Mom and Her Friend

Mom and Her Friend (Part 2)

Kathryn M. Burke

Well, we did do it again--over and over again for the next several weeks. Of course, we had to be careful not to have Dad catch us; but, if I may say so, he was kind of clueless and had no idea what was going on. Look, don't get me wrong: I love my dad and think he's a great guy, but he's not the most observant person in the world. I guess it never occurred to him that his mom and his son would get it on in bed.

We tried all sorts of different positions--I think Mom was trying to educate me for when I'd get a girl of my own. She showed me there are all kinds of ways to fuse your body with a woman's. She said she liked "riding" a guy: that's when I lie flat on my back and she squats over me and stuffs my cock into herself. I loved that position because--well, because I just loved to see my naked mother bouncing up and down on my dick, her big breasts bouncing, her face glowing with excitement. And it's a good way for the female to do most of the work, since a lot of the time it's the guy who's putting in the energy to pound a girl, either in her pussy or her butt.

She also liked sixty-nine--and I thought it was great too. The first time we did it, I felt a kind of awe at getting such an up-close-and-personal look at that cleft of hers: I mean, that's where I'd crawled out of her twenty years ago! But I also learned to lick and nuzzle her so that she came twice or even three times before I finally shot my wad into her mouth. She always swallowed every drop. (She later admitted to me that she didn't actually like the taste of come, but she liked the

idea

of a guy's come in her mouth. It seemed deliciously naughty to her--and more so when it was her son's!)

We also did some "quickies," although I think they were more satisfying to me than to her. You know, guys, women take a lot longer to get aroused and to come than men do. But she indulged me, knowing that I was at the age when I needed to get my rocks off frequently and she didn't want me "abusing myself" (as she called it).

One time, Mom was standing at the kitchen sink washing dishes. I knew that Dad was outside puttering in the back garden--in fact, I could see him on his hands and knees digging away at weeds or something. Mom looked so--well, so

wifely

that I couldn't resist her. In some ways I felt she was

my

wife. So I just came up behind her, put my hands on her breasts (which I could feel pretty well even though they were covered by her bra and a thin housedress), and then slid one hand down her back and lifted up the hem of her dress.

Without stopping her washing, she said, "What do you think you're doing?"

I knew that tone of voice: she was just teasing me, and she really wanted me to go on.

"Oh," I said, "I just wanted to have some fun with you."

"Is that so? Well, I'm busy."

"Don't mind me. You just keep on doing what you're doing."

And I pulled her panties down to her knees, exposing her bare bottom.

Now don't get me wrong: I wasn't going to just plunge into her right then and there. That would be rude. As she'd told me numerous times, I had to make sure a girl is wet before I stuck my thing into her. That's just common courtesy. So I reached around to her front and put my hand on her sex. Well, she was a little wet, and I made sure she got a lot more wet!

And then I did something she may not have expected.

I reached over to the counter and squeezed out a little bit of dishwashing liquid onto my fingers. And then I coated her asshole with the stuff.

I saw her eyes get wide, as if saying, "Oh, you naughty boy!" Yeah, I guess it's pretty naughty to do anal sex on your mom while she's washing the dishes.

Remember, she was only an inch or two shorter than me. I had already learned you can't have sex standing up--especially "rear entry"--unless you're about the same height as your partner. I did have to scrunch down a bit, but only a little. Anyway, I stuffed my cock into her hole, and she gasped at the feel of it. She started washing those dishes more frantically as I thrust into her. With one hand I kept clutching her breasts while with the other I fingered her pussy. Meanwhile we could both see Dad out the window.

Well, you can guess what happened. I shot a gigantic load into her--but I kept fondling her sex, and she came only a little after me. She had to restrain herself, just letting out suppressed little cries as her climax washed over her. I knew she liked to make a lot of noise during her orgasms, and I felt bad that she had to hold it in; but I guess she felt that the sheer audacity of what we were doing was enough of a reward.

After I withdrew, I pulled her panties back up. She kind of glared at me over that, because they'd gotten all wet from the dishwashing liquid, my come, and maybe her fluids. After she finished with the dishes, she marched upstairs and changed her undies, tossing the soiled ones in the laundry hamper.

As I say, stuff like this went on for several weeks. But then, toward the end of July, when Dad was out running some errand or other, Mom sat me down in the living-room sofa and said, "Todd, we have to talk."

Oh, oh! A guy never wants to hear those words from his girl. (Okay, Mom's not really my girl, but you know what I mean.) It never bodes well.

I was actually shaking when I sat down next to her and said, "What is it, Mom?"

She heaved a big sigh, looked at me with a mixture of disapproval and regret, and said, "We need to stop this."

My heart sank. I knew exactly what she was talking about.

You gotta understand: this was the first time I'd ever had access to a woman, and I'd already gotten used to it. It's such a wonderful thing to be able to have sex whenever you want--and I thought I'd made sure to give Mom her share of pleasure too. She'd taught me a lot about what girls like, and I'd made her come dozens of times. Every time it was a thrill to watch her: it was such a heartwarming thing to see.

But now she was saying it all had to come to an end.

"Why, Mom?" I croaked with a dry mouth.

"Oh, Todd, you must know. First of all, it's not fair to your father. He's a good man, and I'd hate to have him hurt if he found out what we're doing."

"Sure, Mom, I understand that." I'd been feeling bad about my dad too.

"Second of all, you really need to find a girl of your own age."

"Oh, Mom, I really don't like any of the girls at school!"

"Have you tried to meet any?"

"Well, not a whole lot."

"I thought so. This fall, I want you to make a concerted effort to find someone. She doesn't have to be the love of your life--just someone you like and who likes you." I could practically hear her unspoken words:

And someone who'll spread her legs for you.

As I was digesting all this, my heart sinking lower and lower, Mom went on. "But in the meantime, I have an idea. There's a friend of mine--her name is Julia. She's about my age--maybe a year or two older. Her husband left her a little while ago, and she's been feeling a bit down. So I was wondering"--and at this point she reached over and touched my arm tenderly--"whether you might, um, keep her company now and then."

Mom didn't have to spell it out. Oh, man, she wanted me to go over and "service" (isn't that the word?) this friend of hers!

My eyes widened as I said, "Well, yeah, sure! Is she pretty?"

The look Mom gave me was pretty severe. "Yes, she's pretty--but where do you get off judging women just by their appearance?"

"I'm not, Mom! I just thought it would be nice if she was pretty. Do you have a picture of her?"

Sighing again, she reached over to the end table, snatched her purse, took out her smartphone, and began flipping through her file of photos.

"Here's one," she said. "It's a selfie I took of us a few months ago."

She showed me the picture. It was kind of hard to tell what Julia looked like, but she had a nice face (although she wasn't really smiling--just looking blankly at the camera). I couldn't tell what the rest of her looked like, but I figured I'd take my mother's word for it that she was fairly good-looking.

"You think she'd, um, want me?" I said.

Mom smirked. "Yes, I think she'll want you. At this point I think she'd want just about any man in her--"

In her bed.

"Gee, Mom, that doesn't make me feel very good."

"I didn't mean it that way. I just thought you two would have a nice time together. So, if it's okay with you, I'll talk to her about it."

I looked a little sheepishly at Mom. "Um, you're not gonna tell her about--us?"

"Are you crazy?" she said, glaring at me as if I was some kind of dope. "That's just about the last thing I'd say. I'll just tell her you're quite happy hanging out with older women."

"The only 'older woman' I've ever hung out with is you," I said with a chuckle.

"Yes, well, she doesn't need to know that."

Pretty soon Mom set up the meeting. After talking it over, the two women decided that I should head over to Julia's house for a nice romantic dinner. If I'd just gone over there to fuck her, that would make her feel like she'd hired a male prostitute or something. This way, it would seem like we were having a "date" that would end up--in the bedroom.

Even so, when I showed up at her house I could tell Julia was a bit nervous. I learned that her husband had left her more than a year ago, and that she'd not had any involvement with men in that time. My heart bled for her: already at my young age I couldn't imagine going so long without regular sex, or sex of any kind. It didn't surprise me that, when she opened the door for me, she had this look on her face that was part anger, part frustration, and part--well, alarm.

I couldn't help wrapping my arms around her and giving her a quick little kiss on the mouth. Her eyes widened in surprise, and then she blushed crimson. She looked better when she did that.

She was pretty--not as pretty as Mom, but not at all bad. She was just about Mom's height and quite slender, but I could tell that she had nice curves around the bust and bottom. She'd have been almost beautiful if she didn't frown so much.

I could smell something nice from the kitchen, and soon saw that she'd made a pot roast for me. I guess she thought I needed a lot of red meat before getting down to the main event! We didn't talk very much over dinner, although I think she was pleased at how much I ate. I didn't overdo it--you can't perform very well on a full stomach. But there was this undercurrent of tension--or maybe anticipation--because, no matter how normally we were trying to act, both of us knew we'd end up with our bodies intertwined.

She even insisted that I watch some dopey romantic comedy after dinner. It was still early, and she didn't want to go to bed at, like, 8 p.m. So we sat through the movie. The only nice things about it were some fairly nice displays of flesh on the part of the lead actress when she took her clothes off (which she did quite often). I sat on the couch with my arm around Julia, and after a long while she nestled against me, starting to feel comfortable.

But when the movie was over and I said, "Shall we go upstairs?" she got all nervous again.

Instead of blushing, she seemed to go white, staring at me as if I was a ghost. Getting up stiffly, she walked like a zombie upstairs to the second floor, where the master bedroom was. When I followed her, I saw that she was heading toward a room that had a king-size bed in it. Very nice for two people wanting to make out, but ridiculously big for one smallish woman all by herself. But I guess she couldn't bear the thought of giving up the bed where (I figured) she'd had lots of sessions with her husband over the years.

She turned her back to me while undressing--and took her time about it. She was quick enough to remove her shoes, skirt, and blouse, but when it came to reaching behind herself to take her bra off, she paused for quite a while. I was almost wondering if she wanted me to do it, but then she finally unclasped the bra and shimmied out of it. I couldn't see much of her chest, but there was definite promise there. She took even longer to peel her panties off, but at last she did it in a rush, tossing them away into a corner of the room. Then she turned around.

I of course had undressed in no time, and I was pretty hard. When she saw my thing, she let out a gasp. Either she'd forgotten what a cock looked like (not likely) or my cock was bigger than her ex-husband's. With wide eyes she walked slowly toward me and took it in her hand, tugging it this way and that for some reason. I just stood there, taking in her own nudity. She did have nice breasts, but they were pretty far apart, unlike my mom's; and she had only a modest amount of fur over her delta.

We just stood there, Julia holding onto my cock and staring at me. It was like we were frozen in time.

At last she said, "You want me to...?" I guess she was saying, "You want me to get on my knees and suck your cock?"

Mom had told me that some women find that position too submissive, even degrading. I don't know why: I'd be happy to get down on my knees and lick a girl. I kinda wished I'd done that to Mom, but I never got the chance.

"That would be nice," I said.

She made a little face, but went ahead and fell to the floor. At first she only put the first inch or so of my dick into her mouth, and somehow I got the impression she didn't like this procedure. I almost wanted to say,

Lady, you'd better get with the program! Almost any man you meet will want you to give him some oral attention.

But presently she got into the spirit of things, tickling my balls and especially playing with my butt while she licked me. Women really do like a good male butt, and I hope mine was nice for her.

After a few minutes she decided she'd had enough--and she actually led me over to the bed, still holding onto my cock as if it was some really short leash. It's like she didn't want to let go of it, lest it fly away, leaving her lonely and disappointed. But I wasn't going anywhere!

I decided to put her at ease in the best way I knew: I'd get her off first.

Mom had said that it's super-gentlemanly of a man to bring a woman to climax before he satisfies himself, so I figured I'd do that to her to make her feel special. As she got onto the bed and lay down on her back, spreading her legs, I jumped on and plunged my face into her sex. She was surprised at that, letting out a little "Oh!" I got right down to business, licking and nuzzling the whole area (which got wet incredibly fast) and taking her butt in my hands. Sometimes I reached up to grab her breasts. Once I looked up at her and saw that she was staring at me as if she couldn't believe what was happening. After more than a year, a man was actually servicing her!

Well, I got her to come pretty fast. Her face got all scrunched up, almost as if she was in pain, and then she made weird little choking cries from deep in her throat. She'd draped her legs on my back, and now she started kicking me uncontrollably while she kept repeating over and over again, "Oh, God! Oh, God!" But it was all kind of restrained. I think she was one of these women who feel embarrassed to have an orgasm in a man's presence--or maybe she still couldn't get over the fact that a guy she'd only met a few hours ago (and who, being the son of one of her close friends, could have been her own son) was pleasuring her.

Anyway, she enjoyed the experience pretty well. From my time with Mom I'd learned how to extend a woman's climax for quite a while, and I put that knowledge to use. After five or ten minutes, I could see that Julia was almost crying with ecstasy--maybe a few tears actually leaked out of her eyes. Finally she sort of collapsed and pushed my head away from her pussy, curling up into a ball and breathing hard as if she'd run a marathon.

I waited for her to recover. Women don't like a man to plunge right into them after they've come--you have to give them a little time. After a while Julia did uncurl herself and lie flat on her back with her legs open, basically saying,

You can go into me now.

And I did. Somehow the feeling wasn't quite as fabulous as it was when I went into Mom (certainly not that first time)--but it was pretty good! I didn't want to pound her as if she was a piece of meat: that would be rude and disrespectful. In fact, I tried to "make love" to her, pretending that she was my longtime girlfriend or wife or something like that. I kissed her tenderly on her mouth, cheeks, neck, and even her eyes--and she got really turned on when I stuck my warm, thick tongue into her ear. I stroked her body all over too, but gently and lovingly. It was a fine session, and I showed my appreciation for her beauty and appeal by sending a big wad of come into her.

When I pulled out, I rolled over and landed on my back. But I wanted to convey to her that we weren't yet done, so almost immediately I took hold of her and placed her on top of me. She seemed to like that. (Much later she told me she'd gotten really annoyed with her husband for the number of times he'd fuck her and then just go right to sleep.) So we cuddled a bit, and I kneaded her back and bottom while she rested her head in the crook of my neck.

That firm, round bottom gave me some ideas--well, one in particular. I'd gotten hard again, and Julia had noticed it. I think she was getting ready to roll over onto her back again, but I whispered in her ear: "Could I go into your butt?"

She froze in place, then gave me this venomous look. "You want to do what?" she said, as if I'd suggested tattooing my name onto her pussy.

I got flustered. "I--I just thought you might like to--"

"What could possibly give you that idea?"

Man, she was angry! Like a dope I said, "I guess you haven't done it before?"

"No. Have you?"

"Um, well, yes. With one--girl." What could I say? There was no way I could tell her,

Yeah, I've stuck my dick up my mom's derrière.

"And she liked it?" she said incredulously.

"She'd done it before."

That somehow made her even more angry, as she must have thought of some dissipated young coed who'd let me and maybe lots of other men do this unspeakable deed.

"It's really not so bad," I pleaded.

"For whom, may I ask?"

"Well, okay, it might hurt at first, but you'll get used to it."

"Oh, will I?"

"Yeah. You sure you don't want to try?"

She continued to glare at me. I could almost see steam coming out of her ears. But then, with a kind of weary defeat, she said, "All right."

I couldn't believe my ears. "You mean it?"

"Why not? Go ahead."

I got the sinking feeling that she was only agreeing because she was afraid I wouldn't keep on coming back into her bed if she didn't. It's like she was thinking:

Jesus Christ, look at the disgusting things I need to do to keep a man's cock happy.

Well, whatever it was, I jumped at the chance. Muttering "Gotta get some lube," I pushed her off of me, toddled over to the bathroom, fetched some cold cream, and came back to the bedroom. She was lying on her stomach--and when she saw the cold cream she raised one eyebrow skeptically.

"That's what you're going to use for lube?"

"Yeah, it works pretty well."

With a sigh she buried her face in the pillow, so she wouldn't have to look at what I was doing. When I applied the stuff, she actually giggled like a girl and wiggled her butt a little. I did the job thoroughly, then got into position.

I draped myself over her backside, then directed my cock into the spot. When I got no more than an inch of it in, she let out a huge gasp and said, "Ow-ow-ow!"

"Hey, hey, Julia, you gotta relax," I urged.