Here's what had happened a few hours ago:
I'd just about had it with Kimberly. Sure, she had that rock solid kind of body -- thanks to swimming, running and I didn't even know which other sorts of workouts -- that seemed to be just made for fucking. She was on the short side, about 5'3", but that just made her musculature look more compact. She had curly auburn hair, and her limbs were slender, though very well defined. Her breasts could just fill a wine glass; a perfect handful. Her whole body was tight, but that was the problem for me. Her pussy was just too tight. I was sitting naked with her in her apartment, her terrific physique giving me a hard on despite her crying. Was she crying because she still hurt from my dick being too big for her, or was it the mutual frustration?
At that point in my life I was beyond caring. My 23 year old meat is fair sized, about eight and a half inches, no donkey cock or anything like that. Most girls and women I'd been with had thoroughly enjoyed sex with me. But Kimberly said I pushed too hard. I went too fast. I was simply too big for her.
So I got dressed and got out of there.
I lived at home with my mom. Our financial situation is very good, but complicated. My father had been a lawyer pushing forty, when he picked up my mother. She was an unusually easy-going seventeen year old waitress with straight black hair and bright green eyes, who I guess could make herself look like a twenty something with the right makeup. She'd been his favorite waitress, and he her favorite customer. They flirted and played around, and I guess they ran into each other outside of the restaurant setting.
One thing led to another. Neither of them thought to have a relationship. It was just a one-time fling. But one day, my father came to the restaurant to find that his favorite waitress was pregnant. I'll skip the gory details, and just say that there came a point wherein my father realized that I was his. He was old fashioned in his way, and asked her to marry him. She didn't see any better options at the time. Besides, she really did like the guy. They never tried to make any pretense of equality, though I do believe that they carried on a love life for the entirety of their marriage. He provided, and she asked for nothing more. He was a hard driving successful lawyer, and Mom didn't mind if he was out late or came home only to sleep. He offered to get a nanny for me so that Mom could go to college, but she wasn't interested. She only wanted to take care of me. When pressed for something more she might do, she confessed an enthusiasm (if not an overwhelming talent) for ballet. So she has taken ballet classes ever since I was old enough to go to kindergarten.
Dad and I were never close. The household was clearly divided with him and his duties on one side and me & mom on the other with ours. It wasn't an angry or cold arrangement. It was just how it was.
Dad's working intensity finally caught up with him, and he died of a heart attack before his fiftieth birthday. He left Mom with considerable assets, and a system of property management companies and stock portfolio managers to assure a steady income without Mom having to work. His law firm was committed to oversee it all, and make sure that everyone played fair. Mom was advised (rightly, I think) not to touch or mess around too much with the money arrangements. She took a modest home that she could easily afford, and continued raising me and taking dancing lessons in a studio while I was at school. Eventually she got bored with that as my school and social hours got longer (friends and the football team,) so she took on a part-time secretary job for the activity and the extra spending cash.
The bottom line is that Mom has too much money in holdings for me to qualify for grants and some of the loans, but not really enough money to pay for more than the gouging costs of my college education without putting herself in financial danger. We couldn't have that, so it was understood that I would have to live with her at least until I got my degree.
I pulled into our driveway, and parked in front of the large slatted wood gate. I got out and headed to the back yard. "Hey mom?!"
"Back here, Honey!" her voice called from behind the house. "You're back early aren't you?"
"Yeah," I said rounding the corner. "Kim and I had a..." My mouth and my feet stopped. Mom was lying, propped up on her elbows, on a towel just out of the shade of a tree. She was wearing nothing but sunglasses, a sun hat and a smile.
So, it's description time: At about 5'9" with long straight shampoo commercial quality black hair, Mom is tall and slender; a ballet dancer's body with some extra in the chest. She never performed professionally, but she loves the dance and the exercise. The result of that kind of workout is muscles that are long and strong but don't look bulky. Where Kimberly's musculature had been overtly obvious and hard edged (Fuck-machine I used to think. She was almost body builder muscular, but still slender and feminine,) Mom's body was all delicate curves. You might not be able to count the abs on mom's belly, but it was distinctly flat, and you could trace the long swooping lines down her abdomen. Even at 40, Mom was every straight guy's dream MILF.
And she was lying naked in our back yard! I'd never seen her sun bathing in the nude before, and I could just barely see her blushing behind her shades. But she refused to run off and hide, reasoning (she later told me) that I was a grown man now, and that she wouldn't act ashamed of her body or her actions. I can't vouch for the actions, but that body certainly left nothing to be ashamed of!
"You and Kim had a what, Sweetie?" I couldn't respond. I was stunned by the incredible shape of my mother's naked form. "Is there something wrong, Kevin?" she asked, beginning to look a bit worried; perhaps self-conscious.
I coughed, and said, "Uhum, no! No. no, Mom. Nothing's wrong. I've just...um...never seen you bake your buns in the buff before." I called up the most charming grin I could manage, considering how flustered I was with the unreal sexy beauty in front of me. She liked my words well enough, and laughed. Maybe it was my unspent sexual frustration with Kimberly that made me say it, but I couldn't resist telling my mother, "You look stunning, Mom. I mean, I always knew you were a knockout, but your face, your figure - your skin is just glowing -- I...I just can't believe my eyes!"
She broke out all the pearly whites in a grin, and said "Ohhh! Thanks! It's the sun. It's just perfect today. Grab a towel and join me."
"You mean...naked?"
She looked a bit surprised, as if she hadn't considered that factor. But then she seemed to resolve herself again. "Sure! Why not? Strip down and bask in the sun with your dear old mom."
I went into the house to get a towel. "Old" mom? She look better than my 25 year old girlfriend, and she thought of herself as old? I couldn't wait to get back outside to catch another eye-full of my mother's succulent shape. I was so eager, that I didn't consider that she would see my hard on (left there by Kim, and still inspired by mom.) But Mom sure considered it.
"Woohoohoo!" she cheered and clapped when I came out of the house. Looks like I'm not the only one looking good! Wow!" She took off her sunglasses, and looked directly at my painful erection. "Wow." she said again in more subdued tones. I walked towards her, trying to look calm and disinterested. I had stopped playing football after high school, but continued working out regularly. Having Kim for a girlfriend had pushed me to keep in top condition, so Mom had good reason to like what she saw.
I was looking at her while she was looking at me. That body! Those long legs, and how could a forty year old have such perky breasts? Mom's lithe shape just brought my prick another two degrees higher and harder. "Kevin," she said. "Did you and Kim just..." she trailed off, but she waggled her eyebrows comically and said, "y'know?"
"No, we didn't. I think I may have just broken up with her, actually." I said plopping down on my towel next to her. "It just wasn't working out." I tried looking away in the hope of calming my boner.
"Oh, I'm sorry Kevin. She must be devastated to loose..." I heard her swallow next to me. "you." I shrugged, not wanting to go into it anymore, and Mom took the hint. "Just you lie down here in the sun, and it will cock...I mean cook your troubles away." We both laughed at her Freudian slip and lay back in the late Spring sun. It was practically Summer, but there was no worry about burning . The shade of the tree would be over us within an hour or two.
We lay there together, and I tried not to think about how lucky a bead of sweat could be if it was trickling along Mom's inner thigh.
Amazingly, we both dozed off. Mom was back from an intense session at her ballet classes, and had just had a steaming hot shower before lying down to read her romance novel and catch a tan. I'd used up a lot of strength trying to fuck Kimberly silly, and my body just shut down in frustration.
We have discussed what happened next several times since, and here is what we think happened: I rolled over onto my side, away from Mom, as I slept. And in her sleep she rolled up and snuggled up behind me and spooned. The romance novel she'd been reading before I'd arrived was a pretty racy book, and that or simply the view of my member (in combination with feeling the shape of a man against her body) brought on some sort of dream which led her to reach down and across to my still-erect penis. She squeezed and stroked, completely unaware of whose dick it was. Hell, she hardly knew she was doing it at all.
