Her genitals were smooth, soft, and completely shorn of pubic hair. Up close, her butterfly lips pouted at me as I slid in for a closer inspection, running a finger across them, and hearing her soft groan as they started to open, like the petals of a flower. Assisting them, I opened her pussy, looking at the shiny pink moist flesh inside as her vagina flexed, as though winking at me.
A heady aroma of musk was captured by my nostrils, my face drawing closer until I was able to poke out my tongue and lick it from bottom to top. Her cry of pleasure doubled my efforts, this time circling her anus with my tongue before moving it upwards as I licked her pussy, and then finally as I exposed her clitoris and compressed it between my lips.
Her hand stroked my hair, her hips trying to push her vagina tightly against my mouth.
'Please, Andy. Please.'
With facial lips pressed firmly against vaginal lips, my tongue slid inside her opening and explored, licking, and tickling all of her internal flesh that it could reach. Kissing it as passionately as I had kissed her mouth. I allowed my hands to wander, across her mound and belly, over her ribcage, and then caressing and fondling the two comparatively firm orbs that jutted proudly from her chest. Her nipples reacted to my fingertips, twisting, and rolling them as they became erect and she groaned louder, her hips squirming against my mouth as her hands pulled at my head.
Returning to her lower torso, my hands pulled her butt cheeks open before running a finger around her anus and then poking the tip of it into the opening. Glancing at her chest, its up and down rapid motion matched her breathing, a ragged panting as her groans of pleasure and encouragement became louder.
'Andy...... Please...... Andy? Fuck me.'
It was the invitation I had been waiting for, pushing myself upright and moving up the bed until I knelt between her open thighs, rubbing my cock against her mound and pussy. I was teasing, increasing her desperation to have my penis inside her vagina. When her hands reached for it, I slid it home, expanding her pussy and making her gasp as my shaft filled her passage.
Nestled deeply within, I paused for a moment, gazing at her body, and working my way up to her face. Her sensual lips pouted, and parted, the tip of a pink tongue running across them. Withdrawing, I eased forward again, and this time allowed my lips to meet hers. The kiss was beyond arousing, beyond passion. There was a hunger there as our mouths tried to devour each other. And then at last she was getting what she required, my cock working its way in and out of her cunt as I slowly and sensually fucked her.
For some reason, I was obsessed with her tits, lavishing them with minute kisses, my mouth constantly licking and sucking at her large erect nipples as her hand caressed my face as though I was suckling, and she was feeding me. The image increased my arousal, and in turn, hers, my hips moving faster as my shaft slid in and out of her pussy. Her breathing was now coming in short sporadic gasps, her legs wrapped around me which opened her pussy wider as I hammered at her cunt.
When she stared into my face and just before her eyes went blank, I knew she had reached her peak. I wanted it to last longer, but at the same time, my body was demanding its release. The final effort pushed her over the edge; my ejaculation intensified as I watched her squirm and thrash beneath me, her upper torso arching from the bed and pushing her taut stretched breast in my direction. Fucking her until exhaustion sapped my strength, I prolonged her climax, the orgasm shaking her body as she convulsed.
'Was it as bad as you first imagined?' I asked her when I was eventually able to breathe and speak.
Turning on her side towards me, her eyes sparkled. 'No!...... It was actually...... incredibly good! Sexier and far more arousing than I imagined.'
'So does that mean you would actually consider letting your son make love to you again?'
She giggled and blushed a little. 'Maybe,' she replied with a teasing laugh.
My mother Cassie was twenty years older than I was, and at thirty-eight she was what every young man dreamt of. She was an older woman, attractive, and with a body to die for and which just automatically attracted one's attention.
As far as I knew, I was the first male person she had slept with for at least the last eighteen years; the reason being that, as I had only recently discovered, she thought of herself as a lesbian up until that moment.
During my childhood and teenage years, I thought nothing of the fact that I did not appear to have a father. There were plenty of kids my age in exactly the same boat; we were not an anomaly anymore. Nor did I question why my aunt Patsy spent so much time at our house. Mom and she were sisters, and so it did not seem incongruous to me when they often slept in the same room and bed.
In a way, I suppose, Patsy was nearly as much a mother to me as my mum was, a kind of surrogate in a way. They would take me out together, to the beach, on holiday, and to the clubs and groups I attended, and in all that time, I never saw anything that I would have considered inappropriate take place between them.
She had her own place about a mile away, and I did think, as I got older, what a waste of money it was because of the amount of time she spent at our house. As a teenager, and with plenty of friends, I never understood why my home seemed to be the place where we all congregated. It was only later, as I got older that I worked it out in my mind. Mum and Patsy were young compared to most other mothers and allowed the boisterousness and disruption of several growing teens that perhaps other parents would not. It was that, and the fact that they were both attractive, which I suppose also had an influence.
Throughout my teenage years, our group of friends began to expand. To us original four lads, girlfriends were added, plus some mates of mates. It grew to ten, maybe a dozen; some coming, and others going as relationships changed.
No one ever mentioned my lack of a father or the fact that Patsy was a constant at our house. It was just a warm family atmosphere where everyone was welcome.
The problem with life is that when you are young, you accept everything at face value. I reached an age where words were bandied about, men who liked other men, and women who fancied other women; even then I hadn't twigged. Maybe it was because the other woman in mum's life was her sister and not a complete stranger.
My eighteenth was celebrated with a party. Mom and Patsy went overboard with all of my friends invited, putting on a spread and buying plenty of alcohol.
'You can have your first proper drink.' Mom laughed. That was a joke in itself since all of my friends and I had been getting served in local pubs for nearly two years now.
There was too much food, the music was too loud, and everyone drank far too much; it was what a great party should be. Mom and Patsy had stayed in the background initially, but my friends had been coming here for years and that evening treated them as though they were part of our group.
The drunker everyone got, the more fun it was watching some of my mates try to flirt and chat up my mother and aunt while getting nowhere fast. Despite them being older and as such, my parents, they certainly knew how to party, both of them well on the way to being pissed. My aunt teased, flirted, and danced with most of the lads. But that was as far as it went, none of them even reaching first base.
At the end of the night, we packed them all into taxis and sent them on their way. 'We can clear all of this lot in the morning,' mum announced as she and Patsy headed upstairs. I stayed up a while longer, knowing that in my present state, the world would spin if I tried to lie down. While I waited for some equilibrium to return, I used the time to clear away most of the mess; almost all of it was done by the time I headed for my room nearly an hour later.
