First Iss with Mom

The relationship between a loving mother and son is something very special. I love my mom. I always have. I grew up with three sisters, but I was the only boy. My mom and I always had a very close relationship, but it was never very physical. I would hug her goodnight before I went to bend, but that was about it. When I graduated and went away to college, I remember her crying as I got ready to board the airplane. We shared a long hug and then I left. Years later she confided in me that she always wished she had been more physically affectionate with me as a young boy. She told me that she had stopped kissing me when I was 3 or 4 years old and that by the time I left for college we wished that she could have kissed me on the lips. The sentiment was not sexual at all, far from it. She just wanted to connect with me on a more intimate level. Honestly when she told me that I was a little weirded out.

Fast forward almost twenty years. I am now in my late 30s and my mom is in her late 60s. My dad passed away a few years ago and I moved in with my mom to help take care of her and to help with the finances. We had been living together for about 6 months when I heard her crying from the other room. I slowly walked up to her bedroom door and listened closer. I could clearly hear her gently crying as she sat on her bed. I was torn between walking away to save her from embarrassment or investigating further and seeing if there was something I could help with. In the end I slowly pushed her door open and stepped inside.

She looked up at me in surprise and immediately began wiping her eyes. I sat down next to her on the bed and wrapped my arm around her. I knew she was probably thinking about my dad. She rested her head on my shoulder and began to cry again. We sat there like that for what seemed to be a long time, but I'm not sure exactly how long it was. Eventually, she stopped crying and seemed to come back to herself. She apologized and thanked me for sitting with her. I assured her that I loved her and would always be there for her, no matter what she needed from me.

As I got up and started to leave the room she called me back. I turned and stood looking at her as she sat on the bed. Our eyes met and she asked me if I remember the day I left for college. Of course I did and I told her that. She asked if I remember what she had later told me about that day. Again, I assured her that I did. She had told me that she wished she would have kissed me. She just nodded and kept looking at me. There was an awkward pause, as I didn't exactly know where she was going with this or what she expected of me. Finally, she stood up and crossed the floor to me. She was standing less than a step away and looking up into my eyes. She reached both hands up and put them on either side of my face and pulled me in for a kiss.

It was a soft, tender, and loving kiss that lasted longer than I expected, but I didn't pull away. Her lips were warm and slightly salty as we pulled apart. She smiled at me and then patted me on the cheek and turned back to her bed. I also turned around and walked out. That was the end of it, I thought. She was feeling sad and lonely and needing some human contact. Even better, she needed to feel loved by her family. I was happy to be able to help.

We didn't speak about it the next day. It was like it never happened. I saw her in the morning, we had breakfast together, and I said goodbye to her before I ran off to work. Honestly I kind of put it out of my mind. It was a long and busy day at the office. By the time I got home, I had completely forgot about the slightly strange, if sweet, encounter with my mom the night before. I got home later than usual and she was already in bed. I tried not to make too much noise as I quickly fixed myself some dinner, then cleaned up the kitchen and headed off to take a shower. I threw my clothes on the bed and climbed into the hot shower, letting the stress of the day melt away. My muscles felt relaxed and my mind cleared. After I dried off, I threw on a pair of boxers and a comfy old t-shirt and came out of the bathroom. I climbed into bed and turned out the lights.

It couldn't have been more than 5 minutes after that. I was startled when my bedroom door opened and I saw my mom backlight from the hall way slowly sliding into my room. She silently closed the door behind her and very slowly started padding her way over to my bed. I could see that she was wearing a bath robe and her hair was damp. She must have taken a shower just before I got home. As she got closer, I sat and she seemed to freeze in her tracks. She said that she heard me come home and just wanted to say goodnight. I told her goodnight, but she walked the last couple steps to my bed and sat down on the edge.

She reached out on stroked my face and told me that I was such a sweet boy. Then she took my face in her hands again and the memories of last night came flooding back to me. I thought that was a one time thing, but maybe now she thought this was going to be our nightly ritual. Again, I found it fairly odd, but not enough to say something. She brought her face closer to mine and our lips pressed together. This time she lingered even longer, her hands gripping the back of my neck, holding me in place. The pressure of her lips increased and then I almost jumped as I felt her lips part and her tongue slipped into my mouth. I was stunned. My mom was french kissing me. I felt her tongue moving around, gently rubbing the inside of my mouth, my teeth, my tongue. Then it was gone. She released her hold on my face and pulled back. She held my gaze for a long moment then turned and started to stand up.

I was unable to move for a moment, but then I reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her back down into a sitting position on the bed. This time I placed both my hands on her face and pulled her close, pressing my lips hers. She didn't resist. In fact, she gently parted her lips and this time my tongue ventured into her waiting mouth. Immediately she began sucking on my tongue and gently rubbing it with her own. I've kissed many women in my life, but this was an entirely new experience. It was erotic, but also a deep, profound sense of love and comfort. The taste of her mouth was intoxicating. The wrongness of the whole situation was also at odds with the very rightness of the moment.

I pulled her down on top of me, my hands moving from her hair, to her neck, then down her back and finally resting on her butt. I could feel her weight pressing down on me. Her warmth seeping into me. Her breasts pressed up against my chest. I rolled her over so that we were side to side on the bed facing each other. We kept kissing, neither of us pulling away. Slowly. Both of us enjoying the ride. Then all of a sudden she pulled back and looked me in the eyes for a long moment. She said, "I want you to know how much I love you, son. How much I've always loved you." then without saying another word she reached down and opened her robe. She shrugged her shoulder out and it fell back onto the bed. She wasn't wearing anything underneath. She smelled faintly of soap, not perfume. She smelled fresh.

She was lying on her side, propped up on one elbow. I looked her over, taking in the sight on my mother in my bed, who had just exposed her naked body to me. She was in her 60s, and was never a supermodel even in her prime, but the raw sexual attraction of her form was overpowering. Tentatively, I reached out and placed my hand on her breast, barely touching it. As if by the slightly disturbance this whole encounter would dissolve into a dream. She reached up, placing her hand on top of mine and pressed in down, squeezing her breast hard. I felt her nipple, erect in the palm of my hand. I squeezed again then lowered my mouth to her chest and began to suck and lick. She threw her head back as I sucked one nipple into my mouth and then the other.

Her hand stretched out and found my cock, slipping it out through the fly in my boxers. She spun around, throwing one leg up over my head, straddling my face and I could see her pussy inches away from my eyes. She gently lowered herself onto me until she made contact and then rocked back and forth rubbing those wet, pink lips over my face, my nose, my mouth. I opened my mouth and stuck out my tongue and was rewarded with a sweet, salty taste. Her pussy was already dripping wet and I devoured it. At the same time she took hold of my cock and expertly took it into her mouth. I was practically beside myself as she bobbed up and down on my cock, effortlessly sliding it deep into her throat and then back out to flick the tip with her tongue. I reached up and took a hold of her ass cheeks, one in each hand and squeezed hard. Hard enough to leave marks I thought, but she responded by pressed herself harder onto my face.

I couldn't take much more of this. I tried to warn her that I was about to cum, but I couldn't get a word out with her grinding on my face. I just went ahead and rode out the wave as my body responded and I shot load after load of sperm directly into her mouth. To my surprise, she didn't pull away or even take my cock out of her mouth. She gulped down every drop that came out of me while moaning and continuing to rub her pussy on my face. Then all at once I felt her vagina tighten and begin to convulse as a stream of thick milky white fluid shot out. It filled my mouth and I was overcome by the taste of my mom's discharge. It was an otherworldly experience. I swallowed as much as I could and was surprised to realize that I had also started to cum a second time.