Mom Always Loved Me Best

Mom always loved me best. That's what it came down to, I guess. She had married a young Midwest minister in hopes that his righteousness (and God's) could help her overcome some problems, but it didn't turn out that way. Marriage went well for a while, but after I was born, she and dad drifted apart. The more they drifted, the more important I became to her. Mom later said that she and dad never had much in common, anyway, plus she rebelled against the pressures put on a minister's wife. The "P's" she called it: perfection, propriety and primness. So she stayed home as much as possible. With me.

From an early age, I always had the fondest memories of my mother. She was fun and always had time for me. Dad would get up early and unlock the church office at 8, but mom liked to get up later, or drink coffee in bed. I would scoot into their bedroom as soon as dad left and crawl in bed next to mom. Most of the time mom had pajamas on, but in warm weather she just wore a short nightgown or what they used to call a "Baby Doll". She was a doll, too: slim body with a 34 "C" bust. Warm weather or cold, though, I was always welcomed when I innocently snuggled up next to her.

By the time I was 8 or 9, mama would spend the night in my bed sometimes. If Dad worked late, she would crawl in with me. On those nights I often fell asleep with my arm around her. Dad didn't appreciate mom sleeping with me, but she didn't stop. I heard them argue about it once. He said it "wasn't healthy." She said neither was not having sex.

Mom and I started tickling each other more often somewhere around the time I turned eighteen. I enjoyed making her squirm and laugh hysterically. I guess she just liked touching me. It was never sexual when she touched me, but I found my penis getting hard when I tickled her during these sessions. Mom was ticklish in all the usual spots, but my hands would stray all over her body as I tried to find new ones. More than once I slipped my hand into her panties, but it never seemed to tickle her that much, so I would move on to other parts of her body. There was something intriguing about her pubic hair, though, and I started to slip my hands inside mother's panties more often to investigate. Thinking back, she must have closed her legs if my hands strayed too far, because I never touched her intimately. I did run my fingers through her hair many times, though.

During one particular "tickle war" I switched from tickling my mother's inner thighs to tickling her panty crotch. Her laughter continued, but it was different, and she struggled to get away from me. I held her as best I could and continued tickling her, just fluttering my fingertips across the strip of fabric that covered her sex. I didn't know it at the time, but she had an orgasm. I DID know something was different. I heard her moan and gasp and she stiffened her body, then went limp. Then my mother kissed me awkwardly and went to her own bed, which was odd.

I sensed I had crossed a line when I tickled my mother's crotch. My mother's reaction underscored it. She didn't sleep with me for weeks. When dad left for some religious revival, she came back, though, and we had a big talk about love, marriage, men, women, sex-you name it. When we were through, I asked mama if I could give her another orgasm. She said "no" but after I pressed her and tickled her sides a little, just to get her laughing , she didn't object when I started to tickle her through her panties, which were slightly damp. The good thing about touching my mother through her panties was that no technique was needed. I just rubbed the softest area and soon mother was making "mmm' noises and rocking her ass in time with my fingers. She came with a whimper and gave me a big hug afterwards.

We repeated the same thing the next night. Inevitably, I wanted more. I wanted to take her panties off and touch her. It turned out to be so easy. Halfway into our new routine one night I just asked her if I could take her panties off. She said "yes" and even helped me. When I fumbled around with novice fingers, she helped me with a technique. Just cradle her clit with one finger on either side vibrate your fingers. I loved hearing my mother moan and seeing her body shake as I rubbed her wet clit. Some mothers may have regrets about getting sexually involved with their sons. Not mine. More than once I heard her fiercely say "I don't care what they say. It's probably good for you, but I KNOW it's good for me!"

Mom now took a great deal of interest in my dick. She measured me, jerked me off with a variety of strokes and even put my dick in her mouth a few times, just for size. The only problem was, we had to be careful about birth control.

I was sexually insatiable and my mom was a willing partner. I don't know if Dad knew, but I have to think he suspected something, because we carried on like lovers. I fucked my mother or had sex in every room in the house: While she held on to the sink, the basement stairs, both our bedrooms, the shower. Many evenings we watched TV while my father visited parishioners in the hospital or had wedding rehearsals or something. One of our favorite positions involved a narrow padded armchair. Mom would wear a dress or skirt or be in a bathrobe and straddle the chair (and me) for an hour or more while I played with her pussy and gave her orgasm after orgasm. Or, I entered her with my dick. Fewer orgasms resulted, but it was still good.

Speaking of orgasms, I remember going on a picnic with my mother once. It was a memorable picnic because I gave my mother three quick orgasms, the only time she achieved that number without a rest period of sorts in between orgasms. We were way out in the country and had spread a blanket. Mom said she was "frisky," so after lunch and a little wine she laid across my lap. I remember her wearing a tan colored skirt and white panties. I lifted her skirt above her waist and pulled her panties down to her knees. Mom said the sun felt good on her rear and gave her ass a little wiggle. My mother did have a shapely butt. Her round, pale cheeks were a delight to massage. I gave them lots of attention before moving on to her pussy. I don't remember specifics about my technique or what happened next. All I remember is teasing mom's pussy with my thumb while I rubbed her clitoris with my index finger and middle finger of my right hand. She came quickly, tried unsuccessfully to squirm away from my fingers and came again with a gasp, then pushed herself up on all fours and wiggled her butt while I did my best to continue with aching fingers. To help, I slipped my left hand inside her hanging blouse to pinch her nipples through her bra. That did it. She came violently, rocking her butt back and forth. A few minutes later I got a memorable blowjob. Being out in the sun, watching the tree branches sway in the wind and having your mom sucking your dick is something else!

Mom's 54 and re-married now. She and dad are still friends. Dad and I have a pretty good relationship, too, but I had to leave home to appreciate him a little more. Or grow up. Take your pick. Mom and I see each other a couple times a year, but don't always fuck. When we do, though, it's still good. Very good.