I can still vividly remember my mother’s nude body hovering over me yesterday as we exchanged oral sexual favors to climax. I was like a rock music star suddenly exposed to all of this wealth and fame. I was still mesmerized by all of the sudden changes in my life, and I loved it. My cock got hard just thinking about all of the new pleasures I was experiencing.
As I lay there dreaming about my newly found sexual Utopia, the door to my bedroom eased open. Of course, I knew it was Mom, but I acted surprised anyway.
“Mom!” I cried, “It’s you.”
“And who did you expect? Britney Spears?” she said cheerfully.
“No,” I replied honestly. “I much prefer you. Britney is all glamour and glitter. Her ego would consume me in no time.”
“If I understand you correctly, Charlie,” she surmised, “you prefer me because I’m easy, right?”
“Don’t sell your self short, old girl,” I replied. “You’re a beautiful, sexy woman, and you’ve already introduced me to pleasures I never knew existed. Not many people in my position are lucky enough to be able to say that truthfully.” I know, it sounds like a bunch of bullshit, but I meant every word.
“Sure you did,” Mom said patronizingly, “now eat your breakfast before it gets cold.”
“I’d rather eat you, Mom, because you’re hot.” My wishful thinking was running rampant now.
“Careful Charlie,” she said calmly. “There’s a time and a place for everything.” She had placed my breakfast on the adjustable table designed for this purpose. Still, moving it into position caused her to brush up against my bed. She was still in her dressing gown, but the fragrance from her body told me she had just taken a bath.
“You smell especially nice this morning. Did you do that for me?”
“It’s nice to know someone cares enough to notice,” she said while busying herself with the breakfast table. “Now eat your breakfast.”
I couldn’t resist the temptation. I raised my hand slowly and caressed her full round bottom.
“Charlie,” she exclaimed, “control yourself.”
“So round, so firm, so fully packed,” I mused openly as I continued to stroke her buttocks. “You’ve got a nice ass, Mom.” “Charlie,” she huffed. “Behave yourself now.”
I noticed she had not pulled away from the bed and out of my reach like she so easily could have done to avoid my advances. In fact, I think she discreetly turned more toward me as if to offer herself.
I’m a lot of things, but I’m no fool. I cautiously raised my hand and parted the opening of her gown. There was no sign of anything under her gown but her. I saw smooth white thighs and eventually the beginnings of her pubic hair patch. My erection was pressing firmly against the bottom of the bed table. My hand continued to the sash holding her gown in place, and with one almost unnoticeable tug, I freed the restraint.
“Charlie,” she whispered almost hoarsely, “you’re breakfast is getting cold.”
“How’s your temperature?” I asked.
She didn’t answer. Instead she reached out and grasp my hard on through the bed sheet. I moved my hand toward her crotch, but she stopped me. I held my breath.
“Do these first,” she said softly as she shrugged the dressing gown from her shoulders and let it drop to the floor. She stood before me displaying the two most beautiful breasts I had ever seen. She leaned forward causing these majestic orbs to dangle tantalizingly close to my face.
All I could see was a gorgeous nipple swaying before my eyes. I steadied it and carefully took the obviously rigid nipple into my mouth. She squeezed my cock rather firmly, and moaned sensually in response to my tongue massaging her sizeable nipple. All this while my other hand was busy with her other breast. My pulsating tool was screaming for relief.
Arousal was definitely clouding my awareness, but I could vaguely feel Mom’s free hand tugging at my sheet. Both of my hands were occupied, but I could feel my body rising and falling against the hand clutching my cock. I was afraid I was going to orgasm way ahead of schedule.
Then Mom took my hand, the one holding the breast I was suckling, and moved it to her crotch. Her heavy breathing was obvious when she spoke.
“But at least two fingers in my pussy, Charlie. Just inside and at the top of my vaginal chute you will find my go button. Massage it with your fingers, and you’ll make me hotter than I am right now. Then massage my clitoris with your thumb, and I will surely fill your hand with my liquid appreciation of your attention.” Her heavy breathing almost prevented clear speech, but it became apparent that she was through talking anyway. She powered her mouth to my, and for the first time in my life I kissed this woman, not as a mother, but as a very aroused lover.
My hand was at her pussy following her instructions to the letter while our mouths were sealed at the lips and our tongues were keeping tempo to the movement of our hands. I knew I was on the verge of climax, and judging from the sound of Mom’s melodic prelude to orgasm, I was fairly sure we were going to celebrate this glorious event together.
It was my intention, being raised to be a gentleman, to let the lady go first, but Mother Nature could really care less about social protocol. My salvo of the white stuff was impressive indeed. Mom pumped harder causing my contribution to our celebration go in every direction, but she could not be concerned with my aim. At that moment she was giving up her juices in abundance. As she predicted, my hand was filling to capacity with proof of her satisfaction of our efforts.
“Whew.” She exclaimed as the flow of our juices ebbed, “that was a doozey.” She stood by the bedside naked as the day she was born with her beautiful breasts rising and falling in sheer splendor. She was still holding what was left of my erection, but we both knew that soldier was ready to retire. She bent forward and kissed me again; tongue play and all.
“Now, eat your breakfast, young man,” she said sternly.
“I’d rather eat your pussy,” I said quite honestly.
“Hush now,” she scolded while her cheeks were still flushed, and her chest was still showing signs of labored breathing. “Besides,” she said with a wicked expression on her face, “I don’t want scrambled eggs and bacon cluttering up my crotch.”