Just a Iss

Do you remember last Christmas Eve? Outside my house looked like a post card. The snow was still clean and the air was crystalline. Mom and I were laughing after too much eggnog as we started opening presents. As she unwrapped the last glittering red box, tears suddenly filled her eyes. It was just an iPod she'd been thinking about buying. She hugged me and then kissed me, and then hugged me hard. I thought I heard her sniffle. I knew it wasn't the iPod and I said, "What's wrong mom?"

She said, "It's nothing," and kept holding on. Her body moved against me as the crying became evident. I became uncomfortable. I asked her again why she was crying and she didn't say anything. It wasn't like her not to tell me what was bothering her.

Everybody has at least one story in them. I guess that's where this one began. Mine was a commonplace biography until I was nineteen. Like most, it had its share of the extremes, and an abundance of the boring stuff that happens in between.

Kids have better and worse relationships with their parents; mine was better. Well with my mom anyway, since my father had died when I was six months old. I always assumed she'd be there for me, to tell me what she thought, and listen to whatever I had to say. It never occurred to me that anything was off limits between us.

It wasn't long after Christmas that her drinking got noticeably heavier and mom seemed to look at me in a way I couldn't read, or didn't want to. I guess, without realizing it, I was looking at her a little differently also, because I began to notice that sometimes she wasn't wearing a bra. Her nipples were quite evident through her tops and I wondered if I just hadn't been observant or she had just started doing it. I decided that it must have been a recent thing because mom was pretty full up there, so I couldn't have missed that.

In a matter of weeks things began to crystallize. It was a Saturday night and we had both gone to bed. I was in a deep sleep when I heard the intercom on my phone ring. I didn't know where I was until I heard her voice. She said in soft slow separate words, "Maybe you should call 911. Then she said, "No, wait..." the phone must have dropped and I rushed to her room.

I heard her in the bathroom being sick and I knocked and said, "Are you all right mom?"

She said, "I'm okay...I'm okay...go back to bed. I had a bad stomachache, but it passed now. I'm all right honey, just go to bed, I'll see you in the morning."

I was worried and got up at six and went to her room. I opened the door noiselessly and saw her curled in a fetal position with her nightgown hiked up to her panties. I was distracted as I followed the graceful curve from her ankle to the top of her thigh. I remember thinking, 'What nice legs.' I then became aware of how deeply she was sleeping by the sounds of her hard breathing, so I left her to rest. I was glad it was a weekend because she didn't wake until noon. In all the years we were with Carl, she'd never gotten up after seven.

Mom had never re-married, but we did live with Carl from when I was eleven to seventeen. Mom always asked me to get along with him as a favor to her, and for the most part, I did. He wasn't a bad guy, but I never saw him as a dad any more than he saw me as a son. I was just the kid who happened to be there, and the kid she bought things for. In the beginning he said things like, "How many shoes does one kid need," but after he while he didn't say anything and gave mom whatever she wanted. I guess he was getting what he wanted, in addition to the fact that mom kept his house spotless and was a great cook. I never realized how good until I started eating out with my friends.

When I thought about it, I realized that it was after mom had broken it off with Carl that she began to change, and I also realized that the Christmas episode was just one more incident that I could put with a long list of others. Even the anti-depressants she had tried didn't do much to lift her spirits.

So I wasn't as surprised as I could have been by the 'Stomachache' business. When she finally woke up the following day, she said, "Honey, sit down, I have to talk to you."

I looked at her and I could see the anguish in her face and I said, "What's going on mom?"

"I never thought I would tell you this," she said, "but I'm stuck in my head and maybe this will let me out." I had no idea where she was going with all of it. "I couldn't stay with Carl anymore...because..." I never could understand why she was with 'Old Carl,' as I liked to call him to piss him off, except that he paid the bills.

So I said, "I don't blame you for dropping him mom; I never saw much affection between you anyway. You should have gotten out a long time ago."

She said, "Honey, it's not about Carl, it's about me. You're right that I should have, except that, well, he took care of us and sent you to school." I certainly didn't judge her for that because I knew how difficult life was for her before he came along.

Here's where the conversation got weird. She said, "But the main reason was how I feel about you."

That didn't compute and my face must have said, "What?" She went on. "I've been unhappy about myself for a long time now...how I feel...how I shouldn't feel...that's why last night I took too many pills." My alarm must have been evident. "Baby don't worry..."she said. "I was wrong...that's why I threw them up before they affected me too much."

All I said was "MOM?"

She read what I was thinking and said, " I won't do it again I promise love, just... listen to me...I've always told you everything." She hesitated a moment and said, "I've never been that interested when it came to being physical with men, not with your father, not with Carl, but I feel something I shouldn't when I think about you...when I'm with you..."

Holy Maloney, what was I hearing? After a speechless moment, something struck me. "Mom," I said, "was it satisfying being with Carl...or my father?"

She had no idea what I meant. The first thing she said was, "They were both nice to me most of the time."

I said, "No, mom, I mean personally, you know...sex?"

"What do you mean?" she asked.

I must have raised my eyebrows when I asked her, "Did they make you come?" I couldn't be any more direct that that, but I had always said to her what I was thinking.

"Uhh, I don't know... I don't think so."

I said, "Mom did you ever have an orgasm? There are a lot of women out there who never have."

"I guess not, "she said. Mom was always like that; if you asked her a question, she'd answer. Not that I was such an experienced lover, but I realized that she'd only been with two guys and neither of them knew enough to stimulate her clit until she came.

"Mom, you just haven't met the right guy..."

"I don't think that's it...I can't stop thinking about...us..."

I wasn't ready for that. There I was, a horny nineteen-year old, and a nice looking woman was practically asking me to do...something...and just one little drawback - she was my mother. I loved her more than anyone in the world, but I just never thought of having sex with her.

Now that's not to say I never thought about her in sexual terms. To be crass, the term I'm thinking of would be 'Tits'. Like I said before, you can't miss seeing that my mother's breasts are full; and I guess big, voluptuous, and all those kinds of words, fit. Her cleavage showed whenever it got the chance. I had no guilt about sneaking peaks whenever I could, but in my head it had nothing to do with having sex with her.

She said, "I shouldn't have told you...but..."

"It's okay mom, I just need to process this, and we have to talk about...maybe you should see someone..."

"No," she said, "We'll work it out, we always did, didn't we baby?"

"Sure." I said, but had no idea how. That is until I had one of my crazier notions. In the middle of the night I'm thinking to myself, 'I could give her an orgasm.' I know it sounds ridiculous to tell you that I wasn't really thinking about it sexually, that it was more that the pill business shook me up and I just wanted my mom feel better, but that's what I was thinking at the time.

In my simplistic notion, I figured I'd 'Press the button,' and everything would be all right. I guess I believed it because when the next weekend came, I told mom we should spend Friday night together at home. She thought it was a nice idea. She made a lovely dinner and we finished a bottle wine between us. We watched a video and as she was leaning on me and getting sleepy, I was looped enough to say, "Mom, let me make you come."

She said, "Honey, no, what are you talking about?"

I said, "I'll show you mom, you can feel better, and then you can move on from all the stuff that's bothering you." I went on like that and she listened as she always did, open, and trusting. I guess I talked long enough for the subject to go from the preposterous to the possible.

We went through lots of questions and once she got to 'Do you really think we should,' the only question not said aloud was 'Your bedroom or mine?' When I took her by the hand I sensed a reluctance to go to mine so I took her to hers.

It wasn't cold in the room, but she was practically shivering so I raised the heat. She was nervous as hell and as for me, if I didn't know that the pounding was coming from my chest, I would have looked around for a drum.

We sat on the bed and I held her hand. I didn't take her clothes off. I put my arm around her and kissed her. I didn't dwell on whom I was kissing, and I didn't fantasize about someone else, I just kissed her. It was nice. I did put my hand on her breasts and caressed them because they were so 'there.' Feeling her over the bra and dress did make me wonder what they would feel like bare.

I told her lie back and she did. She just closed her eyes and opened her legs a bit. She lifted her hips when she felt me taking her panties off. She closed her eyes and waited. As soon as she felt my tongue sliding over the folds of her pussy, she spread her legs wide. I was onto her clit quickly and worked it for about two minutes. My mouth and lips were coated with her moisture.

Did I really think I wouldn't get turned on? Do you really think Bill Gates is going to send you two hundred dollars every time you forward that stupid e-mail? I guess we can talk ourselves into anything. I was hard long before I pulled my mother's panties down and looked at her pussy. I was hard long before I tasted between her legs. And I was getting harder with every little crying sound she made as I tongued and mouthed that once forbidden place.

I started getting carried away, almost not realizing that it was my mom's pussy I was doing. I sucked the nub between my lips and gave it a firm rubbing with my tongue. Then all in one instant, she stiffened, raised her hips, and came with a scream that shocked the hell out of me. She just didn't know what hit her. She had two handfuls of my hair and was pulling as if that was what was giving her the orgasm. As it subsided I could see that it actually frightened her, and she raised herself, wide eyed and breathing hard.

I held her and she kept repeating, "OH honey...oh honey..."

When she relaxed a little, I said, "Was that good mom?"

She said, "Oh sweetheart, it was unbelievable..." She stroked my hair, "Oh baby, I pulled it so hard, did I hurt you...did I yell too loud?"

I laughed, "It's fine mom, yell as loud as you want. Now relax, and lie back, and this time enjoy it from beginning to end."

She wasn't sure about anything and said, "But...?"

"Relax," I told her, I'm going to make you come again."

She said, "Oh God," and went back to the position with her legs stretched apart.

The second time took her a little longer and she talked throughout, telling me how good it felt to have my tongue and lips and mouth on her. I couldn't help moving on the pole I was lying on as I sucked her. I only stopped long enough to say, "Mom, you have a beautiful pussy."

She responded with a whimper and I went back to slowly taking her to the crest of orgasm. The tender petals of her vagina opened to the prodding of my tongue. This time, she was more relaxed as I sucked and slathered her clit. She knew more of what to expect, so when she began to peak she said, "It's starting, oh...oh...it's coming baby...yes...yes...aieee..." The scream wasn't quite as loud, but it lasted a lot longer, and this time she was laughing when it was over. I must admit that I did take a certain pride knowing I was the first man to make my mother come.

When she was done she sat up and kissed me, and put her hand on me. I took out my straining cock and she wrapped her fist around the shaft as her tongue played inside my mouth. She looked down at my hardness and said, "Baby, do you want me to...?"

By then I was so turned on, I had no qualms saying what I was thinking, "Yes mom...take me in your mouth."

"Yes baby...yes..." She was already working to get my pants off. I leaned back and she bent over while on her knees on the bed and took my cock back into her hand. She said, "My love..." as she took the head and as much of the shaft as she could into her mouth.

I reached for her tit and after holding it a while I said, "Take your dress off mom." She lifted it over her head and reached back behind her bra. When her tits hung free, those glorious globes stiffened me even more. She saw how hard I was for her and she looked at me and smiled. She wasn't ashamed, she wasn't proud -she just looked happy.

As she leaned over to take me back into mouth, I took my mother's bare tit in my hand and I watched her going down on me. As I ran the smooth flesh around in my hand, the tip of her nipple felt thick and rubbery. I said, "You really do have beautiful breasts mom." Then I used the words I was really thinking as I cupped the heavy flesh, "Beautiful tits...beautiful tits...."

It was strange to be living a fantasy I'd never imagined. The thought, 'Mom is sucking me,' went around in my head and drove me up. As I felt her and she devoured me, I didn't know where to concentrate my thoughts. It hardly mattered because I didn't last much longer than my mother did the first time. I did, however know what to expect. After her mouth slid along my shaft a few more times I said, "Mom...I'm going to come," and pulled back just before the first jet released.

She was still on her hands and knees on the bed and I pushed my cock forward enough to avoid coming on her face. It hit her left breast. As the next spurt shot out, she put her fist over mine and positioned her mouth over the head. As I came, she sucked and I felt it with the intensity of the first spurt. She kept sucking until I finished, and then kept sucking long after.

I thought I was done, but it didn't take long for her sucking and hand massage to harden me up. I was just about getting lost in the sensations when I felt myself about to come again. It never happened that quickly before, but that was before my mother's tits were in my hand, and my mother's mouth was on my cock.

This time I didn't warn her. I only moaned and started to come. I came in my mother's mouth for the second time in ten minutes. She kept sucking and I kept coming. Then after the sweet release, she was in my arms again, her tits were in my chest, I was kissing her eyes and her face as her warm scented flesh pressed along my body. When I saw the smile on her face, I knew that things were not going to be as simple as I originally planned.

How silly to have thought, 'Just a kiss, just a touch, just a feel, just a lick, just a one-time thing.' I liked it too much; my mother liked it too much. We weren't going to stop. The thought that I wasn't going to have 'Real sex' with my mother had dissolved in the space of thirty minutes. It became an accepted inevitability. Stranger yet, it seemed like the most 'Natural' thing in the world.

Our mouths met and we were lovers. Not just the words I would say to her, but the words I was saying to myself, 'I love this woman, this woman who is my mother.' Before I entered her, before we made love, before we were physically joined, we were lovers.

As I brought my cock to her opening, my mother opened her legs wide and spread her folds with her fingers. As I penetrated her she wrapped her arms around me and her whimpered words were, "My Darling...I've been waiting for you...now you're in me, inside me...yes baby...yes."

It felt good. What words to use? 'So good, very good, wonderfully good, astonishingly good?' Nothing fits except me inside her. Nothing's right but my moving flesh in the grasp of hers. Nothing's true but our loving each other.

The lovemaking itself alternated between athletically fevered, to soft and gentle, and then back again. I pressed into her and she pressed back. The more of me she wanted, the more I gave her. We moved at cross-purposes and then we moved in sync. The rhythm fit the music of the sounds we made to tell each other what we felt. We felt, and we felt, and we felt.

Inside my mother's pussy, I understood a line from a song that seemed meaningless when I first heard it, "Speaking strictly for me, we both could have died then and there." How could anything be better than the love we were making at that moment? My mother pulled me from behind to lift more of herself onto my cock. She let out a long moan, and we stayed locked where I was completely in her depths.

"Baby...baby...baby..." I knew from the way she said it that she was about to come. I used my hips to spear rapidly into her. I followed the sensations of each inch of me as it slid into her velvet glove. My full length drove up into my mother's pussy until our union was complete. With each stroke she spread herself to take me inside her. The faster I did it, the more intense the buildup felt. That moment, that instant that's like no other, enveloped, and bound us together. The first explosive release brought a joyful "Yesss..." from my mother. "Oh my God, baby...baby...I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm coming..."

I released into her and with each penetration I knew I'd found the place I would always want to be, inside my mom. I came in her until I couldn't come any more. I know what others would call it, but I call it love. When we were spent and lying side-by-side, I put my hand over my mother's sopping pussy and gently stroked her.

"Darling boy," she said as she kissed me. I can't believe we're really doing this and how good you make me feel. Is this real baby? Do you love me? Is it really happening?"

"Yes mom," I told her. "I love you and it's happening, we're happening. I don't know how, but we're here." I held her warm body tight in my arms, and as we drifted off sleep, it filled my heart that I would wake to all the possibilities of mom and me.