This is an utterly true story of events that took place some 50 years ago. I've only written this because I wanted to be able to keep the memories fresh as I get older and because my mother has now passed away and can't now be blamed any more.
Needless to say, I've changed the names and I've also incorporated a certain amount of fiction -- mainly to make my story more readable. I've also embellished it here and there to make it more enjoyable and I've taken the liberty of adding conversation. I've no real idea now as to what we said at the time, but looking back, I think that we would have said the kind of things that I've added.
But it is essentially a true story -- and I'll let you decide which parts are fact and which parts are fiction! And it isn't a wham, bang story -- it takes a while to develop and it doesn't just cover the fucking!
So here goes.....
Briefly -- here's me....Chris. At 19 I was a reasonably tall fit guy with no noticeable defects or blemishes. At about 6' I was at least 7" taller than my mum -- and about the same build as my dad, as it happens. I had blue eyes and mousy-brown hair (family traits) and, thanks to having my own 'keep fit' area at the back of the garage, I was reasonably well toned. I was no Adonis but I wouldn't be the first to be rejected at a slave auction! I weighed in at just over 140 pounds (10 stone) because although I was fit, I hadn't yet really developed much muscle. I loved sport and I played cricket (I was a fast bowler) with the local village team and I was in the college First XI cricket team as well. I ran competitively for the county of Surry at sports events throughout the country and I played tennis at the local club, where I won several cups. And I certainly didn't smoke or drink at that age!
But all that doesn't really matter in this story, which is really all about my mum......and my penis!
When I was about 19 (I was born in August 1943, by the way) I started the memorable and utterly enjoyable experience of having a fantastic sexual relationship with my mother. I know that it's illegal and is called 'incest' but as I'll try to explain, it was really a mutual frustration relief exercise.....that eventually became something of a love affair.
It started soon after one Christmas which I know for certain was that of 1962 -- and that winter of 1962/3 has gone down in the record books as one of Britain's coldest winters ever. I'd left Grammar School when I was almost 17; then started work almost immediately. However, within a year I'd become disillusioned with my very basic job, so I'd jacked it in. I really needed more qualifications to get anywhere so in September 1961, just after I'd become 18 and a little over a year after I left school, I became a student again and enrolled in a three year course at college. It was a medical management course with a boring accounting base, but with extensive tuition in physiological anatomy, targeted at us students becoming qualified within the Health industry. It was a real grind but I knew that if I stuck at it, the rewards would be worthwhile.
Although it was a three year course, the second and third years were correspondence style studies and most of the work could be done at home, so once I'd completed my first year, I was able to study at home and it therefore came about that I was 'at home' during that very chilly winter.
Once the cold weather departed around Easter 1963 I returned to college lectures until the end of the second course year in July -- and then thereafter I remained at home and did my third year by post with just the occasional visit to see my tutors.
Once my course was completed (which I passed with an "A--" by the way) I eventually found myself a job; not the best paid job in the world but I had to start somewhere. Thank heavens therefore that my parents allowed me to live with them right through until I got married in December 1967, by which time I was 24.
The relationship that developed, lasted all the way through until I became steadily involved with my first proper girlfriend and wife-to-be in 1966 and even then we managed a number of lusty couplings. The last occasion that we managed to have sexual intercourse was just two days before my new wife and I sailed for Australia -- a sort of goodbye present! Despite her 'confessions' at the time, I've never really found out whether my mother allowed us to become 'lovers' out of frustration, from lust, love or simply as a caring mum but I have no regrets about what happened.
Anyway, by the age of 19 I was fully developed, both in stature and sexually and I was about as horny as a goat -- anything remotely sexual was fair game and I experimented with pretty well anything to do with sex that was on offer!
My cock had developed nicely and had now reached its full adult size -- about 7Β½ inches long and a little over 6 inches in circumference.
(Just a thought -- have you ever tried to measure 'across' your penis? Not so easy -- do you trap the shaft between two books or something and measure across? Needs to be a guess, if done by eye. Hmmmm.....so it's easier to run a piece of string round your cock and then see how long it is. Divide by pi -- 3.14 -- and you'll get the diameter. Easy!)
When I tossed myself off, I could make my cum really fountain out -- a good squirt could be fired to a distance of four or five feet or more. Alternatively and if I had the chance, I'd catch it in my hand and after licking up my spunk, I'd swallow it eagerly.
We lived in Guildford in Surrey, England and I had several part-time girlfriends -- but I only got round to seeing them occasionally and then only had some form of sexual contact with them when the chances arose, so although I'd had some experience, I was pretty naΓ―ve about sex generally. Anyway, I was studying hard for my course, (following which I was soon employed) and so I had little spare time to go hunting for sex. My best friend was my fist which pulled many a load of spunk from my rampant cock. As a result, at the time at which the relationship that I'll describe took place, I was often very definitely frustrated and I was relieved and delighted therefore that a sexual partner came to me at home.
I feel that I've been very fortunate in that I had always been very close to my mother and it was she who took the trouble to educate me on the subject of sex. It was she who gave me the 'birds and bees' talk; it was she who provided books and literature to extend my learning -- and eventually it was she who completed my education!
I had a younger brother named Barry, who was about 14 at the time. He was away at boarding school from early January and would only be back for the Easter holidays. I, being 19, was the 'man of the house' and it was a role that I filled in more ways than was intended! My mother, I'm pleased to say, was only about 21 years older than I was, so she must have been just about 40 when these events took place. In retrospect, the age gap was considerable but she was a fit healthy liberated woman whose age probably didn't show.
From my memories, she had a pretty good figure -- I can certainly remember the swell of her hips and bum and the way her breasts stood out -- they still did, well into her later years. I also remember her thick dark pubic hair and I think that I've had a 'thing' about dark pubes ever since. All this is not to mention her pretty face with her dark eyes and smiling lips. With her lovely curvy body, her great pair of tits and that very dark and bushy pubic triangle of hers, she was a mature woman in the prime of her life, as they say! Having said all that, it is only in retrospect that I could see all her sexy attributes -- before these events she was really just 'my mum'.
My father, who worked with the Tax Office, had received promotion in the autumn of 1962 and it meant that he had to change offices and relocate to Warwickshire, some 120 miles to the north. He therefore had begun searching for a new house immediately after Christmas -- but it was a long job to find the right house and it became a search that took almost nine months to complete. He had to both find a new home and sell our old house, as well as attend to his work, so he was extremely busy. And once he'd found us a home, it needed some work done to it and so there were more delays. Often therefore, as a matter of economy and also of common sense, he would lodge with a colleague in Warwickshire and would sometimes end up staying away from home for several weeks at a time during his search for and then the improvements to, our new house.