. I couldn't help but compare her technique and enthusiasm to Mike's, and my own. I could only wonder at how she developed such skills, and wanted to learn them for my own use. No question, I was discovering a lot about my mother I didn't know.

Mom was right, my cock was a dam about to burst. Watching us in the mirror, her head bobbing up and down, her lovely, curvy body stripped to the waist with the robe collected around her hips, I felt it coming.

I leaned back against the sofa, closing my eyes as the delicious sensation intensified. My hands rested on her bare shoulders as she kept a steady rhythm.

My cock started twitching as I neared orgasm. Mom knew exactly what was going on and moaned her approval. Then it hit.

"Coming...coming!" I whimpered.

A tiny convulsion seized my loins as I gasped. I tried to keep from bucking against her mouth as I felt a come erupting up the length of my shaft and right down her throat. The sheer copiousness of my ejaculation, which lasted for almost a minute, passing from my body to her throat, and the thought of Mom swallowing my seed for the first time blared in my head, spurring me on.

She snorted, choking for a split-second, then rallied as she swallowed most of my load. An errant dribble of pearly-white goo trickled down my balls as her bobbing slowed.

"Ohhh, Mama...Mama!" I almost wept with pleasure and the joy of release after having been pent up for so very long. She held my cock tight, still not releasing it from her powerful suction. Slowly and surely, she pulled her head back incrementally as the orgasm subsided, leaving a shiny, semi-erect cock.

The act of coming down my mother's throat drained me in more ways than one. My body felt like lead, words eluding me, as she licked my shaft and balls clean.

"Well, how was that?" She asked, smacking her lips with satisfaction, damn well knowing the answer.

"Uh...Mom...uh..." I could only stare down at her like a vacant-headed fool.

"I haven't done that in years," She said like she was speaking to herself. "I need to practice some more. Maybe later." Mom, are you fucking kidding me? Forget that. Practice as much as you want.

She didn't immediately abandon my cock. Her fingertips remained, rubbing my wet, limp noodle as if caressing the soft fur behind a cat's ears.

"Let's just stay here for a moment, baby." Mom kissed my thigh.