Mom Son Wild Sex Story
31-07-2014, 05:14 PM
"What do they want?" Mom asked, automatically holding her arms out from her sides to make it easier for me to strip off the long-sleeved blouse.
I got it off one hand but it hung up on the other. I ignored it and grasped her breasts in both hands.
"I told you these, I mean they, would sell."
Mom was oblivious to my caressing hands.
"When do they need it?"
"When you're done. It's at your discretion."
"I can't believe it."
"You're a Sculptress, Mom. You've really done it."
"With you're help. You're the one that made it happen."
Mom threw her hands around my neck and hugged me hard, almost dislodging my hands but I managed to retain my grip.
"You wonderful, wonderful boy. You've given me a new career."
Mom kissed me, full on the mouth.
I was stunned. So stunned, I forgot her tits and actually let them go. Mom was giddy with laughter. I slipped my hands around her shoulders and kissed her back. We broke apart and laughed together. My arms slid down to the small of her back and I kissed her again. The laugh between was short-lived. Mom's arms tightened around my neck and we kissed again. This time, Mom really kissed me, her lips mashing against mine for several long seconds before her tongue slipped into my mouth. I moved my hands around to her front to reclaim her tits, sucking her tongue deeper into my mouth. Mine dueled with hers and finally pushed it back until it retreated to its home, closely chased my mine invading her own mouth. We were gasping for air when we finished. Mom's hands slid from my shoulders and she stepped back.
"Whew," Mom sighed. "I guess we got a little carried away."
"We had a good excuse," I panted.
"I suppose. I guess artists sometimes let their emotions get the better of themselves," Mom responded, turning away, pulling the blouse off her wrist and tossing it onto a chair. "We'd better finish our breakfast, we've got painting and sculpting to do."
As we finished breakfast, I filled Mom in on the email exchange. I could see her mind drifting off to plan the new sculptures as I spoke. As I suspected, the money, fantastic as is was, was secondary to the fact that someone wanted her work. As her mind toiled, I could have slapped myself to see if I was really awake and not dreaming. I mean, I was sitting at the breakfast table with my sexy mother, dressed in a skirt with her breasts nonchalantly on full display without a hint of discomfort on her part.
We walked together into the yard but Mom stopped in the middle of the grass.
"I guess you better paint me," she said, indicating with her flapping hand that I should fetch the paint.
I returned quickly to find Mom still standing where I had left her. When she saw me, she smiled and reached down and slid the zipper down the side of her hip, then kinked it up and back, letting the skirt fall of its own accord. Mom kicked it away several feet, then turned around and kneeled on the grass wearing only her panties. I went to her and sank to my knees behind her.
"I guess you'd better paint all of me," she instructed in a rather throaty voice.
I splashed the paint on Mom's back and spread it around, covering her arms and shoulders and even the back of her thighs and her calves. When I reached around to do her front, and Mom didn't object, I concentrated on her breasts, kneading and stroking them for long minutes, massaging and flicking her nipples, once even tugging them up until they dropped from the weight of their fleshy substrate.
The two pieces Mom had done the day before were really superb and I really thought it was due to the paint making the contours of her body more apparent to her as she worked. After all, she had worked quickly with the briefest of glances at her body in the mirror, but I had now changed my mind. I now believed the superior work was due to Mom's state of arousal and I was going to make sure she was aroused for this first commissioned piece of work. I think Mom was aware of it too, at least at some level, when I thought about the strength of her conviction that it was me that had made it happen. I had thought she was referring to the website but now I think she was voicing her own conviction and she, more than anyone, should know what was driving her.
I dipped my hand in the paint bucket and, with my left lightly stroking Mom's throat, I splashed the right on her belly, moving the paint slowly around in an ever widening circle. Again, I dipped my hand and spread the paint everywhere, even onto Mom's panties. Dipping my hand in again, I dropped it onto Mom's thighs which parted to give me access to the inside of her legs. My lips dropped onto Mom's neck and I nibbled the crook as my hand languidly pushed the paint deep between her legs, scraping her panties on each upstroke.
I looked at Mom's eyes and was pleased to see they were shut, a wanton expression covering her face. Dipping my hand again, I surprised her by rubbing it onto her bottom, covering her cheeks and the panties. She slumped back against me so I curled my left arm around her torso beneath her breasts to pull her up on her knees. I dipped my hand again and applied a liberal quantity of paint to Mom's bottom again, this time working it between her legs from behind. I wasn't shy about rubbing my hand up her center, letting my fingers push into the crevice dividing her cheeks. The next handful went directly on the front of Mom's panties and my mouth covered her ear, the tip of my tongue swirling slowly around its rim, then tasting the center. When the first low moan escaped Mom's lips, I pushed her forward onto the grass.
Mom lay still where she had landed. My eyes drinking in her painted body. It was a surreal, extremely erotic sight. I leaned forward and pushed the back of her right knee, moving it up until her leg was bent at almost ninety degrees. Observing her position critically, I moved her left leg up too but not as much. After a brief pause, I pulled on Mom's right shoulder until her upper body was almost perpendicular to the grass. Gently, I pried her face up so it looked like she was trying to look back, waiting expectantly for someone behind her, except her eyes were closed. Almost satisfied, but not quite. I adjusted Mom's hips so they tilted forward slightly but her ass pushed up and back. For the final touch, I moved Mom's knees together and aligned her lower legs so they matched, one on the other, with one foot curling over the other.
Perfect. A woman waiting expectantly for her lover. Apprehensive, yet offering him everything, from behind.
I laid down behind Mom, snuggling up to her and fitting myself around her body, the lump in my shorts just barely touching the triangle below her painted panties. As I leaned over to whisper in her ear, my bulge pressed into that sacred spot.
"You've got work to do," I whispered thickly into her wet ear.
I stood and dragged Mom to her feet.
I kept my distance, quietly watching Mom as she worked feverishly for the next few hours. She worked right through lunch, though I set a plate of fresh fruits and vegetables nearby. She finished the first statue, lying on its side, twisting up to look at the sky, the pert upper breast leaping from its chest as if it wanted to launch itself up to meet the target of its gaze. The second was finished in the middle of the afternoon. It, too, was lying on its side, though turned down toward the earth, it's prominent, naked bottom pushing up as if unashamed of the heathen triangle it blatantly offered.
When she was done, Mom looked vacantly about, almost immediately noticing the food. She devoured it ravenously, the speed with which she ate forcing juice from the oranges and tomatoes spilling over her chin. She didn't drink until the food was gone and then she gulped it down in one go. Then, she slumped in her seat before getting up and tottering like an old woman. I stepped quickly forward and grabbed her, fearing that she was about to fall. I carried her in my arms, upstairs, to the bathroom and the shower. There, I pulled the panties down and, God help me, kissed each bare cheek as I pushed the panties down her legs and off her feet.
As she stood in the shower, leaning against the wall, letting the water run over her back, I undressed... completely. Mom was watching me with listless eyes but they still tracked my underwear being dragged down to my feet and off... then rose to follow the spring of my cock. I stepped into the shower behind her, soap in one hand and a washcloth in the other. I set to work, wiping away the paint and the stress.
I cleaned her well and massaged her body as I went, interested more in relaxing than caressing. Yes, I took liberty in touching every part of her body but I didn't try to rub my hard cock on her though my tip did accidently bump into her bum several times. I don't know how but I resisted the urge to push it between her legs. She was susceptible and I didn't want to take advantage. I let her know that I loved her in the tender way I touched her, that I was fascinated with her beauty in body and soul, but most of all, just that I loved her.
We didn't say a word to my father about the emails or the new sculptures.
Mom didn't come downstairs again that night either. Perhaps the day's events had taken too great a toll.
I was up early again the next day, eager to see her. Mom wore a simple white blouse, braless again, and a dark, navy blue skirt with intricate designs sketched in thin white lines. The thin cotton skirt swirled about her legs as she walked but when she returned from waving goodbye to Dad it was her blouse that attracted my attention. It was fully buttoned and Mom didn't give any indication that she was going to unbutton it as she walked unsmiling toward me and stopped in front of my chair.
I can't describe the thrill that spread through my chest when, once there, a smile appeared and Mom started to undo her blouse. Slowly, very slowly. I didn't say a word as I craned my neck to see and neither did she. The white blouse was dropped carelessly and my eyes followed it to the floor despite the fact that Mom wasn't wearing a bra. Her fingers were already sliding the zipper down on the navy blue skirt and my attention focused there, intent on the bare skin being exposed as Mom slowly lowered it over her hips. The depression between hipbone and tummy was revealed only to be hidden by the unfortunate appearance of panties but, as the skirt continued its fall, Mom's flesh, in the form of soft, white thighs, reappeared. The skirt passed her knees and Mom stepped carefully out of it before dropping it onto the blouse. Two pieces of clothing. Only white panties were left. Mom leaned over me to brace her hands against the wall behind my head.
31-07-2014, 05:15 PM
"I don't want to get paint on these. I had to throw the black ones out yesterday."
Mom waited, still smiling, but didn't say anything more. Her words sank in and I reached out with both hands to tug the panties down her hips. They caught briefly on the jutting swells of her behind, then snapped down to the base of her ass and the thickness of her thighs. Her pussy was bare, a neatly trimmed slot barely covering the puffy lips. I savored its musky aroma. Slowly, I tugged the panties further, in no hurry, leaning closer to Mom the farther I pushed them down her legs. When they were near her feet, my face was so close I could have stuck out my tongue and tasted her. Mom stepped out of the panties and I dropped them where they were on the floor.
"Come," Mom whispered. "We've got work to do."
She pulled me up by my hand and turned to lead me outside. I stumbled trying not to step on her panties. What would Dad think if he came home to find Mom's clothes strewn around the kitchen, especially her panties? Halfway across the yard, just as she had the day before, Mom stopped and pulled me even with her, then pushed on my back to urge me ahead.
"Go get the paint," she said.
I turned back to Mom and folded my arms around her naked body.
"We don't need the paint."
I leaned down to plant a kiss in the crook of her neck.
"No," she whispered.
I stiffened, then pulled back and looked into her eyes.
"I guess you're right, we don't," she said and stretched up to kiss me on my mouth.
I pulled her to me and mashed my lips on hers, slowly slipping my tongue into her mouth. My hands roamed down Mom's back and onto her gently sloping buttocks, curling around her bottom and squeezing her delicious buns. The kiss was intense and when we stopped twisting our faces to catch our breath, I had pulled Mom hard against the fullness of my swollen private parts. I realized what I had done and was about to pull away when Mom's mouth sought mine again, her tongue pushing thickly into me. I responded to its demand, kissing her hard and wrapping my arms tightly around her. Her pelvis thrust against mine and I ground my cock into its yielding flesh, forcing it into a rotational movement that continued until we parted again to breathe.
"No," Mom said. "We certainly don't need the paint." She stepped back, out of breath, but didn't turn away. My eyes moved down from her flushed face to her heaving chest and quivering nipples, then below to her pubic hair which was pulsing with excitement. I noticed that the front of my shorts were bursting with my own excitement and dropped my hands in front as I quickly looked up to see if Mom had seen. She had. I caught her just as she averted her eyes.
"Don't interrupt me today," she said, her breathing barely allowing the words to get out. "I want to know you're waiting, and that I can't see you until I'm done."
It was one of the most difficult things I ever did, watching Mom walk naked away from me. She worked for hours and hours. It was late afternoon when she finished. I stepped hesitantly up to the door just as she was covering her new work with the tarp. Her look kept me from entering so I waited, patiently, until she joined me at the door.
"Your father will be here any minute. It's a good thing we didn't use the paint," she said.
"Yes, good thing," I agreed, though I didn't really agree at all. I had been waiting all day to have our shower and it hadn't dawned on me once that it needn't happen if we didn't use the paint.
That night, I prepared a comforting environment for Mom after she and Dad retired for the night, just in case she did come downstairs unlike the previous two nights. After sitting alone for over two hours, I was about to give up and go to bed when I heard the soft click of a door being carefully closed upstairs. I craned my neck, turning my ear toward the stairs but I saw her before I detected the soft fall of her footsteps. She descended the stairs slowly, dressed like she had been every other night in a tightly cinched robe. Her eyes said it all as she stepped into the living room.
"Hi sweetheart. I couldn't sleep... Oh Ben, this is so lovely. Thank you so much."
Mom's eyes danced with the reflection of the candles I had placed all over the living room, on the window sill, the tables, and even on the floor. Her nostrils flared as she breathed in deep, inhaling the aroma of their scented oils.
"Gosh, it's a bit overwhelming... almost too much."
Her steps faltered and I leapt to my feet, crossing the floor to steady her.
"Sit here," I guided Mom to the couch, first sitting down myself against the pillows piled up at one end, one leg stretched across the cushions, then pulled her down with her back toward me. Mom wiggled her back, nestling comfortably against my chest.
"I couldn't sleep," she continued where she had left off. "I didn't want to wake Dad so I got up."
"Mmhmmmm," I nodded, though she couldn't see my head behind her.
"I keep thinking about their request," Mom referred to the couple whose commission pieces she had worked so hard to do the past couple of days. "I hope they like them."
"I'm sure they will," I said, confidently, kissing Mom's hair.
"I don't know. Their instructions leave so much latitude: statues of a woman lying down and of a man sitting, watching her; statues of the two of them lying down together; and to make the woman older than the man, much older."
"I know, it's strange."
"Yes. Usually it's the man with a wife much too young for him but a woman with a much younger man but I'm sure it happens. They sound like they're wealthy." Mom paused, then added, "It's probably her money."
"Yes, probably," I murmured, kissing Mom's neck inside the collar of her robe.
"It's just that I can't decide what to do next. That's why I can't sleep."
"Relax. You'll think of something."
By the sound of Mom's sigh, she wasn't as sure as I about that. My fingers found the belt securing her robe and began toying with it in a lackadaisical fashion, tugging its ends and slowly pulling the knot undone. Mom shifted left to bring her right leg up onto the couch too. I continued playing until the knot pulled free. Mom seemed to be deep in thought and unaware of my activity. Slowly, not because I was afraid she would stop me but rather because I didn't want to disturb her, I pulled Mom's robe apart until I had an unobstructed view down the front of her body, covered by the nightgown until just below her knees. Her feet were bare; she had kicked off her slippers.
As Mom pondered what to do the next day, I untangled the laces connecting her nightgown with discretion similar to that I had applied to dismantling the robe. After quite a few minutes, I had succeeded in unfettering Mom's breasts and taken them gently into my hands. For the next half an hour, I nuzzled Mom's neck and massaged her breasts, occasionally letting my hands stray down her belly inside the nightgown to stroke her soft skin. I was surprised when I encountered the upper traces of her pubic hair but I didn't venture into it.
I didn't want to disturb Mom's thoughts as I was sure she was well into the creative process. Nevertheless, I could not stop my cock from swelling more at the thought of Mom's bare pelvis. Had she purposely removed her panties before coming downstairs or was it just a coincidence? Her pussy was bare just inches below my trembling fingers. I hoped my hard cock, now pressing into the small of her back, didn't intrude rudely into her thoughts but there was little I could do about that. Hoping to alleviate the situation, I returned my hands to Mom's breasts. Mere seconds later my fingers surrounded her nipples, gently tugging and tweaking them into full extension. I would have stopped when I became aware of what I was doing were it not for Mom's contented sigh and the feel of her body relaxing against mine. What I was doing must be helping her generate creative thoughts.
Several minutes later, Mom pulled up her knees, pushing her back more forcefully into my erection. Incredible as it sounds, my hands tired of manipulating Mom's breasts. Again, they descended her body but this time stayed on top of her nightgown, stopping on her hips. My fingers stretched out and retracted, pulling the nightgown back. I repeated this several times until the hem was dragged up and over Mom's raised knees. A few more clenches and the hem started an inexorable descent down the top of Mom's thighs until it was bunched up on her belly. As soon as that happened, Mom lowered her legs until they were once again stretched out straight on the couch.
I returned my hands to her breasts but after several minutes reviving her stiff nipples let them stray down to Mom's waist. There, my fingers began kneading her sides and, as a side-effect, rolling the nightgown up under Mom's breasts. She was very quiet but I could feel her breath shortening and knew she was excited by either her thoughts or what I was doing. So was I! My boner was so ragingly hard I worried that I might damage her spine if I moved suddenly. I moved my head, stretching it up slightly so I could get a better view past Mom's breasts. I was pleasantly surprised when she adjusted her head to accommodate me, or was that just accidental?
The last of the nightgown was now sliding up over Mom's pouting tummy, revealing the tuft of pubic hair covering her mound, a slash of white to either side where the sun never reached when she tanned in the back yard. When the nightgown was completely rolled up, Mom pulled her legs up again, her rising knees held tightly together. Was she feeling self-conscious? Was she going to cover up?
Mom turned her head sideways toward the back of the couch. Maybe she was embarrassed that she'd let me expose her this way. Her head rubbed into the hollow under my left shoulder as if scratching an itch in her ear, then was still. A few seconds later, Mom's knees parted, then stopped when the gap was only two inches wide. Haltingly, her knees continued to give way, stopping and starting, again and again, until they were more than two feet apart. I raised my hand to press Mom's hair against the back of her head to clear the line of sight between my eyes and her bare pussy, now pulled slightly apart.
I could see a slight furrow through the slot of pubic hair. She was trembling down there. Why? Was she ashamed? If so, why didn't she close her legs? Or maybe she was quivering in anticipation, or from the feel of my eyes' caress?
I didn't know. What I did know was that I wanted to be closer to that tantalizing tuft of hair. I returned my hand to Mom's hip and moved both of them closer to the center, stopping in the shallow groove just inside her hipbones. Stretching my fingers toward each other, I set them down on Mom's soft pelvic flesh just short of that wondrous strip of hair, pressed in, and pulled.
What a fantastic revelation! The furrow widened and a moist, pink slit appeared at the bottom of the trench. I had seen Mom's pussy this morning when she let me pull her panties down but this, this was my first ever view of her cunt. My cock throbbed into her back. Oh God, don't come, don't come. I groaned out loud with the effort, willing my cock to stop.
The moment passed and I sighed with relief. I rubbed my fingers up and down at the sides of Mom's pussy, then pushed them together and pulled them apart.
"Ohhhhhh," Mom released a quiet sigh.
I kept manipulating the flesh at the sides of Mom's pussy, alternately hiding and revealing that pink slit and causing Mom to sigh again and again, more frequently as the pinkness moistened. When her sighs were almost constant, I moved my hands closer together. Now, when they reached toward each other, they met on top of that beckoning furrow and descended together into the pinkness, prying it apart, tenderly, lovingly. Up and down, my fingertips stroked as Mom's sighs were converted into soft moans.
31-07-2014, 05:15 PM
When the moans because groans, I began openly thrusting my hardness into Mom's back, at first slowly but then with more and more vigor. In my passion, I forgot to be tender and felt the fingers of my right hand push inside Mom, between her pussy lips, inserting themselves in her cunt, which immediately shoved itself more firmly upward until my digits were completely ensconced. My left hand moved instinctively to the top of Mom's pussy and was hotly welcomed there. I was bucking frantically against her back now, no longer afraid of a messy release. In fact, needing it desperately. When it came, filling my shorts with hot, sticky goo, Mom's hands covered mine, pressing them tight as she shuddered to her own release.
We were still. The candlelight flickered in the night as we became once more aware of our surroundings. I pushed Mom's nightgown down over her belly until it was piled up, covering her. Mom's hands took over, pushing it up and over her knees which were now closed demurely together. Her legs lowered and Mom sat up, twisting to put her feet on the floor. She gathered her robe about her and tugged it in to her waist, threading the belt into a bow and pulling it tight into a knot. She found her slippers and slipped her feet into them, then turned and looked down at me.
"Thanks," she said, patting my chest. She didn't look down at my still bulging shorts or the spreading wetness there. "I think I know what I'm going to do now.
Mom got up and quietly walked away.
Mom was already out in the studio working when I got up the next morning. Dad was gone. After breakfast, I returned to my room instead of disturbing her, deciding instead to work on the website and check for emails. There were several queries which I answered. I made a lunch and took it out to the studio. Mom had just finished a piece and covered it up so we ate together. I glanced curiously several times at the tarp, wondering what was underneath. Mom noticed.
"Be patient," she said. "I'll show you when I'm ready."
"Do you need some support before you go back to work?"
"Support?" she asked. My eagerness for her response must have answered her query because she smiled softly as if trying to let me down gently, "No, I know exactly what I want to do."
I must have looked devastated because Mom immediately added, "But I'm not sure what to do for tomorrow. Perhaps we can do a little more mentoring tonight?"
"Yeah, Mom. Whatever you want. I'm happy to help out any way I can."
"You a bigger help than you know."
Mom turned back to work and, as she did, her eyes flitted across my shorts. I looked down to see a huge boner that, until then, I had been completely unaware of. I blushed and looked at Mom, ready to say something, to apologize or whatever, but she was already working. Quietly, I slipped outside and disappeared into the house.
It was late, much later than the night before, when Mom appeared on the stairs. She was standing still, as if she was waiting for me to notice her before she made her descent. She was dressed in the same robe. Her eyes sparkled as she neared the candlelight. I thought it odd that I could notice her eyes at the same time I registered the way her body pressed against the robe as she walked and noticed how silently her bare feet carried her across the carpet.
Her steps didn't falter tonight. She strode confidently toward me, motioning for me to lie back against the pillows. When she was next to me, she pulled two of them out and pressed me back until I was almost prone. Then she undid the belt on her robe but held it together with one hand as she lifted one knee over me and set it down between my leg and the back of the couch. As she lay down on top of me, her robe fell open and her breasts dangled down. Mom was naked!
Mom wriggled on top of me, getting comfortable. When she was finally still, her head was on my shoulder and her face was buried in my neck.
"Will you tickle me while I think?" she asked.
"Tickle you?" I asked.
"Yes. You know what I mean. Start with my back."
I placed my hands on Mom's back and started stroking it.
"Underneath," she murmured. "On my skin."
"Oh," I said.
I pulled at Mom's robe but had trouble baring more than a few inches below her neck. Pulling it up from her front, squeezed between us, I peeled it away from her shoulders until her back was bare and the robe was piled on top of her buttocks. I started from there, in the small of her back, using long strokes up her sides and down her spine.
"Mmmmmmm, like that," Mom purred.
I stroked and caressed Mom forever, my fingertips dancing lightly with the barest of touch at times and then rubbing firmly with the sole of my knuckles and even pressing in with my palms. I scraped along the side of her breasts but I didn't try to reach underneath to hold them. I was familiar with them now and didn't want to relieve the pressure of her body along mine, it felt so good. At some point, I pulled the rest of the robe up from Mom's sides and pushed it off her bottom until it fell on the floor. Now, my strokes traced the length of her back and more, tasting the full range of her buttocks.
I gravitated more and more onto Mom's ass, plying it with my eager fingers, exploring every curve, every cranny, and the full extent of her jutting cheeks. When my fingers tracked near her hidden valley, Mom's pelvis pressed down more firmly against my own. Soon, my fingers were plying that forbidden canyon, pulling her cheeks apart to make the entrance wider. My right hand stretched in search of the moist crevice I had explored the night before but I couldn't quite reach it. Mom shifted on top of me, moving up until her head flopped over my shoulder and my straining fingers found her delicious slit.
So inviting, so wet! My fingertips slid easily inside.
"Ohhhhhhh," Mom moaned in my ear, her lips pressing against the side of my head and encircling the edge of my ear just as her tongue pressed inside.
I pushed my fingers in deep. Mom scrunched hard into my cock and moaned in my ear, then lifted her ass back to shove my fingers deeper inside her. I started fingering her and running my other hand up and down her ass. Mom's hip began to rotate, dry humping my cock and fucking my fingers. The fingertips of my left hand found and pressed on her anus. Mom's tongue shoved hard into my ear, swirling wetly, then broke away. Her head lifted up and the next thing I knew her mouth was covering mine and her tongue was reaching for my throat. I slipped my fingertip into her asshole.
Immediately, Mom started bucking on my cock and her hands shoved under my back, grabbing my shorts and pushing them down. She was like a woman possessed, desperate to get at me, desperate to find relief. I strained to lift us both. The effort was worth it when my shorts suddenly shot down over my hips and ass, scraping over my cock until the waistband was caught by my balls. One hard jerk later, and my balls were pressing against Mom's moist pussy.
Feverishly, Mom's hand found my cock. She didn't hesitate for an instant. She rose up until her head was hanging above mine and, looking down, she guided my cock to her entrance, slowed to carefully insert its tip, then just as slowly sank down my rigid shaft, mewling a strange animal-like sound until her mound found my root. The fucking started right away. Mom leaned over me, huffing and puffing while her cunt gripped my cock, chewing up and down its length like a starving cow deprived of its cud. All I could do was lay underneath and groan my pleasure. Each time I thrust up, I was immediately smashed down. Mom was fucking my ass off and all I could do was grab her hips and hang on.
I came hard but was dwarfed by Mom's silent yet thundering explosion which drenched my balls. She didn't stop right away. Rather, she continued fucking my cock, though ever slower and slower, until finally, she collapsed on my chest, hands running through my hair and kissing my forehead. After a long time, Mom pulled away and stood beside the couch. She let me look at her heaving breasts and trembling, wet pussy, only slowly pulling her robe closed and belting it up. She touched her fingers to her lips and then pressed it to my forehead. About to turn away, she repeated the touch to her lips and then touched the tip of my worn out cock, now flopped over my stomach. She giggled, a mischievous glint in her eye, and turned away.
31-07-2014, 05:15 PM
The next morning, while Dad drank his coffee and I ate my breakfast, Mom washed some apples in the sink. Dad's nose was poked into the morning newspaper which was fortunate given the outrageous act Mom performed. She reached under her skirt and pulled her panties down to her knees, then continued scrubbing the apples as if everything was normal. She wiggled her legs until the panties had fallen to her ankles, then kicked the flip flops off her feet and stepped out of them. Bending over to pick them up, she smiled at me and calmly opened the cupboard under the sink and deposited them in the garbage. Mom returned to scrubbing the apples as if nothing had happened.
When Mom returned from waving goodbye to Dad, she didn't stop in front of me as I had expected. Instead, she walked right past me and out into the yard. By the time I got up and to the door, she was already stopped in the middle. She dropped to her knees and then flopped forward. Turning onto her side, she twisted her pelvis forward and drew her legs up until her legs were bent, striking the pose I had placed her in the last time I had painted her.
I strode toward Mom and stopped, looking down at her. She turned away without looking at me and stretched her hands out on the grass. As quietly as I could, I opened my jeans and pushed them down my legs. As I stepped out of them, I hoped Dad hadn't forgotten anything. On my knees, I crawled up behind Mom and flipped her skirt up over her ass. Quickly, I ducked down, holding my hard boner to guide it into her magic triangle. The tip bumped against her soft flesh and followed the moistness to her entrance. I slipped easily inside, grasped Mom's hip, and slid home with a relieved grunt.
Immediately, I started fucking her with a steady, vigorous pace. I couldn't hold back, I needed to do her. I straddled her thighs and she pushed her ass up to help my cock find its easiest path. I held Mom by the waist and stepped up the pace, lunging harder and harder without any finesse, just a long hard, fast fuck. I was grunting and wheezing and almost yelling obscenities when I unloaded my balls. Gasping, I fell on Mom's back. Eventually, I managed to speak.
"I"m sorry, Mom. I couldn't stop. I meant to leave you... tense, so you could work."
"Shhhhh," Mom twisted around and I pushed myself up to let her turn. "I need serenity for the next piece and this is just what I need, at least for a start."
Mom reached down to grasp my sticky, softening cock, immediately arresting its decline.
"Now, make love to me, and take your time."
As Mom held my cock, I rained kisses upon her. She directed my mouth and my hands for a while, then quit, evidently satisfied with where I put them and what I did. It was a long session but I'm proud to say that I managed to bring Mom to an intense orgasm. After a minute or two of rest, Mom got up and walked to the studio. I flopped onto my back and watched her go. I lay on the grass for a long time, listening to her work before eventually getting up and going into the house.
They were here, at the door; the couple that commissioned all the work. The man was in his early forties and the woman was at least twenty years older, maybe more. They were elegantly dressed and a long, black limo was parked in the driveway, the driver standing respectfully by the rear door. The man spoke.
"Hello, I'm Nick and this his Gwen. We've come to see the pieces, if they're ready."
"Oh. I'm... uh... I'm not sure they are. I wish you'd let me know you were coming. I'll uh, have to check with my mother."
"Ben," Mom's voice came from behind me. "Please let them in."
Mom greeted the couple, assuring them that their surprise visit was welcome and they could see the pieces any time. Would they like some tea first? I was shocked, given Mom's earlier expressed aversion at meeting potential patrons, yet she was clearly keen to meet this couple and already seemed to be comfortable with them. They declined the tea and expressed their eagerness to see Mom's work as soon as possible.
"Well then, right this way, Nick," I said, my arm indicating the way through the kitchen and out the glass doors into the back yard. "I'm sure you and your wife will be very pleased. Mom has worked very hard and has completed several large sculptures."
There was an awkward silence. Even Mom was looking at me as if I'd made a huge faux pas.
"Actually, Gwen is my mother."
"Oh, I'm terribly sorry," I stammered.
"That's ok," Nick said. "How could you know?"
Gwen spoke for the first time, looking at Mom. "But, of course, you knew, didn't you?"
Mom nodded, holding Gwen's gaze.
To make a long story short, Gwen and Nick were thrilled. They bought all the pieces, leaving us with a hundred thousand dollars in cash with a promise to make arrangement to have the sculptures picked up. The real shocker was when Gwen turned around to speak to Mom at the front door as they were leaving.
"I would truly appreciate it if you could find it in your heart to do at least one more piece to complete the set," she said.
"Of course," Mom said. "You have been more than generous."
"Not as generous as you've been with your talent and your passion," Gwen replied. "Please allow us to reward you for the magnificent gift you have bestowed upon us."
"If you insist, but it isn't necessary," Mom said.
Gwen interrupted her son. "Shhh, Nick. This is a matter for mothers." She turned to Mom. "I would be truly grateful if you would accept the same amount for the final piece."
"It would be a honor to do it for you."
After they had gone, I asked Mom about the final pieces.
"What is it she wants? She didn't say anything about it."
"She didn't need to," Mom said. "I already know."
"What is it?"
"I'll let you know when the time comes."
Mom worked for several days without any assistance from me. I was cut off. The first day and evening, I tried everything I could to bring my plight to Mom's attention but she ignored every hint, no matter how plain. On noon of the fourth day, however, things changed. Unfortunately, it was a Saturday and there was no way I could take advantage of Mom's renewed attention.
I thought it cruel of Mom to tease me the way she did. She flitted around near me sending signals that made my dormant cock sore. She wasn't brazen. Dad's presence prevented that, but she managed to let me know she was interested in seeking my moral support again. A smile here, a flash of her eyes there, an unnecessary twist of her torso to emphasize the jut of her breast, the fall of her skirt from her knee baring the underside of a curved thigh and, late in the afternoon, the incessant tap of her bare foot as it dangled her flip flop from a painted toe. Oh, I got the message all right, or at least I thought I did.
After dinner, Mom pulled me aside as I headed for the living room.
"I don't want you lighting candles anymore. Your father asked this morning why the house reeks of incense."
I had been burning the candles every night waiting in vain for Mom to show. I was immediately depressed. I guess I had misread the signals. Mom was ending our affair and her way of letting me know was to tell me so stop burning the candles. Perhaps she had no further need of my particular brand of inspiration.
I sat in the dark that night, waiting. Finally, at two in the morning, I got up and carefully made my way through the dark to the stairs. Mom startled me. She was sitting on the steps half way up.
"Mom?" I whispered.
"Be quiet," she snapped.
"How long have you..."
Mom stood and started down the steps, grasping my hand as she passed by me. I turned to follow. We threaded our way easily through the kitchen, the light of the moon shining through the glass doors. Mom pulled the door open, taking great care to make as little sound as possible. It was only then that I realized she was naked. She turned around to face me.
"Take your clothes off," she whispered.
When I didn't react, Mom waved her hands impatiently. I yanked my t-shirt over my head and threw it on a kitchen chair, then quickly pushed my shorts down and off my bare feet. The moonlight glinted off my hardening rod as I moved toward Mom but she put her hands up to stop me.
I did as Mom said. The only part of me that moved was my stiff cock bouncing in the moonlight. I didn't have any idea what was going on but I knew it wasn't going to be bad.
"What do you think you're going to do with that?" Mom asked.
She didn't have to point. I knew what she was talking about.
"Nothing," I said, like a little kid getting caught with something he wasn't supposed to have.
"Did you think something was going to happen with your father right upstairs wondering why his house smells like incense every morning?"
This was taking a bad turn.
"I should think not. Now, follow me but be very quiet. Your father hasn't been sleeping very well the past few nights."
Mom turned and walked out into the yard toward the studio. Was she going to show me what she'd been doing the last few days? Couldn't she wait until Monday?
I bumped into her back when she suddenly stopped in the middle of the grass. Mom gave me a stern look and glanced up at the dark bedroom window behind me. I turned to look. It was wide open, covered only by the screen.
"Be very quiet, Ben. We're going to do something very special tonight but you'll have to control yourself. Are you in?"
"Good. Get down on your knees."
I knelt before Mom. She came closer, and closer, until her trimmed bush tickled my face. I pressed my nose against her belly and let my tongue slip past my lips, curling up into her furrow to taste hers. Mom's hands curved around my head and pressed my face against her with gentle pressure. Her hips rotated and she sighed as my tongue entered her pussy. A minute later, Mom was slipping and sliding steadily up and down my face, her fingers gripping my hair tightly. Except for the sound of her breathing there was only the rustle of the trees from the light breeze. I braced my hands on the back of Mom's thighs but she moved hers down to bat mine away without slowing her churning hips. A new sound entered my ears: Mom's wet pussy working around my stiff tongue. Abruptly, Mom's hips went into overdrive.
31-07-2014, 05:16 PM
"Oh... oh, oh, ohhh... uh huh, uh huh, uh huh... oh, yes... yeah, yeah, yesssss, yessss, yesssssssss."
Mom was not losing control. Her words were whispered and the intervening sighs muted.
Slowing, her hips were slowing, she was stepping back, falling to her knees, panting heavily, her hands covering her sex, arms closing in front, squeezing her boobs together, back arching, head falling back, looking at the sky.
"Yesssss, oh yessss."
Mom flopped forward. I sat back on my heels, cock wavering in front of me, still hard and ready to go. I waited patiently, sure that it would now be my turn. I turned to look back at the bedroom window, suddenly nervous. Mom hadn't been loud but if Dad was awake, could he have heard her? I couldn't see any movement or any sign of lightness that would indicate someone standing in the window.
I whipped my head around when Mom's lips covered my cock. She was sucking me, the fingers of one hand now circling my root while the other slipped down the underside of my shaft and onto my balls. I dropped my hands to the side of her head and thrust forward slightly, betraying my eagerness. Mom's mouth pulled off my cock and my hands were smacked roughly away.
Her mouth regained my helmet and slid down my shaft. I kept my hands to myself. Up and down, twisting, sucking, fingers squeezing and stroking, nails scratching, tongue rubbing, flicking my tip, swirling around it, mouth sucking, for so long... oh, so long. I moved my hands toward Mom's head but caught myself before I ruined everything. God, I wanted to hold her head, to fuck her face. Why was she teasing me so?
I pushed forward, afraid of the response but unable to hold back. No reaction, just Mom's mouth pushed more firmly over my shaft. I pushed forward again, gently, provoking a gargling sound as my cock pushed against the back of Mom's mouth, but still no recrimination. I moved my hips steadily, slowly at first, just a bit ahead and back, but fucking just the same. Fucking Mom's mouth! Fucking her face!
I moved so steadily it was hard to realize I was pushing forward in longer and longer strokes and moving faster and faster. The sucking sounds from Mom's mouth were louder now, as was the wet gargling sound, but I didn't turn around to see if they were being registered by anyone else but us. This was too good not to focus on it completely. Not a single neuron in my brain was willing to direct its attention elsewhere.
How could she take such long strokes in her mouth? Incredible. She was so wet, her mouth and my cock sloppy with saliva, making it so slick. So fucking good. Faster now, it wouldn't be long, my hands resting on the top of my thighs, slipping around underneath to help lift my cock into Mom's face. Oh, god, yeah.
Mom's hands on mine, pulling them away from my legs, toward her, onto her head, clasping them over her ears, letting go, leaving my hands in place, holding her head. I pulled Mom's face onto my cock, thrusting, holding in, pulling out, thrusting in, holding, oh god... I was coming, coming, coming, leaning over Mom's head, kissing her hair, keeping her mouth on my spurting cock, mumbling, "I love you, love you, love you."
I was still, chest heaving, gasping for air, cock slipping out, over Mom's lips, hands running down Mom's back to her ass, hugging her. Mom was pulling away, her back straightening. I did too. She reached out and took my flaccid cock in her hand and began stroking it. Nothing happened for a minute or too, my manliness failing me, but then it struggled to rise, to once more venture into the breech. Mom leaned over my valiant, half-hard erection and... drooled saliva all over it! She worked it in with her hands, then bent and drooled on it again, then again. Mom walked on her knees past me. I turned to follow but she stopped, hunched over, knees and calves together. She looked back at me.
"Ben," she whispered.
"Yes," I whispered back.
"You have to do this very quietly, understand?"
"Yes," I replied, though I wasn't sure what she was talking about.
"You'll have to keep me quiet too, understand?"
"Yes." Now I was really in the dark.
Mom turned her face to the ground, reached behind herself with both hands, and pulled her cheeks apart. Ahhhhh, now I understood. Was this what Gwen and Mom had secretly understood? Was there one more statue to make? I crabbed my knees forward, fitting in behind Mom, my cock now rapidly hardening to the consistency of a steel pike.
"Spit on it," Mom's voice instructed, though I couldn't see her face.
I bent over and spit on my cock.
"No, on me."
Oh. I redirected my face and drooled spittle over Mom's ass where I thought her asshole was. I used my finger to spread it around, searching for the little gateway. My finger slipped right into it. Had Mom prepared for this before she came downstairs? I had seen her anus before and it was a tight little pucker, not partly open like this. The thought added tungsten to my rod. Mom, laying in bed beside Dad with something in her ass, preparing it for her son. Oh God, I so wanted to fuck her there.
I brought my cockhead into contact with my left hand and slid it forward through my palm to the index finger, still embedded in Mom's little hole. Pulling it out, I replaced it with the most concentrated bundle of nerves in my body.
It was so tight. My cock bent with effort but was still denied entry.
"Push," Mom's whisper was strained.
I pushed forward but my cock simply bent even more. Using my hand, I kept it straight while I shoved forward again. There. Her ass was giving way. I think. I kept up the pressure. Yes, I was sure it was giving way. I wished it was a full moon so I could see better. Is it? Is it going in? Yes, there it is, but so tight... my god, shove. Yeah, oh yeah. Mom was groaning. I leaned forward and reached down with my left hand to find her face, slipped my hand under it to cover her mouth. Mom groaned and my palm vibrated with its slick tones.
I pulled my cockhead out and drooled on Mom's hole again. Even in the moonlight, I could see that it was bigger. Encouraged, I pressed my hardness in again. Mom's audible groan split the night. I lunged forward to cover her mouth but not before another groan escaped Mom's lips in response to my sudden move as my cock burst through the gate. I was in! My cock was in Mom's ass!
I let Mom accommodate to my girth before moving gently to and fro, a fraction of an inch in and back, then an inch. I kept doing this until the grunts vibrating my palm abated, replaced with the occasional murmur. I lengthened my strokes and within a few minutes I was fucking Mom's butt just like I would fuck her pussy. Mom's throat was behaving so I pulled my hand back and used both to hold her hips, pulling her ass back as I thrust forward.
Soon, it almost felt like a common experience, so I varied the speed and depth of my strokes, rewarded by Mom's reaction through her breathing, love whimpers, and soft moans. She seemed to like it when I suddenly thrust in hard and held it so I got up on my feet and straddled her ass, gouging my cock in as deep as I could, in long, slow twists. Oh yes, she loved that. And so did I! I humped her in a series of five or six lunges followed by a grinding pause, then repeated it all. This went on and on and on until I finally realized that we were both getting way to loud. I pushed forward and drove Mom flat on the grass, gripped her cheeks and began fucking her ass very hard.
I had to release one cheek to cover Mom's mouth again. I pulled her chin up to point her face toward the bedroom window where Dad was sleeping. Releasing the other cheek, I grasped Mom's hair and started on what I knew would be the final part of this ride, at least for me. I love that final run where you know you couldn't stop if you tried, that you'd come anyway, so you just go with it and the woman you're with knows it too and tries to match you so she can come with you. I could feel Mom doing that. I leaned forward to whisper encouragement in her ear, to tell her how much I loved her ass, and how much more I loved her.
We lay spent on the grass for ages. The first hints of dawn were evident when we finally dragged ourselves to our feet.
"Mom. What are you doing?"
Mom had pulled back my covers and was pulling me by the hand.
"Where's Dad?" I asked, my eyes frantically looking past Mom's nude body.
"He went out to see Eric. Come on. Get up."
I stumbled to my feet, still groggy from sleeping but relieved that Dad wasn't in the house.
"Where are we going?"
"To bed," Mom said. "I haven't made love in the morning for years and years."
"Mom, this is crazy."
However, my mind was already losing the battle to my cock as I followed Mom with faltering footsteps, my eyes running over her body. Did I mention that Mom had wonderful legs?
"Mom, Dad could come home any time."
"Don't worry about that."
I did. I worried about it until Mom flopped on her bed and turned onto her back, legs opening and arms beckoning.
We made love several times that day. All morning and into the middle of the afternoon. Long, tender, unhurried love-making, probably the best sex I have ever had. After one exhausting session, Mom pushed me up and slid down underneath me to take my cock into her mouth. She sucked and tickled my balls until I began thrusting into her mouth, the visions of filling it with my seed already bringing me to the brink of realease but before I lost complete control, Mom suddenly shifted up and plunged my turgid pole into her eager cunt. I was startled at how easily it swallowed my my cock, which felt larger than it had ever felt before, but my thoughts were soon lost as I arched my back to dig as far into her moist suction as I could get.
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