Dear Aunt Fanny

Thanks to Lady Falcon for her enthusiasm, ideas and corrections.

Dear Aunt Fanny

Thank you for the wonderful advice in your newspaper column. My girlfriend, Mary, and I regularly read it and we are always amazed at how wise and clever you are. We are both 18 and go to the local school together.

I have a problem that should be very simple to you. I look forward to your advice, and am convinced that you will know exactly what to do. Mary says so too.

I suspect that my problem might seem somewhat unusual, and so it is necessary to tell the story from the beginning. Please bear with me, the point will become clear soon enough.

Yesterday morning, after my dad had gone to work, I decided to go fishing. My dad keeps the fishing tackle in his room, and so I decided to sneak in there and borrow it while he was away. (My dad does not often give me permission to borrow his fishing rod). When I was convinced that the coast was clear, I quietly opened the door to his bedroom, and slipped in.

I congratulated myself on getting in without being noticed, and gently closed the door behind me. I turned around and had the fright of my life. There, in front of me, was my mom!

My heart was in my throat, and my mind went into overdrive thinking up excuses for why I should be in their bedroom on a school morning. However, all I could think was, "It is so unfair! Mom is supposed to be at work, and now she catches me playing hooky." It was only later that I found out that she had phoned work and reported sick.

I just stood still, and hoped that by some miracle I wouldn't be caught.

Only one thing saved me: Mom was lying on her side, her back towards me. I am sure she did not hear me come in because she lay perfectly relaxed. I froze, searching for an opportunity to make my escape, careful to avoid the slightest noise that might betray me.

I had no choice but to look at her. She was dressed in her nightie. I have seen her wear it before, of course, but this time it was pulled all the way up to her middle. I could not help noticing that my mom has a very sexy set of legs, and that there is absolutely nothing wrong with her ass either. No, I did not catch a view of what was between her legs: she was at the wrong angle.

For a moment I thought she was asleep. Relief flooded through me, and I made ready to flee before I was caught.

What she did next made me jump with surprise. Her hand, which had been resting on her side, moved across her thigh and down to her middle. The movement was so deliberate I did not have a moment's doubt about what she was doing.

My mind was in complete disarray. Here was the woman who had always symbolized everything that was homely, like apple pie, knitted scarves and washing dishes... with her fingers between her legs!

I confess I was so intrigued by this thought that I could not tear myself away from the astonishing scene. I could just see the tops of her hand gently moving forwards and backwards as it delicately played. It seemed to me that she was teasing her pussy as if to gently wake it.

I caught myself wondering if this was the first time she had done this; and why I had never before imagined her being sexy. I looked her over from her toes and up her long, sensual legs and past her butt. I feasted my eyes on her slim waist, and stopped at her long, dark hair. For some reason, I fixed my gaze on a wisp of hair in her neck that swayed in time with her hand, backward and forward.

Outside the sounds of the day continued as if everything was perfectly normal. How could things be ordinary on a day when such a dramatic thing was happening?

Perhaps this was all a dream. I blinked, but my mom was still there, obliviously continuing her self-pleasure. She had definitely increased the tempo slightly, and her hand had unquestionably moved further towards the center of attraction. It seemed that her pussy was giving the first stirrings of awareness.

I do not know how long I stood there, happy to let the world go where it would, drinking in the sight I had never before even thought to dream.

Suddenly she groaned softly, the first sound she had made since I had found her. I broke into a cold sweat, thinking that maybe she had discovered my presence. Once again my mind grappled with the question of how I could justify myself. Even worse, how I was going to pretend that I had not seen her in a most compromising position?

But no, the groan was one of pleasure, an expression of her body's response to its sexual stimulation. She moved her leg upward and outward, giving her finger more room. I imagined that her pussy had signaled that it was playful and needed more concentrated attention.

The wisp of hair on her neck moved more rapidly backward and forward, still mirroring the more intense motions of her hand. I judged that she was toying with her clitoris, and that sparks of delight were slowly being released from there to every part of her.

I shook my head in amazement. I wondered what it would be like if her friends could see her now. I tried to imagine her stuck up, staid friends from the bridge club being led into the room. No matter how I tried I could not think of how they would express their horror that a good, conservative woman should sink to this level. I thought of the people at the shop who had seen only her demure exterior, and never seen the sexy woman and her need. I almost smiled at the thought.

Her first groan was followed by another, and then another. This woman was really getting into the swing of things. She was releasing her sexual energy, heating the room and making it hard for me to breathe.

A horrible unwelcome realization suddenly hit me literally between the legs: I was responding to the sight. No, let's put it differently. My cock was rock hard! I tried silently telling it "Get down boy!" but it was hopeless. It had sensed a horny woman and was ready and eager to volunteer its assistance in meeting her need. My mind recoiled in horror: this was unthinkable! My own mother! But my cock did not seem to care.

Goggle-eyed I watched as her hand move quicker and quicker, her gasps became wilder, and her breathing became ragged. I could see ripples run along her skin up her back and down her legs as her fingers moved in a blur. Her legs scissored open and closed, rocking to the rhythm of her rutting finger. She was about to cum, and cum big.

My mind worked as it had never worked before. I finally understood that even my mom had sexual needs and desires, and that it is good and right. And if I can play with my cock when I am alone in my bed, then surely she can too.

And that was as far as I got: her gasps gave way to a shriek of absolute ecstasy. She rolled onto her back and pulled her nightie all the way up to her neck, fully revealing her ample breasts to my sight for the first time in my memory. Her right hand fondled one breast and nipple energetically and mercilessly.

I could not take my eyes off her beautiful nipples; they hypnotically bobbed up and down. The picture was so beautiful I wished that I could somehow complete their pleasure. Maybe I could touch them and enjoy their softness, or kiss them. At the same time I was sure that I could enjoy their beauty forever, just staring at their sweet dance.

Very soon, her raging body jerked upward, then left and right before stiffening. She thrust open her legs as wide as she could, lifting them high into the air. For a brief moment I caught sight of her pubic hair, partially covered by her hand and coated with her own juices.

And then a wave of calmness washed over her, the crisis over. Her hand fell to the side, clear of her satisfied pussy. Her sated legs seemed to unwind, and deliciously sought out the comfort of the sheets. Her feverish breathing slowed down almost instantly, to be replaced by a deep, slow intake of cool, refreshing air. Even her head moved forward as her neck relaxed.

Within moments, she was fast asleep.

Like a sleepwalker I went to my room, for some absurd reason still fixated with the importance of moving as soundlessly as humanly possible. It was only when I was on my bed that I realized my mom was as senseless as it is possible to be while breathing. That it would be easy to get the fishing tackle now.

But that did not matter: I had my own climax to attend to. Within moments the picture in my mind of my sexy mom in the throes of sexual abandonment was enough to spark such a huge explosion I do not know how I survived it. The next thing I knew, I had cum all over the bed, my clothes and even the carpet.

I did everything I could to clear away the evidence, and then wandered to the river. Somehow fishing had lost its attraction.

I sat there a long time thinking about what I had seen and felt. It was so big that I felt I had to share it.

When school ended, I found Mary on her way home. I managed to pull her away from her friends with some effort, and hurriedly explained to her that I needed to spend some time with her. Fortunately she had her house to herself for the afternoon, and so we beat a hasty retreat. I suppose everyone was a little puzzled by our hurried departure, but I am sure that we will find an excuse that will satisfy their curiosity.

I must admit that my intention was solely to get Mary's opinion of what I had seen, but that's not really how it worked out. As we went into her front door, I suddenly realized that I was intensely horny once more. As soon as the door closed, I brought her to me in a desperate embrace. Again my cock was at full attention and ready for action. To my surprise, Mary was ready too, and eagerly encouraged me. I needed her so much, I pulled her to me and kissed her as if my life depended on it. There was no time for niceties: we both knew what we needed. Clothes flew in all directions. Before we knew it we were both naked, right there in the lounge!

Mary lay back on the table. I lay down on top of her, and took her missionary-style. I'm sure that normally Mary would have been uncomfortable lying on the hard table, but she did not seem to notice. She thrust against me as if trying to bounce the table into orbit.

It's a good thing that the table is solidly made...

I cannot remember everything we did. I just experienced a blur of frantic movement; body against body, accompanied by inarticulate groans and animal grunts. Suddenly Mary tensed against me, her climax meeting mine with perfect timing.

And then everything blacked out for a long time.

It was our best time ever.

Once we came to our senses again, I suddenly realized the danger we had unwittingly placed ourselves in. In our fever we had not even drawn the curtains. Anyone coming up the path could have seen us. Mary thinks the fear of discovery added spice to the experience. Maybe she's right, but I don't want to repeat it soon; I'm sure I'd be dreadfully embarrassed if we were caught...

We dressed, tidied the room and opened to windows so that the smell of our coupling would not be noticed. We went to Mary's room and got to some serious talking.

Mary asked me what had sparked my remarkable performance. I swore her to secrecy and told her the whole story. I said that I was confused about how my mother could masturbate.

Mary says that women fantasize about sex too, and that this does not stop as women get older. She tells me she likes looking at men, especially handsome men. She likes to look at their butts, and wonder what they would be like naked. Mary has even told me some of her fantasies in return for mine. I showed her how I masturbate, and she put on a show for me too.

Finally, Mary says that everyone knows that a dildo is a far better tool for fun than a finger. She showed me her collection and explained why she likes each one, and how they were different. I'll not tire you with a detailed description of Mary's sex toys; she says that you can see them at any sex shop. The point is that my mind is still buzzing at the possibilities.

Thank you for being so patient with my simple little story. I think I have explained the situation as best as I can.

My question is simple. How can I give my mom a dildo for a present without my dad catching me and without her knowing who it is from?

I look forward to your answer.

Yours truly,

Harry Hotpecker

How dare you think of giving your mother a dildo? Your letter simply reinforces my belief that the youth of today are clueless when it comes to gifts.

You are a hunky teenager with gallons of cum. Your father, however, is probably slowing down in that department. Your mother is feeling neglected and in need of some serious sexual attention. These facts combined forces one to the conclusion that the picture in your mother's mind as she was masturbating was of you.

Don't buy her a dildo! Give her the real thing. Give her the gift of a young virile man in his prime. Fuck her like she really wants it!

This might seem difficult, but fortunately there are resources on the Internet to guide young men in their quest to meet the sexual needs of their mothers. One such resource is the Literotica web site. It has an entire section dedicated to teaching family love including numerous inspiring case studies of young studs that recognized that they had to go the extra six inches to really love their mothers. Just go to the Literotica site, open the Incest/Taboo section and find a story that applies to your case.

Go on, spoil your mother today. Give her the freshest, sweetest cock on the planet.

And be sure to cum visit me when you're finished with her...