The First Time with Mom

I'm going to relate the tale of how my mother and I crossed the boundary between mother and son and woman and man. How we became lovers in fact as well as in our minds. Discovering and exploring the passion that existed between us and how we acted on it. And the consequences.

Let me set the scene for you. At the time, I was 28 and my mother was 46. I was her firstborn. By that point, she had birthed nine children. Being a typical Irish Catholic woman, she had those children between the age of 18 and 27. One set of twins along the way. Now, being Catholic and of Irish descent, you might think all those pregnancies were a matter of duty. The truth is, my mother truly enjoyed sex. That was a running family joke about how she got all those children. A joke fueled by many children in a home with thin walls.

At the time, I was on extended leave from my military unit, stationed in Germany. I considered it going home for a visit, even though it wasn't the home I grew up in. By that point, my sisters and brothers had all reached the stage in life where they had moved out. Mom and Dad had actually gotten divorced a few years before, so she was living alone. As she was fond of saying about my father, she loved the man but just couldn't live with him.

My mother was a tremendously fine artist. So much so that was how she supported herself. Doing mountain scenes and landscapes for sale in various galleries and restaurants around the area. With a steady stream of commissions, she was able to make a pretty decent living. She had a cozy cottage suited well to her artistry and isolated from neighbors to give her privacy. Something we came to appreciate. Her cottage had an extra bedroom that became mine for my stay.

From the moment I had arrived home, I would wake up about 8:30, throw on a pair of shorts, grab a cup of coffee for both myself and her and go into her bedroom where she actually had her artists' workspace. As she said, she sometime got inspired in the middle of the night, and she surely didn't want to have to lose that inspiration to get dressed. She admitted that wearing a nightgown to sleep wasn't her usual practice. Usually she might work on her artistry totally nude.

So I would bring her a cup of coffee and then sit on her bed watching her paint. And yes, watching her lovely round ass as it moved around under her just at the edge of modesty pink nightie. The fabric of her nightie was that just on the edge of translucency, so if you looked hard enough you could see the suggestion of her skin through the cloth. It was a modest length to her knee, with a couple of spaghetti straps holding it up. As she had told me about painting in the nude, I would admit that one of my favorite imaginings was of sitting on her bed watching her do exactly that.

For me, it was a wonderful time. I had always loved watching her paint. While I had a good sense of color and eye to appreciate what she could do. Her talent would never cease to amaze me. Imagining her doing it in the nude made it even more fun.

Her delightful shape that was hinted at through her nightie gave me a lot of pleasure as I watched her each morning. With naughty, explicit fantasies playing in my head, like movies on a separate little reel. Wondering what the globes of her ass would feel like under my hand? Or what her lips would taste like? Or the sound she would make if I raised her gown and pulled her back to sit on my hard cock? And many more variations to numerous to list. Fantasies that became a reality over the next several weeks and that I still take great pleasure in today.

After about an hour, she would start to get a little stiffness in her neck from the work she was doing. Years earlier, I had learned the art of massaging her neck and shoulders and it seemed that even at 28 I hadn't forgotten that skill. So when she started rubbing her neck, I would stand and apply that skill to her neck and shoulders. Her little moans of pleasure told me she appreciated the attention.

Like all the mornings before, I was careful to stand far enough back from her so that she wouldn't brush up against my erection. I figured that having fantasies about her was okay, but I'd probably be too embarrassed if she found out about them. Thinking, of course, that she hadn't actually noticed. Or that she didn't share her own cascade of desires and fantasies. How silly I was.

I had been rubbing her neck and shoulders for perhaps 15 minutes. She had been rewarding me with moans of pleasure and that movement that said she was relaxing. I don't know where the skill came from that day, but I put all my attention into making her feel wonderful. I suppose the fantasies I've been having about her were fueling my efforts and, in truth, I was trying to seduce her without any real hope that I would succeed. But I knew I could give her real pleasure with my massage on her neck. So I put my focus on finding every point of pleasure on her neck and shoulders.

Though my mother and I remember the details slightly differently, we both agree it was like we hit a tipping point. That our bodies, which had been under our control, suddenly were not. We've never been able to agree on a chronology that decided who moved first. Just that once we took that first step, there was no stopping it.

What I know is my hands moved off her shoulders and down her chest to her breasts. As if my hands had a life and mind of their own. On the end of her full breasts, I discovered nipples that were rock hard beyond my power to describe. And quite large. At the same exact moment, she stepped back into my body. Seeking to press herself up against me. Of course, the first thing she pressed up against was my swollen cock. Bulging large through my rather thin shorts. That didn't slow her down. If anything, she pushed harder so that someone pressed fully her ass up against my erection.

You have to understand that I was not inexperienced with women. I was 28 not 18. But I swear I never knew that my mother was one of those women who would go off if you pinched her nipples. But something told me to pinch them. Perhaps a buried memory from childhood living in a home with very thin walls.

So I gave her nipples just a little exploratory tweak, and she nearly melted against me. Pressed her ass against my cock so hard I swear it was going to tear through my shorts and into her backside. And cum in my shorts as well.

Imagine my rather large 6'4'frame wearing just a pair of running shorts with her lovely rounded 5'8" nestled safely and firmly in my arms. Grinding and sliding and moving together as we stoked the fires of passion. With my face buried in her neck and drinking in the scent of her body.

A few seconds later, I pinched her nipples again, only this time a bit harder. Still a bit tentative to see how and if she was going to respond. The pinching set her off even more and I had to struggle to keep from falling over as she pressed against me so hard.

A few seconds later, I did the obvious. I took her two rock hard nipples between my thumb and forefinger and I squeezed. I pinched her nipples hard and did not let up. I was rewarded with my mother convulsing in a powerful orgasm while I cradled her in my arms. Like the good Catholic woman she was she kept exclaiming " Oh My God, Oh MY God, OH MY GOOODDD!!!!" as the spasms tore through her body. Her spasm nearly caused me to explode in my shorts as well. But somehow I managed to hold on while she was shaking uncontrollably in my arms.

When I let up on her nipples, her tremors slowly subsided. As we regained the ability to move, she turned in my arms and wrapped herself fully against me. I ran my hands up and down her body. Reveling in the roundness and feel of her ass in my hands. I reached up and grabbed the spaghetti straps of her gown. With a little shrug of her shoulders to assist, I pulled them apart and let her gown slide to the floor. Years of imagining could not compare to the reality of the feel of my mother naked in my arms.

At the same time, she found the tie string of my shorts. One quick pull of the tie string made sliding the elastic over my hips an easy task. With my jutting cock pressing into her belly, we both took a moment to just revel in the feel of each other's flesh against the other.

Our lips locked together while our tongues fenced for possession of each other's mouth. Probing as deeply as we could while we shared the feel and taste of each other. The scent of her body was in my nostril and in my brain. The taste of her was on my lips. My hands played up and down her body, reveling in the feel of her skin.

At the same time, her hands were exploring me. AAll over my chest and repeatedly stroking through my chest hair. Down the front of my chest and belly, her hands danced until she found my cock. Her hand gently but thoroughly explored my member as if it was some precious undiscovered treasure. As she explored my cock, she made one interesting comment. That passed totally over my head at the time. In a voice that spoke of wonder and delight at her discovery. With her hand wrapped as far around my cock as it would reach, she said. "You're just the same size as my father."

My body was on autopilot, but it was doing just fine. In the course of our groping exploration and fondling of each other, I had turned us around so that her legs were pressed up against the edge of her bed. Then I pushed her backwards, so she fell on her back. Her legs scissored open to give me a full view of a beautiful brown bush with a swollen pinkish red slit peering out of the foliage. Just what I liked.

I paused for a short time to just take in the sight of her. I've told you she was 46. Her skin was that Irish pale that only comes from generations of breeding. Her breasts were full pale globes capped with hard and prominent nipples. Large areolas that spoke of the many children that had nursed there, including me. What I consider perfection in women's beauty was clearly visible between her legs.. Her public bush was full and dark. Not an overgrown Forest but definitely not an over trimmed manicured hedge. The sight of such a bush makes me want to dive in and feast and immediately ram myself deep inside of it. Hard to do both, but easy to do in your mind.

She saw my gaze and just let me drink her in. She was enjoying the sight of me as well, but she turned a little so I could get the full effect. And I could see in her bush a pinkish red slit. Not overly large, but prominent to see through such a bush and clearly wet and ready.

But at that point, I was already too hungry for her to spend much time feasting with my eyes alone. She was clearly as hungry as I and inviting me to do a lot more than just look.

Her face spoke volumes, though she said nothing. On her face, and I suppose her posture spoke of overpowering desire and lust and need and welcome. I lowered my knees to the bed and dropped forward so that my body hovered above hers on my hands and knees.

My cock pointed directly towards her slit at about 12" away. I thought then and still believe that I had never been as hard. I throbbed and I was so hard I hurt. I could feel the pumping pressure in my balls and to this day I don't know how I didn't just drench her belly with my cum.

The scent of sex and arousal was all around us. Mom always claimed that it was the scent of my body that pushed her over the edge. That she could have resisted anything else, but that the scent of me made that impossible.

Her aroma was equally powerful for me. I could smell her body, I could smell her pussy and the arousal and the wetness that was around me with what had to be clouds of powerful pheromones.

We paused in place for just a second. My mother looked up at me with a very clear eye and a look on her face that made clear this was a serious statement.. She asked me quite calmly. "I'm fertile right now. Do you want to stop?"

I gave her my answer by lowering my cock towards her waiting pussy. Her hand grasping me and guiding me until the tip of my cock contacted her very wet slit. She rubbed the head of my cock in her slippery slit a few times. Watching the pleasure play across her face as my swollen cock head rubbed against her clit. Finally, settling the tip of my cock firmly at the snug entrance to her pussy.

I was supporting my weight on my hands. Mom whispered, "Come Closer" in my ear as her embrace tightened to pull me full on top of her. Unlike many women, she wanted that full weight of a man as he entered her. I admit the feel of her body pressed hard against me was intense.

Our lips met in a tender kiss. Soft and yet so passionate. After a few moments of very erotic and tender kisses a few moments she whispered just one word. "Yes". And with that one command or request, I started to push my cock into my mother.

Mom's passage, which had passed the heads of nine children, was as snug as any woman I have ever penetrated. I almost expected to hear the cry of a virgin surrendering her hymen, instead I just heard a long moan as my fat 7" cock sank inexorably into her depths. Our sounds were a duet. Because as she moaned as her passage stretched to welcome me, I matched her moans with my own deeper groan as I felt that tightness sliding up the length of my swollen cock.

In a smooth motion, I reached bottom and pressed hard into her and then started to slide outward once again. Her sighs and moans in my ear while my own were in hers. The exquisite feeling of her tight cunt gripping me as I withdrew until just the head of my cock stood poised at the entrance once again.

Then a much more powerful thrust like re-entrance as she pushed up to take me as fast as I pushed down to fill her. With accompanying cries getting louder and faster as our pace increased.

Her snug passage gripped me and squeezed me as I slid in and out of her. Like a musical instrument being played by an eager and skilled musician, the more vigorously I pushed inside of her, the louder her music became. With her body shuddering and her repeated "OH MY GOD" she pulled me closer as I pushed as deep as I could.

This was unadulterated passion and desire unleashed. What we often euphemistically call making love was pure, unbridled fucking. No need for finesse or technique. Just fuck her deep and hard as she fucked me back. Drive my cock deep into my mother's body while she opened and drove herself against me to take me as deep as she could. Years of subliminated desire expressed in a few explosive minutes.

We quickly pushed each other over the top. Pounding together as we climbed that huge wave of passion and release together. Screaming incoherently at the top of her lungs and her clutching me in the steel grip of her arms and legs. Triggering my own explosion punctuated by deep loud grunts that marked each jet of fire, I spurted deep and repeatedly inside her now well fucked hole.

Regardless of my desire and passion I was not unaware of the reality that I could be impregnating my mother. The truth is, I was excited and not deterred by the possibility. I remember the clear thought as my semen jetted from my cock deep inside her body that I could be impregnating my own mother. The idea only made me thrust harder and spurt harder.

She told me later that she had a similar thought when she reached that final explosive orgasm. She told me she imagined my sperm swimming inside of her and finding her eggs. That thought triggered her final orgasm as I released my jets deep inside of her with a mighty grunt.

We lapsed into that post coital state which might not be unconsciousness but is a real challenge to do other than just rest in the arms of your lover. After about 15 minutes, I tried to take my weight off her, but she insisted on a compromise where we just rolled on our sides but stayed embedded inside of her.

Still stone hard and fully embedded in her, I could feel her pussy quivering and spasming in aftershocks around my cock. I admit it wasn't long before I was adding a few little pushes and spasms of my own to hear her squeal with pleasure.

As you might imagine, our passion reignited quickly. In that position, we had more opportunity to explore and enjoy various nuances of being together. I discovered that my mother enjoyed kissing just as much as I do. She insisted I must have gotten it from her. Though later pillow talk revealed it had an earlier origin.

Still buried deep inside of her, we kissed intensely, exploring every crevice we could find. Our hands wandered at will. I couldn't resist playing with her breasts and with her nipples and was rewarded when I stimulated them and finally pinched them with her having a mighty orgasm while I just rested there, enjoying the feel of her pulsing spasmodically on my cock.

That set us off again. And I started riding in and out of her drenched but still snug passage. With her moans sounding in my ear and her clutching me as I drove into her deeply. The inevitable sound of squishing as I thrust and rode my own semen as deep as I could inside of her.

Our passion was still way too high for any prolonged lovemaking. Every push made us push harder until we were driving ourselves together in a frenzy. Her orgasms crashing one upon another and finally triggering me to explode with a mighty grunt as I emptied myself once again into my Mother. And we passed once again into that sweet malaise that comes from total release.

There's no doubt in my mind that we would have spent the afternoon and evening making love without a care in the world. But suddenly Mom's eyes sprang open, and she announced. Your sister's coming to lunch, and she will be here in 5 minutes. You'll just have to imagine the keystone cops scene as I pulled out of her and scooted down the hall to my room to do a quick clean and find something to hide the look of a man who had just thoroughly fucked his own mother.

Mom did what moms have done forever and in 5 minutes she transformed herself from a totally well fucked woman into a quite proper looking 46-year-old mother. Of course, I knew my semen had to be leaking out of her without realizing she'd had the foresight to slip a sanitary pad in her panties. But that thought made my cock start to grow once again and I tried unsuccessfully to shift my thinking to something less stimulating. I failed but I tried. Remember now I'm still only 28.

Her hair was brushed and her sundress was bright and well pressed. I stood close to her and took a sniff and as best as I could tell she smelled proper without any noticeable whiff of passion at all. Luckily for us it was my older sister who I had reason to believe would understand if she caught us. But that was not a decision to be made in 5 minutes. So we composed ourselves to look like just an ordinary mother and son.

We scooted down the hall to the living room and I settled in a comfortable chair and flipped on the TV. Just as I put my feet up and adjusted myself so my erection was not visible through my pants, the front door opened and in walked my oldest sister. Mom had gotten to the kitchen and put on the teapot and luckily the lunch was something that she had already prepared the night before. Being a lovely shrimp salad.

I could see my sister's face clearly and her look said to me that she smelled something that she really couldn't identify. My sister was smart and not easily deceived. I didn't have great confidence that we wouldn't be found out, eventually. I wondered at the time if the passion that had been going on for the last several hours had actually filled the house so much that we no longer smelled it. I suppose we'll find out eventually.