Madeline. It's about Madeline as much as it's about my mother or me. Mod-len. That's how she pronounced it. She would make me say it over and over. Madeline was our neighbor and my mother's friend for as long as I could remember. My mother was the only one allowed to call her Len or Lennie.
Madeline was the mother of Sharon who was six months older than I. Madeline and Sharon lived four doors down; they were there before Paul came to live with my mother, and after he left. They were there when I was unexpectedly born in that house three weeks before my mother was due. My mother always tells how Madeline helped keep her and me alive until the doctor came.
When I was fourteen Madeline and mom went into business together as travel and convention consultants for corporations. Once the business was off the ground, they traveled quite a bit leaving Sharon and me together for as much as a week at a time. We spent all that time together which many times leads to 'things' but in our case we only became good friends. Besides my mom she was about the only person I ever spoke to seriously.
I felt comfortable enough with Sharon to tell her of the feelings I was developing for my mother, feelings that had developed slowly over time and circumstances. Mom and I lived in an old house that had only one full bathroom and the door was never locked. We'd knock and if one of us was in the shower and the other needed something, it was always, "come in..."
The glass shower doors distorted things enough for privacy but not enough to prevent ideas. I'd seen the shape, the curves, the dark and the light. I didn't think much of it until I got older...then I thought about it all the time.
When I thought of her as 'Carol' I could imagine she wasn't my mother...just a girl a bit older that I might look longingly at... a woman I might one day kiss, or more. After a while I dispensed with the subterfuge. I couldn't kid me; she was my mother and I wanted her.
The summer I went to a camp where I worked part of the time was a pivotal time in my life. For weeks I was away from mom. I remember the dress she wore the first weekend I went back home. It was knit and it showed off her terrific body. It was the first time I was overt with her. I said, "Mom, you look so hot in that dress; can I take your picture?"
She said, "Of course, honey."
I got the camera and she sat on the couch sideways with her legs one behind the other. I was excited enough to say, "Mom...could you pose...you know...sexy?" she smiled and hiked the dress up higher onto her thighs and pulled the top to reveal more cleavage.
She gave me a wink and said, "Don't show this to all the boys now...this is only for you." I said of course but I did show it to one of the boys telling him it was my aunt. I made up all kinds of stories for his and my amusement about how she posed for me and let me touch her. Mostly I kept it in my wallet and looked at it to feed the fantasies about my mother that made me come.
It was a few years after that when I finally spoke openly to Sharon and told her about my sexual feelings for my mother. Her response was accepting and caring as always, but still disconcerting. She looked at me confused and said, "Well Billy I guess you can't help the way you feel...I mean I know that your mom goes out with men sometimes but I always thought that she and my mom...you know..."
I looked at her like she was nuts. Know...know what? Her mother and my mother...what the hell was she talking about? Sharon saw that the thought had never crossed my mind and she said, "Look Billy I don't know anything for sure... maybe it's just my imagination..."
"Why would you say it then?" I asked.
"Well, the way they are with each other...you know, the way they look at each other and...oh it doesn't matter...it is whatever it is."
It mattered. I couldn't stop thinking about it. Obviously, Sharon was a lot more perceptive than I was because it wasn't long after that talk that everything left the realm of speculation.
I had only moved out of the house three months before the world turned upside down. My first job was a long drive from the old house and I was struggling too much with my sexual feelings towards my mother to remain in such close proximity to her. That didn't stop me from dropping in unannounced that day.
After using my key, and before I knew what was happening or even what I was seeing, I heard Madeline's voice. "Don't you knock...don't you call?" I stood there looking at a woman bent over the small table that usually had pictures on it. She was tied and her ass was exposed.
All I could say when my startle reflex passed was, "Mm...mom?"
My mother turned her head, not able to see me completely. "Oh God...Billy"
Madeline said to me, "We'll you're here...you might as well come in...this has more to do with you than you might think Billy-boy." She called me that often...probably because she knew I didn't like it.
So even though the first time I saw my mother in a sexual position wasn't the first time I'd seen her naked, it certainly was the first time I'd seen her tied and bent over a table. Her ass looked showcased because her navy blue skirt was down to her thighs yet held up by her spread legs and her matching top was still on. Her creamy skin almost glowed between the dark materials.
Madeline said, "You know we've had lots of talks, your mom and me...lots...about you...and lots of things." I didn't know what the hell she was talking about but I couldn't keep my eyes from the sight of my mother's naked flesh. Madeline was holding a short riding crop. She touched it to my mother's ass and said, "Like what you see Billy-boy?"
I didn't answer her but I said, "Are you okay mom?"
"I'm okay honey." Her voice was softer than usual.
Madeline gave her a quick snap with the crop across both globes and said "Shut up." My mother's "ohhh..." elicited an unsympathetic response.
I yelled "Hey!" and started walking toward them and said, "I'll untie you mom."
Madeline stepped between us and said, "Don't."
I guess I started to understand when my mother quietly added, "No baby, don't."
"I thought I told you to shut up." Madeline said as she gave my mother another swat with the crop. I watched with hardening fascination as Madeline spread my mother's cheeks with the fingers of one hand and inserted a finger of the other into the small opening.
When my mother moaned and said "Billy..." Madeline bent over and bit her fleshy bottom. This brought a louder cry from my mother.
Madeline raised her voice with each word as she said, "Speak when you're spoken to." She then raised the crop and delivered a snap with her wrist on the flesh that now had pink accents. This of course made my mother yell louder, which of course was what Madeline wanted, which of course led Madeline to strike her again...which of course was exactly what my mother wanted.
It was a side of my mother I'd only seen hints of. I wasn't sure what I even felt about it. As she stood exposed and vulnerable, I wanted to protect her...and I wanted to fuck her. The choice was made by Madeline; she turned to me and said, "Come here you drooling dog. You want to fuck your own mother don't you...you want to be a real mother-fucker don't you?"
I was amused by Madeline and stimulated by my mother so I played along. "Yes ma'am I do."
"The bitch told me you had a good-looking cock...take it out."
I unzipped and fought to get the hardened meat out of my pants. When I let go, it was fully erect.
Madeline laughed, "Well I guess we know what you think about this whole thing don't we Billy-boy?" She looked at my cock for a moment and then said, "The bitch was right; it is a nice cock...if cocks are your thing. I know the bitch likes them, so give her a taste Billy-boy."
I walked around the table and put my cock inches from my mother's mouth. She turned towards Madeline and said, "Please don't make me do this...he's my son...don't make me suck his cock...please Madeline...I'm begging you."
It wasn't until later that I found out about 'safe words' and understood that my mother could have stopped it all at any time. All I knew then was that my mother's beautiful mouth was right near my cock and the thought that she might suck me fogged me over. Madeline slapped her across the ass and said, "Say 'ahhh' bitch." My mother opened her mouth and closed her eyes.
She sucked me, then she sucked me and moaned, and then she sucked me and wriggled all over the table. I wasn't thinking at the time or I would have realized that she wasn't sucking like a woman being forced to suck her son's cock, she was sucking like a mother that wanted nothing but more of her son's cock in her mouth.
It was surreal. My cock was actually in my mother's mouth and the voice in my head kept asking me if I was dreaming or fantasizing. I wasn't; those were her lips around my cock and that was her tongue massaging my shaft.
Madeline was watching and the sound of her voice betrayed her excitement even though her words tried to hide it. My mother was sucking frantically and Madeline could tell that I was close to coming when she said, "Hold on Billy-boy, there's a pussy waiting for you."
