Waking to a Burn

"Mom," I groaned.

She didn't pull away. Her lips slid down deep, and she held there. I snatched a breath, eyes tightly shut, and didn't make another sound.

Mom's hums grew louder as my semen began to fill her mouth in spasms so satisfying as to render me paralyzed.

More.

And still more.

Surely, I thought in my ecstasy, my climax didn't last this long in her anus.

More spasms. I couldn't tell if I was still feeding my semen to her or delivering empty contractions.

She hummed in alarm as the last convulsion ended.

I let out my breath.

Mom didn't move for several seconds. She whimpered once. Then, I heard a slosh, a slurp, and guttural gulp. I felt the undulation of her throat on the knob of my penis, and it was a short, final jolt of pleasure that thrilled every hair on my body and raised goosebumps on my skin.

My penis felt the cool air; Mom gasped. Her head bent up, and she looked at me. Those blue eyes were impossible to read beyond that they seemed fatigued. Her face was pink with the exertion. Her chin and lips shined with saliva. I caressed her head, and she laid it down on my thigh.

"Thank you," I told her, again and again, while I ran my fingers through those silky piles of blonde curls.

Mom sighed drowsily.

Some minutes later, I asked her if I could put my mouth between her legs sometime.

She shook her head.

"Why not, Mom?"

She told me her special woman's place was off-limits.

"Why?"

She told me it was a line she could never cross. She said she could satisfy my urges with her body, but not there.

I asked her about satisfying the urges of her body.

She told me that her urges were always satisfied when mine were.

I asked her if she was satisfied now.

She nodded, and she dragged her fingers under her chin, down her neck to her belly. Then, she rubbed her tummy and hummed sweetly.

I picked up the book and read it to her. The words spilled from my tongue, but I hardly registered their meaning.

I was fixated on my Mom's secret place. I wanted to see, smell, touch, and taste it. I wanted to bring her pleasure there with my tongue. After twenty minutes of reading, I set the book aside, climbed out from under Mom, and took a shower.

I was agitated. The hot water rolled over me, filling the inside of the tub with steam, but my mind would not relax. It struggled with the problem of mom's special place.

Her decision to essentially ban me from it didn't make any sense. I had freely and happily allowed her to put her mouth on my penis. So why couldn't I put my mouth between her legs? She was, I told myself, like a person who gives wonderful presents, but refuses to accept any.

That isn't right. You have to let people, I argued, show love and gratitude in return.

But was that--fairness and gratitude--really what I was after?

No, I admitted. There was more to it.

I wanted to give her an orgasm--many. More than that, I wanted all of her body. It infuriated me to think there was a part of her denied to me. I wanted her woman's secret.

I went to bed beside her. Neither of us woke in the night.

***

As usual, I woke early--before Mom even stirred--so, I went grocery shopping for us to resupply on simple things for me to make for us. Afterward, I stopped at the drug store to resupply us with ointment. After grabbing a tub, I wandered the aisles a bit aimlessly, thinking about Mom's special place.

It was in the haircare aisle that I suddenly got inspiration. It was the handles on the various brushes that triggered the thought. There was an aspect of woman's personal sex toy in their design--the bright plastic colors, the knobs and grooves.

I decided to look for what I wanted.

Mom texted me while I was at the check-out counter. I told her I would be back soon to help, and I was extremely excited.

Hauling in and putting away the cold stuff from the grocery store, I finished and raced up to her bedroom with my purchase, keeping it hidden.

"Itchy, sugar! I'm so itchy!"

"I've got you," I said.

Not straddling, but sitting beside her, I spent a good long time applying the gel cream all over her back and legs. I put two coats on her--one to ease the itchiness and a second to give her a long, relaxing massage.

Neither of us spoke. She sighed and hummed her satisfaction. I stared greedily at her bottom.

I did not spend much time on her anus during the first application. During the second, I gently fingered her for a bit. After a minute or so, I asked Mom to spread her legs a touch. I said, "I won't look at your special place."

She held in place for a moment as if considering the idea.

"Mom," I said, "I won't put my eyes or hands on it."

Reluctantly, she opened her legs.

I grasped the handle of the device I bought at the drug store. Moving it between her legs, I turned it on. A low electrical buzz filled the bedroom. Before Mom could say anything, I brought the knob to her special place. Mom's body flinched. She said, "What is--oh, dearie!"

I moved the knob up and down. Mom gasped--twice, and then she moaned deeply. Her body squirmed. She huffed, "Sugar, that's--that's my woman's secret."

"I'm not touching it or looking at it."

"But--but--," she stammered. When she felt me penetrate her with the massaging knob, her head sank into the pillow and she murmured, "Oh, heavenly days."

"Tell me how it feels," I said, circling the inside of her

"Oh, sugar," she huffed. "It feels like diamonds."

I almost laughed she was so engrossed in her pleasure. Stifling it, I said, "I'm getting behind you. I'm going to look at it."

With a soft moan, she huffed, "I don't think--. Maybe you shouldn't--."

I rotated the massage wand inside of her, and she gasped with pleasure, opening her legs a fraction more.

I hauled them further apart and climbed between. For the first time in my life, I saw her special place. Without a trace of hair, it glistened with her fluids. I liked how the outer lips spread apart, revealing a pink, surprisingly fleshy little butterfly. I could have reached out and pinched each wing between my index finger and thumb to draw her wide open. When her legs were closed, I knew, those wings would jut out of the crease, impossible to hide. The sight of her clitoris thrilled me, too. With her legs open, the hood poked out--neither large nor small, just prominent. Unmistakeable.

Holding the personal massager against her, I told her that I was looking at her woman's secret. "I like it," I muttered.

"Oh, no," Mom moaned in response.

Her utterance briefly pulled me out of the moment. Her body so replete with pleasure, the words came out between breaths, and her tone had in it a kind of resignation. It was as if she knew something terrible and beautiful had become inevitable.

Gazing at her vulva, I knew she was right to submit to whatever happened next. The desire I felt in that moment was like programming, written into me before even birth. I must do things, I thought, to her special secret.

I first wanted to lick it. "Get on your hands and knees," I said.

"Oh, no," she moaned, but she did it. She pushed herself up.

Switching hands with the massager to keep it in place, I rolled onto my back and shoved myself under her.

"Oh, dearie."

With the knob of the massager buried in her vagina, I raised my chin and extended my tongue toward that prominent, jutting pink hood. Before I touched her there, I felt something on the bed move.

I bent my head back and saw Mom's hefty breasts dangling. Underneath them were her eyes, looking at me. Her mouth hung open as if in a state of shocked anticipation.

Without breaking eye contact, I slowly licked her secret place. Mom's eyes closed, and she poured out a sigh of deepest satisfaction, quickly followed by "Oh, no. Oh, no."

Before licking again, I asked her why she kept saying that.

Blinking and recovering her voice, she said, "Because you're going to mate with me now."

Shaking my head, I replied, "I just wanted to see what it was like, maybe lick it--just to give your body pleasure like you gave--."

She interrupted me. "I know my special place. I know what happens to a man who gets inquisitive about it."

I stared at the pink slit, and I licked her again.

Mom gasped.

I said, "You can tell me to stop."

"Then stop."

"You want me to?"

She didn't say anything.

I said, "Just one more time."

She waited for it, cooing sweetly when she felt my tongue. It was thrilling to know that my touches to her secret elicited such delight. For the first time, it felt like getting to know the woman who became my mom. The pretense of motherhood had fallen away. She seemed younger than her age. I loved it.

I clutched her hips and brought my mouth to that beautiful pink hood. There, I fastened my lips over it and drew upon it as if it were the nipple of a bottle.

I felt Mom melt over me. She sighed deeply. Her knees slid apart, and she lowered herself to me. No longer having to crane my neck to reach her, I continued to nurse on and around her clitoris. At the same time, I shut off and set aside the massager, raising a hand toward her special place. Finding it, I wriggled my middle finger between the wings of that pink butterfly. Her body was ready for it; natural lubrication allowed the slow passage of my finger inside.

My gosh, I realized, the whole area--her entire groin--was soft and elastic. She was my opposite. Beyond this realization lay the knowledge that her special place perfectly embraced my finger in luxuriant tautness. I rocked my finger back and forth inside of her, concentrating so hard on the sensation that I was no longer using my mouth.

What I felt was not possible. It wasn't. How--How!--could it be like this? I wondered. From the first, my thoughts instantly went to how this might feel on my penis. Not for long because I knew. I knew it was exactly what I needed. I never understood what it was I yearned for until I felt it, then, there.

I extricated myself from underneath Mom and rose behind her.

"Oh, no," she whimpered.

Her words pulled me out of a spell. I hesitated, saying, "I'm not--. I'm just--."

Mom pushed herself to her hands and spun her head as far as it could to see me. Those luscious piles of blonde hair cast about her face, shoulder, and back in lovely disarray. Her face glowed with a thin layer of perspiration. Her eyebrows hung high, pinched together in trepidation. Mom's blue eyes were big and alert. Her lower lip hung open. She licked her lips and watched me fearfully.

I grabbed my erection and inched closer on my knees.

Before me lay a feast of female sensuality. Mom's height masked much of her weight, but there were signs--two tiny clefts where bone pinched against fat at her hips. Yet, her waist narrowed sublimely; no surprise that she was a model. Despite being directly behind her, the girth of her heavy breasts was visible on the sides of her ribcage. The shapeliness of her bottom was worthy of the most egregious and flagrant of curse words. Two heavenly globes of flesh, squeezed together and sparsely marked by cellulite. So big and curvy that, from my vantage, her special place could not be seen.

The knob of my erection disappeared beneath her fanny, not yet touching her secret, but close. I muttered, "Just want to touch you with it."

I believed that. I truly did.

My penis alighted on her woman's secret. The suppleness of her body, in harmony with her warm, slick fluids, permitted entry--encouraged it, really--despite my intentions. I planned on brushing the tip up and down along her slit a few times. What actually happened was the knob immediately sank inside of her.

Mom's eyes went wide with shock. Her jaw gaped.

I could not stop the blissful groan that escaped me. Our eyes met. "Mom--!" I started, unable to finish.

"Oh, no!" she cried out, seeing my astonishment and exhilaration.

"I can't--. It's too--." Without completing either thought, I pulled on her waist. Ploddingly, my erection harbored in her special place.

While my mind reeled at the wonder of it, I heard Mom's desperate voice. Huffing for air, she stammeringly declared that I was mating with her. Whether it was a complaint or a simple announcement was unclear. Next, as if her initial statement hadn't already made it obvious, she gasped, telling me that my penis was inside her woman's secret.

I drew back and hilted my erection again. The sensation wrecked my mind.

"Oh!" she cried as I armed my hips and drove into her again. "Your penis!"

If I hadn't already ejaculated three times over the previous days, I knew that I would be climaxing that very moment. I could not have lasted. As it was, I felt grateful to be able to continue.

"Your penis!" she hollered again, only this time there was less urgency, more acquiescence and satisfaction. She turned forward, head high, and let me continue. Never pushing back, never gyrating, she submitted to my thrusts, expressing her pleasure in high, airy moans.

The one and only disturbance--like a lone dark cloud in an otherwise clear sky--was her sunburn. The supple, yielding elasticity of her body and the unfulfillable longing of her soft moans invited deep, mighty thrusts. I wanted to mash our bodies together forcibly, but I knew I couldn't without hurting her.

Even so, her body charged mine with rippling vigor and acute pleasure. Releasing her waist, I clutched my head as if to contain it all, to keep my brain from shattering while I drove into her. A low groan escaped me. It was too much, too fast, and too good. My hips responded by slowing.

"Mom--."

In desperation, she cut me off, urging, "Don't stop, sugar! Please!"

Her voice triggered me like a starter's pistol. Immediately, my hips reloaded and fired. Mom cried out. In seconds, I found a deep, energetic rhythm. Everything inside me sparked into a blaze.

Mom hollered her ecstasy. I watched her breasts rock, absorbing the power of each thrust. She arched her lower back sharply down, and her fanny grew before me. The cleft sprang upward. The outer curves widened. The bulbous halves drew apart. I could see her tiny pink anus throbbing. Just under it, I saw the proof of our coupling. There, beneath me, was my erection, glistening with her fluids and driving into her.

I groaned the words. "Mom, your special place--."

"Yes," she gasped. "My secret!"

I could not hold back what was coming. I told her what was about to happen.

Whether it was those words or it was just time, Mom issued a long moan that spanned my next several thrusts. Her body tightened everywhere. Deep inside, her body tugged my penis--squeezed and coaxed at it. It froze me there, fully immersed.

I was ejaculating. The contractions made my body convulse against her. I sucked in a breath and held it, relishing in the firestorm of ecstasy.

Mom felt my semen besiege her special place. She bayed exhaustedly.

It ended, and I groaned as I let out that breath. I didn't pull out. The storm in my body abated, leaving me tranquil and spent.

Head sunken, back undulating, Mom wheezed before me.

There were no words, I realized. Nothing could describe what I felt. I huffed, "I never meant to--. I couldn't stop it was so good."

She hummed a high note, acknowledging my words.

I pulled out of her. Easing down, she rested on her tummy with a sigh. When I lay beside her, she turned to face me. We recovered in silence for the next few minutes.

The next time I looked her way, she seemed exhausted, but she searched my face in a way I had seen many times before. She was concerned. The unease of her expression made me second-guess myself, my actions. Had I broken something--something fundamental--in our relationship?

Her voice interrupted my thoughts. "You're a man now," she said.

I opened my mouth and found I had no reply.

"Not just because you've mated with a woman," she explained, "but from Saturday morning, too, when you refused my wishes and asserted yourself over me." Sighing, she continued, "I knew the day would come; I just didn't expect it so soon. And I never could have imagined this." She made a circle with her finger, indicating the bed--the mating.

I nodded and reached out to her, and she gave me her hand. "How is your back?" I asked.

She shook her head. "Fine," she said. "Well--not fine. Still painful and itchy, but slowly getting better."

"Can I--?"

"No, sugar. Not now. Please listen."

I waited.

"I fear I've opened a door," she related softly. "A door that ought to have remained closed. You see, I know what comes next."

"What do you mean 'comes next'?"

"In truth, it's already started."

"Mom, what?"

"Your father explained it to me years and years ago. You were just a newborn. I can't remember the exact circumstances, but your daddy had you, and you were upset and crying. I heard you, and I came in and took you from Buck. In no time, I had you calmed down and soothed. It made your daddy feel a bit hopeless about being a good father. He asked how I knew what to do to help you, and I told him carrying and birthing a child had triggered some things inside me--instincts."

I wasn't sure where this was going, but I played along. "Yeah?"

"Buck got real thoughtful then, and he told me he never felt any father instincts kick into gear but that he knew what I meant about things inside triggering," Mom explained. "I asked him how, and he said he didn't know it at the time, but after our first time mating, things deep inside him awakened. He said he felt stronger and more confident. He said he grew more protective of me than ever before. He told me he had the urge to bring me things--give me gifts and such, and most of all that he needed to mate with me as much as his body would allow."

It was strangely erotic, lying naked beside the woman who bore me and knowing that my pop had lost his virginity to her just like me. Here, I thought, lay the woman who sparked both of our fiercest desires.

Mom went on. "Your father told me that maybe sex is even more powerful than we can imagine or understand. Here is this part of our lives, he explained, that's been in our DNA for hundreds of millions of years. Who knows what chemicals or hormones in the brain it can change?"

"So," I said, "you think this has changed me?"

"I know it has. I know Buck was right. What he said that day was like rain on snow. What had been hidden underneath became perfectly visible. Mating had changed him deeply, and this is what I'm talking about. You are not the same person, not since--well, not since you put your penis in my fanny and injected my body with your semen."

I recognized the truth of it right there beside her in bed. I did feel different. Despite this profound realization, a part of me didn't care. A part of me wanted to listen to her talk about sex because it was thrillingly erotic. I felt myself beginning to stir down there, to grow.

"Now," Mom said, "it wouldn't be too much of a problem if I were some young lady-friend of yours. But, I am your mother. The door I've opened--the instincts and changes I've fueled in you--are directed at me. With your new confidence, you've taken charge of me--your mother. You've run errands, done chores, and brought special foods and gifts for your mother. You probably are feeling or beginning to feel fiercely protective of me, and not just because I am your mother, but because you see me as your woman, your mate, and lover. And finally, you have to see how your sexual desires have grown--your semen has twice been deposited in my anus, and I've swallowed it down, and now it's filled up my special place."

While she spoke, I swallowed a lump in my throat. Her voice and words were making me irresistibly erect. My eyes sought out her bottom. They returned to her beautiful face, and I needed her badly.