The Mom Memories - Chapter 4 - AlwaysWantedTo - Literotica

 The Mom Memories Ch. 04

by alwayswantedto©

All characters are 18 years or older.

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From Chapter 03

My god. Mom knew about Dad and Grandma, and Grandma had actually told her. He said Mom didn't like sex but I hoped he was wrong about that. Now I knew why Dad was always around. And I remembered times that Mom did let me see her. There were many times that Dad clearly didn't know about. If she didn't like sex, why did she show herself to me? She must have gotten off on it.

I knew one thing. I was going to find out. I could hardly wait for dinner time.

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I popped out of the study for a snack. Dinner wasn't for another three hours. Looking out the kitchen window, I could see Mom gardening in the back yard. She looked quite the suburban mom. She wore a straw hat to shade her from the sun, a checked blouse with a couple of buttons open at the neck because of the heat, proper shorts sufficiently conservative not to mold her ass or cling to her thighs, and of course, green leather gardening gloves so she could grasp her snips without leaving callouses in her palms (like the ones I was building up at night thinking about her, and my Dad and Grandma).

Watching her crouching down on her tanned knees, I was reminded of how she had nestled in my crotch this morning -- god, was it only this morning? -- while feeding Dad his yogurt. I felt the blood draining from my head as this image filled it, rushing down to fill my groin. As my cock grew in my shorts, Mom turned, smiled and waved as she saw me in the window. I motioned for her to come inside.

Mom rushed in the back door. "Is something wrong?" she panted.

"No, no. I was just about to have a snack and thought you'd like to join me," I said.

"Oh. Maybe just a big glass of juice and some crackers. Let me make it, dear. You sit down."

I sat down as Mom began to make us a snack, far more efficiently than I could have. As I watched her, I thought about how she knew about Dad and Grandma, how he knew that she knew, and his fear that she would entice me to cuckold him. Did she know that Dad knew that she knew? Probably not.

Why, then, did she tease Dad by exposing herself to me when she knew he'd see? True, she didn't show much, and according to Dad's letter, he thought I didn't notice. But I was aware, and had acted like I wasn't because I didn't want him to find out, partly because she showed me far more when he wasn't around than when he was.

And now, I think I knew why. She wanted me to be interested in her to spark jealousy in Dad, or payback for his relationship with Grandma, so she treated me with more than the little peeks she awarded when Dad was around, I guess thinking I'd be wound up to be looking at the goods without any provocation from her. But I twigged that it wasn't quite worthwhile when Dad was around and that, if I didn't show interest when he was, Mom would try harder to pique my interest by showing me even more when he wasn't around.

Mom had recently been showing me quite a bit of leg, peeks up her dress, and views down more than partially open blouses, right up to the day I'd left for school after the holidays last Christmas, just before Dad's stroke. That was the first time I'd actually thought that Mom might be showing herself to me on purpose. It had cranked up from the usual accidental glimpses to blatant 'accidental' showings within the ten days holiday over Christmas, more liberally exposing herself so I would be more interested when Dad was around. But now that Dad had had a stroke she was more demure.

On the other hand, she had insisted he could still see and hear, and went along with my little game to entice him from his illness by reliving vivid memories. Why, then, had she not tried to work me up before we fed him? Did she not really believe he could understand what he saw, and so it wasn't worth the effort to make him jealous?

Or, did she know about the letters? Did she know I would find and read them? Had she known what I was reading when she was standing, for who knows how long, in the study door? Was she leading me to herself through these letters, and thus a long due triumph over Dad? Did she know I would already be primed by the letters? Or did she simply want to avoid any potential escalation because she needed any taboo action to play out in front of him for her to win? Was she not interested in me, despite my Grandma's advice long ago, but just in making Dad think it was happening? So many questions. I had to find some answers.

Walking up behind her as she was slicing an apple, I put my hands on her shoulder and kissed her cheek. Mom shied away a bit, indicating some discomfort at actual touching, something I'd never attempted except in front of Dad the past couple of days. I kissed her cheek again and nuzzled my nose into her shoulder. She seemed even more uncomfortable.

"You know, Mom, you should change before we visit Dad for dinner. And maybe dress a little more relaxed while we're alone in the house."

She resisted this suggestion. "I'll change before we take Dad his dinner, Dave. But what I'm wearing is fine for the rest of the time."

"Mom, this is too important for Dad. We have to get it right. We can't afford to mess up," I urged, playing up the concerned child act.

She was silent for a moment, not replying as I stood holding her upper arms, refraining from further caresses. Finally, she spoke softly, "What are you thinking then? What do you want me to wear?"

I tried not to let my elation at her response transfer through my hands to her arms and, desperate to keep the excitement from my voice as well, I hesitated before responding. "Well, I think you should wear things that might really jog intense memories, you know, nighties and slips and things like that."

"I only dressed like that before going to bed," she argued, still resistant. She didn't point out to me that he had never really been that interested.

"I know, but we need him to see you like that all the time to increase the chance of sparking a reaction. It'll help if you wear the kind of night clothes you did when you were younger. If he's regressed, you probably look more like Grandma to him now, you know, like his own mother." I don't know why I said that, but I could feel her stiffen in my arms. She didn't say anything. I don't know if she was enjoying that irony, turning it over in her own mind, or not. But what an interesting twist. At first shocked at what had fallen out of my mouth, I now didn't regret it. See where it goes, I thought.

"Alright," she said, "I'll go up earlier and prance around in a slip, like the one I wore this morning. Would that do?" she demanded in a miffed tone.

I pushed it a little further. "I think it will take more than that, Mom. We should bring Dad downstairs to the guest room so he can sit in the kitchen or living room during the day, where he can see you more often."

That didn't sit with Mom very well, having Dad around all day, like before. But I persisted, arguing that we needed to do all we could, playing on potential guilt and shame if it became known we hadn't. In the end she relented, agreeing to move Dad downstairs the next day.

"While we're at it, Mom, I think we should try to keep in character more often."

"How do you mean?" she asked.

"Well, I think I should play Dad more, as your husband, so it seems more natural when he's watching. You know, just hugging you and smooching, like you guys probably did when you were younger," I suggested.

"But, your Dad never ...," her voice trailed off. "OK, Davy. For your Dad."

I put my arms right around her and gave her a kiss on her cheek. "That's great, Mom," I said, then swooped in for a smooch again. I dropped my hand from her upper arms down to her waist, letting them dwell on the swell of her hips. I kissed her several more times on her cheek and in the hollow of her neck, then swooped up for a quick kiss on her ear.

"OK, ok, Romeo," she protested, pushing me away and taking our snack to the table. We ate our snack, Mom chatting about some neighborhood stuff, and her friends. Uncharacteristically, Mom ate faster than I, finishing sooner. As I was still eating, her voice softened and she said in a quieter, almost conspirational tone, "I'm going upstairs to see if I have any old clothes that might jog Dad's memory. I'll call you when its time to take his dinner up." She left me to finish my snack.

I looked at my watch. Two more hours until dinner. Time for another letter. I headed for the study.

This time, though I was searching for letters from Frank, and now Francis, I didn't just pass by others when I didn't recognize the name. Francis' letter had taught me to read a little first. That's why I read the letter by Calvin when I came across it.

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Hello group. My name is Calvin. I hope my story doesn't drag on too much. It isn't as exciting as some of yours. I'm not very good at writing so I'll just get right to it.

My Mom is tall and slim, with black hair that she wears long, either just the way it is or pulled together with a scrunchie at the back of her neck. I was aware my Mom was attractive. Lot's of men looked at her, and so did other women. You know how much women look at other women, checking each other out. I knew my Mom was seen as challenging competition by other women just the way they looked at her when she couldn't see them; but I could.

But I never saw my Mom in a sexual way. Never. That is, until Mom decided to work at home, cutting hair to earn some extra money that she could spend herself. She thought it would work as a business since we lived on the edge of downtown and it would be convenient for people -- men that is, because she didn't feel she was skilled enough to cut a woman's hair. Dad was against it, and wouldn't help. So she wanted to practice on me.

After dinner, Mom kept me behind, sitting me on a kitchen chair she used as a barber's chair. I pleaded with her not to wreck my hair, to embarrass me at school. She promised to just trim it a little and started in.

I don't know exactly when, but at some point I became aware of Mom. The softness of her thigh or hip as she bumped into me while working on my hair, the press of her belly against my sides, the feel of her soft hands as she caressed my neck, snipping here and there. She probably wouldn't have be so familiar with real customers but I was her only son, after all, and she probably didn't think anything of bumping against me.

As Mom snipped away, I found myself not wanting to leave. I was enjoying the little brushes of her body and the feel of her fingers on my neck and head as she tilted it this way and that. And then she did it. She stood directly in front of me, between my outstretched legs, and leaned far over, intently eyeing my brow as she carefully trimmed above my eyes.

But my eyes found something else. A glimpse of two little treasures hanging down, just perceptible through the gap between Mother's neck and her blouse as it hung away from her body. I had a perfect view down my mother's shirt. Guiltily, I pulled my eyes away, afraid of being caught. But Mother was still intent on my brow, carefully snipping away. Despite the fact she was looking right at my forehead, I let my eyes stray down again, drinking in the fantastic sight of her dangling breasts, exposed more than I'd ever seen, even when she wore a bikini, the lacy bra covering only the very tips.

I stared and stared. I forgot all about the potential of getting caught until I was startled out of my reverie by Mom's voice, "There," she stood up and stepped back, "That looks good." She turned to pick up a hand mirror from the table. "What do you think?" she asked holding the mirror up for my inspection. I was surprised, she hadn't noticeably cut anything, but it did look better.

"That's great, Mom. You could really be a barber."

"Whoa, there," Mom laughed, "I think it will take a little more practice before I can do that," she countered. As I stood up and Mom collected her scissors and stuff, she asked me, "Do you think you could let me practice some more next week, Calvin?"

I hesitated, not because I was reluctant, not after the display I'd been privy to for the last few minutes. I was just caught off guard. But Mom seemed to think I was reluctant.

"I need more practice," she added.

The thought of her leaning over in front of me again prompted a quick reaction. "No problem, Mom," I finally answered. That night I rubbed my cock until I fell asleep, thinking about Mom's breasts, conjuring up vivid, enhanced images of her dangling breasts encased in a lacy bra that somehow now allowed me to see her nipples.

All through the week at school, I kept daydreaming in class about my Mom's breasts. I was chided several times in different classes for not paying attention. I couldn't think of anything else at school or at home for that matter. When we finished dinner each night the following week, Mom stayed behind to clean up, but shooed me out of the kitchen whenever I tried to stay and help her. When Mom finished in the kitchen, she would join Dad and I in the living room to watch TV. My hopes for another haircut were dwindling. At the end of the second sitcom almost a week later, Mom looked over at Dad.

"Are you going to let me practice on your hair tonight, dear?" My hopes diminished rapidly, dying.

"What?" my father asked, a little incredulously. Without even turning to look at her, he responded energetically, "No bloody way! Do Calvin again."

"I don't think he wants to, honey," Mom whined, "Be a sport, it's your turn."

Ignoring her, father barked, "Go help your mother, Calvin." And that was that.

I followed Mom into the kitchen, dragging a chair out while she got her scissors and brushes out and laid them on the table. "I'm sorry, Calvin, but it's a big help to me, you know."

"That's OK, Mom," I replied, "I don't mind, really." She had no idea how little I minded.

"I'll make it up to you, sweetie, I promise," she went on, "I really do appreciate it."

"No problem, Mom." I sat down, settling in to wait for her to get to the good part.

Mom started in. I was far more sensitive this time to every bump and brush, every stroke of her fingers and guidance by her hand. I could feel myself hardening, interpreting every touch as unnecessary yet intentional. After all, the lady that cut my hair never touched me so much, not so I noticed anyway.

When Mom put her scissors down without trimming my front. I was very disappointed. Afraid she wasn't going to get to the good part, the front, I asked if she had forgot to do it. My voice was a little shaky as I wasn't able to cover my concern completely.

"Oh, yes," she replied, her own voice sounding a little funny, "I just need to rest my eyes for a moment because it takes so much concentration to do the front," she added. As she stood there, facing partly away from me with her near hand resting on her hip, I could see her other hand crooked up to her chest. "I do appreciate you doing this for me, Calvin," she misinterpreted the concern in my voice, "I know its taking a long time."

"I don't mind, Mom. Really," I replied. "Take all the time you want. I like helping you."

"Really?" she asked. "You're such a sweet boy, son." She picked up her scissors and turned back to face me. "Let's get started on the front then, shall we?"

Before she leaned over, I noticed something that made my cock leap against my jeans. While turned away, Mom had loosened two of the buttons on her blouse. As she stood in front of me, holding the scissors out to her side, her blouse pulled apart in the front, exposing the swell of her breasts. Her shirt parted all the way to below her solar plexus. I had never seen Mom wear a blouse unbuttoned that far down.

"It's OK if I take my time then?" she asked, smiling sweetly at me.

"Oh, yes," I assured her, "I want you to be really careful. Take all the time you need, Mom."

She leaned over toward me, slowly. As her hair fell from her back to her sides, over her ears, her blouse began to drop away from her chest. I never looked at her eyes. I was focused on her chest. Lower, lower, lower. She was bent almost horizontal. The gap between her collar bones and her blouse was much greater than the week before. And there they were, what I'd waited all week to see, dangling before my eyes, her two breasts. But this time I could see a lot more since her blouse was far looser and something else, she was wearing a different bra. This bra was made of some silky material that let her nipples show through and it was also smaller, a half cup push up type, I guess, that showed a lot more of her tits.

I was in awe! Mom spent a lot of time bent over in front of me, much longer than the week before. I couldn't help getting really, really hard. If Mom hadn't been concentrating so hard, she could easily have seen the lump in my pants. I don't know how she couldn't have noticed me admiring her breasts. She just had to know, and she didn't give any indication that she minded. She must have been letting me see on purpose, otherwise why would she have loosened her blouse before starting on the front? This thought made me even harder.

Eventually, Mom did finish. She stood and held a mirror up for me to inspect her handiwork. I gushed my enthusiasm for her skill, the euphoria of spending nearly half an hour ogling her tits spilling over. I put the chair away and left the kitchen but returned a few seconds later to ask her if she wanted to practice again next week, or even earlier. When I re-entered the kitchen, Mom was buttoning up her blouse. She blushed when she saw me but answered that yes, she would like to practice some more on a regular basis, twice a week if I didn't mind. Blushing myself, I assured Mom that I would love to help her out, as often as she needed me. Feeling a little awkward, I left.

Several days later, Mom again asked me if I'd help her practice cutting hair again. She didn't ask Dad, probably knowing his answer and not wanting to disturb him while the game was on. We went to the kitchen and Mom made short work of trimming the top, sides and back of my hair. Then she stopped again. I could hear her fidgeting around behind me for a little longer than a few days ago. My cock began swelling in anticipation as I now understood that she was probably undoing a couple of buttons on her blouse to provide me with my reward. I hoped she would fuss around with the front for as long, or even longer since she had shortened the time she spent on the rest.

Mom finally came into view in front of me. "Are you ready for me to do the front?" she asked.

I simply nodded, afraid to trust my voice, I was so pent up. I was extremely pleased to see that the buttons were indeed undone on her blouse. There was something different, but I couldn't put my finger on what it was. Mom had an odd little smile on her face, but I didn't think that was it. Anyway, I just wanted to start looking at her tits again, so I was impatient for her to lean over and start the show. But she stood there for a moment longer, smiling that odd smile, before finally bending over.

I couldn't stop myself from craning my neck a little as she bent over, quite slowly this time. I guess that made it a little obvious what I was doing but she didn't seem to take any notice. Finally, she was bent over horizontal and her shirt dropped from her chest leaving the same substantial gap I had enjoyed so much days earler. Ah, there they were, the tops of her breasts, if anything, showing more than the last week. Could she have found an even smaller bra, my mind asked as my eyes fixed on her lovely globes.

It took a moment for the truth to penetrate my breast-numbed mind. They were bare. She wasn't wearing a bra! My mother wasn't wearing a bra. I was stunned. I could see her nipples, clutching onto the swell of her breasts as they dangled there. 

"Stay still, Calvin."

I must have been moving my head in time to the sway of my mother's tits. I held my face rigidly still, following her swinging globes with my eyes as her hand movements stimulated erotic movement below her chest. My cock was hardening by the second, I could feel it busting against my jeans. It was faster than my mind.

Mom fussed with my hair for a long time, focusing exclusively on the front. I had an unrestricted view of her gorgeous, swaying tits. Her nipples, soft when I first saw them, slowly stiffened, hardening into a substantial length. My observation period was so long that I noticed a fine detail. As her nipples stiffened, they didn't harden straight down in line with her hanging tits. No, they stiffened toward me. I imagine that, had she stood up, they would point upwards from her tits at almost a 45 degree angle. And outward a bit.

Mom straigntened up sharply when she heard Dad rustling in the living room, getting out of his chair. She turned away from the kitchen doorway, facing partly away from me as well but with her back squarely away from the kitchen doorway. I could see that she was quickly doing up her buttons. So she was definitely giving me a show on purpose! My cock turned to steel.

"You two just about done?" Dad asked, pausing in the doorway.

"Almost," Mom replied, walking to the sink, her back to Dad.

"Mom's just going to practice trimming my mustache," I blurted out.

Mom added, "That's right, dear. We'll be a little longer, honey."

"Well, I'm going to bed. Try to be quiet when you come up. And keep the TV down, Calvin," he glared at me.

After Dad left there was no motion in the kitchen for a moment or two. I took advantage of the fact that Mom wasn't right in front of me to slip my fingers under my jeans and pull my poor bent tool straight. Mom eventually came up behind me and placed her hand on my shoulder, moving it along my neck, stroking softly back and forth.

"Can I really trim your mustache, Calvin?"

"Yeah, Mom. You'll have to know how to do mustaches."

"Oh, sweetie, you try so hard to help me and your Dad won't even let me practice on him once. This is really important to me. I won't forget it." She sounded serious, intense, and really ticked at Dad, the way her voice tightened when she mentioned him.

I could hear her rustling behind me before she came around to stand once more in front of me. Her buttons were undone again! My cock starting to grow again, quickly regaining the ground it had lost with the sudden appearance of my father, but now that it was straightened, its head poked above the waistband of my jeans. Thankfully, I had pulled my shirt out to cover the fact that I was simply providing some relief to my poor bent cock.

Mom was smiling very sweetly at me. "It is very warm tonight, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I'm almost too hot in my shirt," I replied, "I had to pull it out," indicating my shirtail covering the front of my jeans.

"You can take your shirt off if you like," Mom offered.

"No, no, I'm fine," I blustered. God, I'd be in for it if I took off my shirt and she saw the top of my cock sticking out.

She was holding a fine-toothed comb in one hand and a pair of scissors in the other.

"Hold these for a minute," she said.

I took the instruments from her. Still smiling sweetly, she unbuttoned another button on her blouse. "Do you mind if I get a little more comfortable, Cal?"

"No, no, Mom. Go ahead," I was surprised at her calling me Cal. Everyone at school called me Cal, but my mom never shortened my name.

"Thanks." She raised her hands to her blouse and threaded yet another button through its slot. Her blouse was now unbuttoned so far that I could just see her sexy navel dipping in from the gentle swell of her tanned tummy. Full staff, I was up to full staff. "I really do appreciate your letting me practice, honey." Mom reserved 'honey' for Dad. I was always 'sweetie' or 'sweetheart'. Past full staff.

"I'll help anytime, for as long as you like, Mom."

Her eyes softened. She reached out and patted my cheek. "Thank you," she whispered so softly I could hardly hear, interpreting her words more from the shape of her mouth, which now caught my attention. Her lips seemed full and sexy, something I hadn't noticed before.

Taking her tools back, Mom bent over in front of me again. Down, down, down until her bare tits swayed once more in front of me. Her nipples were still hard and I realized why she had kept her back to Dad.

"It really is hot," I said, for no apparent reason other than reacting to feeling like I was burning up inside.

"Don't talk," Mom replied, turning her head toward the stairs to listen.

I enjoyed the show Mom proceeded to give me even more, excited beyond words by the knowledge that she was purposely giving me a show she knew she had to hide from Dad. Although I hadn't covered my tracks well before, I made no attempt at all to do so now. I brazenly stared down her blouse. In fact, at one point, when her blouse obscured my view, I reached up to push it aside with my fingers.

Misinterpreting my action again, Mom whispered, "Listen for your Dad, honey, if you're going to do that."

Do what? Did she think I was going to touch her? Was she saying she was OK with it?

My hand was frozen in mid air where I'd left it, holding her blouse out to ensure a clear view of her tits. Slowly, I willed it to move toward her tit. Was I sure? What if I was wrong? Like pushing a wet noodle, my wavering hand slowly made its way to her tit until I finally grasped the dangling pear in my upturned hand, her nipple resting in my palm.

"Don't make any sudden moves, honey," Mom whispered, "I do have scissors near your eyes."

There was no recrimination, no anger in her voice. I reached up to grasp her other tit. Carefully, afraid to move suddenly, I massaged her tits. She continued trimming my mustache. After a few minutes, her nipples growing in my palms, my palms bending them around in small circles, she whispered to me again.

"I'm just going to sit down to steady myself, honey," she said quietly, then adding in a whisper, "on your lap."

She moved forward, her legs widening to straddle my thighs, and sat down on me. My cock, the whole head of which was poking out above my jeans, was smothered in a soft, warm pillow as her panties encased it. Her skirt fell to the side, covering my legs as well as hers. The tip of my cock pulsed up against the very warm pussy pressing down on it, separated only by Mom's panties. My hands still gripped her bare tits under her blouse, although they had swung around so that her nipples were now accented by my thumbs and fingers that squeezed them between. I had been right, her nipples did stand up. They jutted up toward my face, which was now only two inches in front of them.

Mom dropped her hands down onto my shoulders, not trimming my hair at all, or making any pretense to. I squeezed her tits, forcing her nipples out further still. Her arm came up behind my head, tilting it forward and to the side, toward her right breast. My lips pressed against it. I was too shocked to open my mouth. She pressed harder, forcing my lips open, shoving her nipple into my mouth. She started to rock my head on her tit.

"Suck it," she whispered, "suck me, Cal."

Numbly, I started sucking my mother's tit.

"That's it," she cooed, "that's it. Suck me, suck my tits."

It felt like her nipple was growing longer and longer in my mouth. I noticed that her hips were gently rocking on my cock, back and forth, in time with my sucks on her tit. I could feel her nipple reaching almost to the back of my mouth as she forced her tit further in. She began rocking her pussy more rapidly on my cock as her breath grew increasingly ragged.

"Oh yeah, yeah, oh yeah," she kept repeating, over and over.

I couldn't move much but I tried to force my cock up against her pussy, where it was soft and damp and hot. As her words merged into one long, guttural 'yeeeaaah' and her hips reached a frantic pace, I felt my load surge up my shaft and explode onto my stomach under my shirt.

Mom's paced slowed and then stopped except for an occasional twitch. Her breathing slowly returned to a soft pant as she regained her breath. She laid her head by my shoulder and whispered, "I guess we got a little carried away, huh, sweetie?"

I nodded, my face rubbing against her cheek which was damp with sweat. She went on, "Did you like it?"

I nodded again, still unable to speak. She pulled her head back and took my face in her hands, "I'm glad" she said. She kissed me several times on my face, then briefly on my mouth, right on my lips. "Now you know how much I appreciate your support." She rocked her hips as if to emphasize her point, and smiled.

"Do you want to keep helping me?"

I nodded again. "That's great," she said. She lowered her face to mine once more, pressing her lips against mine for another kiss. After a minute, her tongue slipped between my lips into my mouth. We necked, sitting there in the kitchen, french kissing for several more minutes. Her pussy pressed on my cock and my hands began massaging her tits again. But a moment later, she stood up. "I won't be able to sleep if you do keep doing that. Wait until our next practice, honey."

Before she could turn away I blurted out, my eagnerness obvious, "When?"

Mom laughed, a low laugh. "We'll see. We'll have to wait at least a few days." She paused briefly, looking pensive, then said "I can't do more than this, you know." Looking down into my lap, she smiled and added, "But don't wear jeans next time." She turned in the doorway to give me a big smile.

Three days came and went, each one seeming longer. Mom didn't give any sign that things were different between us which was frustrating. Then, on the evening of the fourth day, I noticed Mom flashing me sympathetic smiles. Whenever Dad stuck his nose in his newspaper during commercials, she would tease me, crossing and uncrossing her legs while smiling pointedly at me, absently fiddling with the buttons on her blouse and then flashing her eyes up at me. I grew hard in my jeans.

I waited impatiently for Dad to go to bed. Finally, at long last, he got up and said to Mom, "You coming?" he asked Mom.

"No, dear. Calvin's going to help me practice again."

"You're going to go through with this then, are you?" Dad asked in a disgruntled tone.

"Yes. You know I want to," she insisted, getting her back up. Her anger made her look even more sexy to me. I tried not to let my erection show, covering my lap with a sudden interest in the TV guide.

"Alright, alright. I was just asking." Dad started up the upstairs.

"I want to wash your hair with a special shampoo before I cut it this time, Calvin," Mom said, a little louder than normal as she was ensuring that Dad could hear. "You may want to change out of your jeans in case it spills," she suggested, smiling that funny little smile again.

"Uh, sure, Mom" I answered, heading upstairs behind Dad.

"Don't be too long," she instructed, "It's getting late."

I ran up the stairs and into my room, frantically kicking off my jeans and rummaging through my drawers for a pair of pajamas with an open fly in front. Whipping downstairs, I slowed down and entered the kitchen in a casual manner. Mom was waiting beside the chair. I took my seat, expecting her to start right away, not bothered by the coming wait for the frontal work since I knew what was coming.

But she didn't start. She stepped around and stood in front of me right away. She looked down approvingly at my pajamas, or at least my lack of jeans.

"Did your father go to bed?" she asked.

"I think so," I replied, "His door was shut and the light was out."

"Are you sure?" she asked, looking out the kitchen door toward the stairs. "You need to be sure," she cautioned, turning back to look at me seriously, her eyes steady. She was tense. Why, I wondered. Was she more afraid of getting caught because she knew what we were going to do? I nodded a definite yes.

She nodded, then, slowly, she moved her hands to the top of her blouse and began to undo the buttons. My cock instantly started growing. It was one thing to see with her with a few buttons undone on her blouse but an order of magnitude better to watch her undo them in front of me. I watched eagerly, my appreciation obvious as Mom slowly bared her chest to me. She kept her eyes on me, watching me watch her, her funny smile never leaving her face.

This time, she undid all her buttons, then pulled her blouse out from under her skirt. Then, with a raise of her eyebrow, and a crook to her smile, she pulled the blouse shirt wide, baring her tits topped by stiff nipples to my adoring gaze. Seemingly pleased at my sharp intake of breath, she thrust her chest forward and from side to side, presenting her breasts in a wondrous display. She leaned forward, teasing me with the closeness of her nipples, waving them across my face, only inches away.

She laughed. "You really do appreciate your mom, don't you?"

I simply nodded, my throat too dry for speech. Mom pulled one arm out of the blouse, then the other. She stood there in front of me, naked to the waist, wearing only a pleated skirt, no nylons and barefoot. No wonder she wanted to know if Dad had gone to bed. She wouldn't be able to cover herself in time if he came downstairs. She was really on the edge.

She arched her back, twisting again in front of me, proudly displaying her tits, her nipples standing up, no jutting up, stiffly, on top of her tits. She was so fucking hot!

She leaned in and started playing around with my hair with just her bare hands. She didn't have any scissors or a comb. They were still laying on the table. She tousled my hair, leaned down and kissed me on the lips. Pulling back a bit, she pushed her tongue out and dragged it across my mouth before pushing it in. We kissed furiously. I reached up to grasp her tits, kneading them, a little roughly in my eagerness, I must admit. But she didn't seem to mind. When the kiss ended, we were both breathing hard.

She moved closer to me. "Suck them," she commanded. I dutifully complied, taking a tit into my mouth and sucking hard the way I now knew she liked. I mauled her other tit. After a few minutes, I swapped tits. Then she pulled away. She looked down at my lap.

"Look, your little man is trying to come out," she said, looking at my cock straining against my pajamas. "He's straining so hard." She laughed, a hoarse, throaty laugh. She moved closer to me, straddling my legs. Reaching down, she grasped the hem of her skirt and pulled it up a little. Bending her knees, she lowered herself, slowly, slowly, until I felt her warm pussy pressing my cock once again, bending it against my stomach. She wiggled until her pussy lips fit around my shaft, enveloping it, grasping my rod as she sunk more weight on me. She put her arms around me and kissed me, forcing her tongue deep into my mouth. A moment later, she her hips started moving, slowly rocking her pussy along the length of my cock. She felt much hotter than she had a few days before. I could feel her damp heat as her soft meat enveloped my shaft.

She whispered in my ear, "Do you like it, honey?" I nodded vigorously. "We'll skip the haircut tonight. Tonight is just for you. Would you like that?" Her whispers were excited and throaty in my ear.

"Yes, Mom, yes," I hissed back, pressing up as she rubbed herself on me.

Her throaty laugh echoed in my ear again. "Cal, you nasty boy. You want to fuck me, don't you?"

I didn't answer. Please don't stop, I screamed to myself.

"You know I can't do that, don't you?" It was a statement, not a question.

I nodded, but I couldn't stop my cock from pressing up even harder against her.

She growled softly in my ear, "It's OK, Cal. You can want to, you just can't do it." She kissed my ear, dipping her tongue inside, circling it around and then nibbling the lobe. Once more the throaty whisper penetrated my ear, "You do, don't you. You want to fuck your own mother. With your father right upstairs!"

I nodded this time, thrusting my cock up hard against her. She laughed, increasing the intensity of her fucking motions, pushing down hard, forcing my cock between her soaking pussy lips as she dragged them along its pajama clad length. On one forward shove, the gods aligned on my side, for as she pulled back, scraping along my rod, my cock popped through the fly hole in my pajamas.

On the next push forward her pussy lips split over my bare cock. She groaned as she dragged back along its length, as did I, realizing my cock was sliding through the wet canyon of her bare pussy lips. She returned and withdrew more quickly and I pushed up even harder, lifting myself and her from the chair. Our movements quickly became more frantic. We lunged at each other for the next few minutes, gasping erratically, until she came again, slumping and draping herself over me as my cock began spurting all over me and her, jerking against her pussy until I had nothing left.

I kissed her, a gentle, tender and long kiss, without putting my tongue in her mouth.

"We really got carried away this time, didn't we," she stated after I pulled my mouth off hers.

I hugged her. "I guess so," I answered, "but I liked it and I want to practice even more."

"No," she replied, "I think we've gone too far. We need to stop."

I was taken aback. "No. Mom please. I don't want to stop." My face twisted with disappointment.

"Sweetie, you have to realize this is wrong. I can't go any further, I can't even keep doing this."

"OK, Mom. We won't go so far. But we can still do some. Please, Mom."

"Well," she stood up, her skirt falling into place, "maybe, but not much. We'll talk about it tomorrow."

She smiled down at me, searching for common ground, for agreement. My eyes focused on her tits swaying before me, her nipples still quite stiff. She laughed, "Oh god. It's no use talking to you right now. I'll tell you what. Tomorrow morning, as soon as Dad's gone, bring some coffee up and we'll talk about it."

"OK," I agreed, a little sullen.

"But don't wake me if I'm sleeping," she went on.

"I won't," I said, still sullen.

Mom turned and went out.

Well friends, I won't tell you more unless you ask. I know this happened over just a few short weeks, but that's the way it was.

Maybe in another letter. Please keep sending me yours.

----------------------------

Wow. How can a guy be that lucky? His mother just goes after him and rubs herself on him. Incredible. And I have to play this game with my Mom, who knew her husband had fucked his mother for years.

"Dave," there was a soft knock on the study door, "Dave? It's time to feed your father." I opened the door. There was my own Mom, in a pale blue slip that fell to her knees, with a lacy neckline that cut down between her breasts, almost to her navel. "We need to go up in a few minutes."

Mom looked a little uncomfortable standing before me in just her slip. Walking over to her and stopping just short, I complimented her on her choice.

I didn't have it so bad, I thought, not so bad at all. I followed Mom out into the living room, admiring her legs, the flare of her hips as they peeled away from her waist, and the swell of her breast as I watched it bulge out from her side, jiggling as she walked. Her breasts were unencumbered. My cock began to swell. No, I didn't have it bad, and it was getting better.

"Is this what you had in mind to help you get into your role?" Mom asked, turning to face me. She looked stunning, her breasts prominent under the slip, their bare sides swelling into the valley cut by her low neckline.

"I can't imagine anything better, Mom. Thanks. I know you're a bit hesitant about all of this."

"I know, Davy. But I've thought it through and I know you're right. We have to try our hardest for Dad." Mom's face twisted with emotion and she stepped forward, throwing her arms around my neck. I held her, pulling her to me, crushing her tits against me. Despite the tenderness of the moment, I couldn't help dropping my hand to her lower back, and then over the swell of her cheek to cup her ass in my hand. She didn't flinch or otherwise acknowledge my touch, she only said, "Let's go upstairs now."

At her bedroom door, as she stood holding Dad's dinner, I again placed my hand on her back. "Remember, we're playing roles and we've got to make him believe." I slid my hand down to rub it across her ass. Mom nodded her head. I opened the door and we went in.

Mom took Dad's dinner immediately to the bedside table where she could easily reach it. Before she could sit at the side of the bed to feed him, I pulled her to me. "We need to let him see us like you would be just before you went to bed." I ducked my head and kissed her. She seemed flustered again. "Come on, Mom, try to get into it." I kissed her again, holding her until she responded. It wasn't long before I was able to slip my tongue between her lips for a real kiss.

Turning Mom to face Dad, I whispered, "Let him look at you. You still have the body of a thirty year old woman, Mom."

I held her upper arms and pulled them back, thrusting her breasts out. I was pleased to see that her nipples weren't soft. "Let him see your gorgeous legs," I whispered in her ear, pulling her slip up her sides until the hem was high enough to show the bottom of her panties. I let the hem drop.

"Let him think something's up tonight, Mom," I whispered in her ear, "Take off your panties."

"No, I can't," she balked.

"Yes, Mom. You have to. You don't know how it makes a man feel when he's with a woman that isn't wearing panties. She's still covered, but seems more accessible. Stir his mind with it."

"I can't, Davy."

"Yes you can. Take them off right in front of him."

I started sliding the hem of the slip up her thighs once more. Mom put her hands on mine to stop me but I kept pulling her slip up. When her panties were bared again, she relented, reaching in to pull them down her legs and step out of them. What an incredible sight to watch her pull her panties off.

"Perfect, Mom. Now, get up on the bed and feed him." Mom sat at Dad's side. "No, right up on the bed, like last time."

Mom dutifully got up on the bed, kneeled at Dad's side and started to feed him. Quietly, I pulled my shirt off, dropped my pants, laying them gently to the floor, and took off my socks. Dressed only in my boxers, I clambered up behind mom. I placed my hands on her shoulders and gently massaged her neck, slowly working down her back as she fed my father. I didn't do anything overtly sexual.

When she finished, Mom leaned forward across Dad to place the plate and utensils on the bedside table. As she did, I was treated to a look at her pantiless ass barely covered by her slip, her crack clearly visible. When she straightened up I moved forward so that her back and rump were nestled tightly against me.

"Now we need to let him see you, Mom, like you're just coming to bed. Go to bathroom, then walk back here, very sexy, and get back on the bed in front of me."

Without any hesitation this time, Mom did as I asked. She looked tremendous as she came back to bed, her long legs bare, and all the way up I knew. My cock surged watching her. She kneeled on the bed and walked herself around to place herself in front of me, then pushed back to press her ass closer to me.

I put my hands on her waist and pulled her up. "That was great, Mom. Arch your back. Show him your breasts." She did, thrusting her tits out, proudly. I reached around and cupped each tit, holding them up toward Dad. I hefted their weight, then squeezed each gently. "Any man would love these," I whispered. "Let him see more."

I pulled the lapels of Mom's low cut slip apart, out past her nipples, pulling them in to the sides of her breasts. Her tits were now bare, squeezed out between the lapels of her slip. Bringing my hands back, I brushed her nipples, watching over her shoulder as they hardened to my touch. Pinching her nipples, tugging them out, I whispered in her ear again, "Open your legs, Mom. Spread them for him."

Mom moved her knees apart. "More," I said. She pulled them wider. "More," I insisted. She opened them yet more. Reluctant to release her nipples, I quietly instructed her again, "Pull your slip up. Let him see you."

Mom began pulling her slip up her wide open legs. She did it slowly, teasingly. I don't know if she was teasing Dad, or if she knew she was teasing me. But tease she did. She didn't stop until her hands were at her waist.

"Lean over like you did yesterday." I pressed her forward and added, "We need to make it seem more real so I'm gonna press really close to you. Just go along with it." My whispers sounded over eager and desperate to me but she allowed me to pull her hips away from Dad as I pushed on her back, far enough that her head lay on his lap, facing him. "Watch to see if he reacts," I instructed.

Oh, the sight of her! Head in father's lap, ass raised toward me, covered only to the bottom of her cheeks. I moved forward to press against her, my cock rock hard under my boxers and the bare head sticking out above the waistband. I leaned over her back and reached around to play with her tits, still squeezed out through the front of her slip. I started nudging my cock against her ass, rocking her head in Dad's lap.

"Come on, Mom. Move like you're doing it." My voice was dry and hoarse.

She started fucking movements, little ones, in time with my nudges against her ass. Slowly, they became more exaggerated as I pushed harder against her. I kept my cock pressed firmly against her ass, moving with her as she shoved it back against me. It dawned on me that she would be unlikely to let me do this unless she was indeed playing out some kind of revenge against Dad. This thought made me push a little further, gambling that my guess was correct.

"If you never let him have you like this, Mom, you really have to show him now how good it would have been." My suggestion clearly moved us from reminding Dad of vivid memories to taunting him with things he wanted but never had.

Mom didn't react even though I hadn't whispered, I'd said it aloud. Had I gone to far? Tentatively, her hands left Dad's leg, where she'd been using her forearms to brace herself, and reached back to her ass. She clutched her slip and began bunching it up in her fists, pulling it up over her ass, baring it to me. Her unsupported head rocked in Dad's lap. She walked her knees a little closer to herself, raising her ass higher in the air. My cock, peeking out of my shorts, was now rubbing along the bare crack of her ass, close to her pussy.

Mom was panting hard. "Like that?"

"Yes, yes," I panted back, breathing just as hard as she was. I moved my thighs from side to side to push her legs farther apart, and angled my hips to let my protruding cock head gouge between her pussy lips. Releasing her tits, I pulled my shorts down to my knees. My cock sprung free against her ass. I pulled back to let it dive under her ass and graze her pussy as I shoved forward. I pushed in and out, teasing her pussy with my scraping rod. Mom was rocking her hips wildly, accenting the pressure of my pole on her pussy.

"Show him," she gasped, "Show him!"

"What?" I gasped back, thrusting my cock between her thighs.

"Show him ... unngghhhh .... what it's like ... unnnngghhhh ... to have me ... unnnggghhhhhh ... from behind!"

For real? I was stunned. Although not so stunned that I stopped fucking my cock between my mother's thighs, pressing along her wet pussy. Fuck her for real? I was always thinking about getting a little farther, the next step, the next feel. Suddenly, she was handing me the real deal. I was suddenly uncertain. Did I really want to do that? Did she?

"SHOW ... HIM!"

Startled by her yell, I pulled back. She stopped, holding her ass up toward me. I looked down at her quivering ass, at her beaver pouting back at me, at the moisture dripping down the inside of her thighs, her moisture, her wetness. Grasping my cock, I placed its head at her pussy lips and shoved it in an inch. Then, not hard but firm and steady, I pushed in until I could feel her ass press against my hips. I grasped her hips and started thrusting hard into her.

I looked up at my father's dead eyes, 'I'm fucking her now, from behind!' I thought, as I bucked my hips against her ass and thighs. But the only things that escaped my lips for real were short, guttural grunts. I was too busy trying to breathe as I pummeled Mom's ass. I would have thought it would be over in seconds, but to my surprise I fucked her for quite a while before I spunked her, making sure every drop squirted inside. I collapsed on her sweaty back, breathing heavily. "Did you see anything, did he react?" I gasped, trying to catch my breath.

She panted for some time before answering, "No."

"We'll have to keep trying, then," I said, elated when she immediately responded, "Yes."

"Let's not move him downstairs, Mom. Let's leave him here. It's easier."

"Yes," she agreed.

"But you should keep wearing slips around the house so every time you come up here he sees that you're dressing sexy all the time."

"To stay in character, to help us play our roles?" she asked, her breathing finally normal.

"Partly. But he should know that you're dressing like that for your me too, for your son." There. It was on the table, a big hint that I knew about Dad and Grandma, and his fear about Mom and me.

"OK, Davy. I know what we have to do up here, and I understand if you need me to dress like this to help you with that."

That wasn't exactly the answer I was hoping for; I was hoping she'd take it a little further, for her to want to wander around in slips or night clothes all the time, for my benefit, not just for this game we were playing. But that was good enough. At least for now.

Mom went on, "I'm going to stay and have a nap with Dad. Can you get your own dinner?"

"OK, Mom. I have lots more work to do in Dad's study but call me so we can say goodnight to Dad together, OK?"

Mom turned over on her back, her arm crooked above her head, her tits still pushing out between her slip. She didn't make any move to pull the slip together to cover herself, or to pull the hem down to cover her bare, damp pussy. "OK, Davy," she smiled, opened her legs and closed her eyes, "but don't be too long because I think Dad will need to go to bed early tonight."

I rushed downstairs straight to the study, skipping dinner in favor of searching for another letter by Frank or Francis to whet my appetite for this evening. Starting where I'd finished with Calvin's letter, I discovered a postscript.

--------------------------------

Hi group. I know I was going to tell you more about me and mom next time but I just had to open the letter before I mailed it to add this postscript. I couldn't wait.

Remember Mom asked me to bring her coffee up the next morning right after Dad left so we could talk about our situation? Well, I did. I was up early, and was coming downstairs just when Dad finished his breakfast. He was pleased to see me up.

"Well, that's a change," he grumped. "So you're going to make an effort to look for a summer job before you go to school?"

"Uh, yeah, Dad," I replied, "Like you said, the early bird gets the worm, right?"

"That's right, son." He slapped me on the back as he headed out the door, "Good luck."

I rushed to make coffee. The stupid coffee maker was so slow I thought it was broken. Eventually, I made my way upstairs carrying a mug of coffee for Mom, thinking hard about how I could convince her to let me keep looking at, touching and sucking her tits, even if she didn't rub herself on me anymore. I was careful to go in her room very quietly and though I set the mug down gently on the bedside table on Dad's side, next to an open box of rubbers, I still disturbed her. She turned over onto her tummy, clutching her pillow lengthways to her body as she rolled on top of it. As I stood watching her, waiting for her breathing to deepen, indicating sleep, before sitting on her bed, she mumbled to herself and kicked at her covers as she tried to get comfortable.

My attention was riveted on Mom's back as the sheet was dragged down by her restless feet. Down from her shoulders, to her waist and on the next kick, over her rump to the backs of her thighs. Another rustle and the sheet was only up to her mid thigh, the hem of her nightie stretched across the halfway mark of her cheeks. Half her ass was bare!

Now seeing and sucking Mom's tits was great, don't get me wrong. But you can't believe how hard my boner got when the bottom of her ass came into view. Mom was making quiet little sounds. As far as I could make out, she was dreaming. She moved her feet around again, kicking the sheet lower still. It was now across her knees and stayed there, held down by her left foot as she bent her other knee and lifted that foot higher in the bed to her side.

Now I had a clear view of her entire ass and pussy. I knelt down at the foot of the bed to improve my view. Her pussy lips, I could see from this vantage point, were parted. This I could tell even through the thick pubic covering her puffy lips, a glistening pink line clearly discernible running from the point her ass gave way to her pussy, and out of sight as it pressed against the mattress.

As I watched, Mom shifted yet again. The sheet was kicked right offer feet. She hunched her bottom up and opened her legs even wider as she bent her left knee as well. Mom was now lying on her tummy, her ass slightly lifted from the mattress, legs bent and opened wide. Her pussy was now clearly parted, marked by a wet pink slash.

I couldn't take any more. I stood, pushed my pajamas down my legs and off my feet. Grasping my engorged cock, I began to stroke myself. What would I do if she awoke and saw me? I didn't care. She looked so hot, like she was inviting me to fuck her. That thought rolled around in my head like a cannonball. What if she was asking me to have her? What if she wanted to be taken? She was the one that insisted I come up to her bedroom even if she was sleeping. And only after Dad left. She let me touch her tits, checking to make sure Dad wasn't near, and she rubbed her pussy on me, and told me not to wear jeans next time. Maybe she wanted to but couldn't cope with it. If I took her while she was 'sleeping', she could pretend we hadn't. God, I hoped I was right because if I was wrong and she told Dad ...

Gingerly, I placed my knee on the bed. Carefully I let it take my weight and then lifted my other knee onto the bed. Slowly, I moved ahead. I froze when she stirred, mumbling something unintelligible. Her legs moved apart even wider and her ass lifted higher. God, my cock was so hard! I was careful not to touch her legs, which wasn't hard, they were so wide apart.

Suddenly, her ass dropped to the mattress and her legs closed together on my knees. She was moaning into her pillow. Frantic, I lifted my knees one by one and placed them on the outside of hers as she moved to close the gap between her legs once mine were out of the way. I stayed still, panicked that she would turn and see me kneeling above her, naked, with my cock jutting out over her thighs. When she didn't move, or give any other indication that she was waking up, I walked my knees up outside her thighs and stopped.

My errant cock wobbled within an inch of her ass. It felt as if it was already touching, the feeling of being so close to her bare pussy was so intense it was almost unbearable. I lowered myself, bracing with one arm while I used the other hand to push my cock into the heart shaped juncture of her thighs under her ass.

I pushed, shoving the head of my tool between her legs, into her warm and moist flesh. My cock pushed deeper, searching for the hot slippery lips I had found the night before. Mother never made a sound. Bracing myself now with both hands at her sides, I pushed my hips down, shoving my cock deeper between her tight thighs. Her ass tilted up against my intrusion, making it easier for me to push forward.

The tip of my cock felt suddenly wet, and very hot. Ecstasy! I pushed harder an my prick slipped further ahead, wetting my shaft. Shove. Shove. Shove. I was in her, my cock was inside my Mom!

I pulled out, slowly, relishing the exquisite feel of her cunt gripping my cock. Slowly, I pushed back in, my hips and back bending to the task. Out again, then back in, still slow but faster than before. Several more times, then several more again. I was fucking her. Her ass lifted even higher giving me better and deeper access. I hunched my buttocks, digging my cock in her. Then she spoke, shocking the hell out of me.

"Take me ... take me ... unnngghhhhh!"

I began fucking wildly. There was no rhythm to my movement, I was just banging her frantically, driven by her moans and my grunts. I slammed repeatedly into the mattress, over and over, until at last I came, pushing her whole body flat to the mattress as I dug my bone into her as deep as I could, gasping and yelling, "Mommmm!"

After a few minutes, I got up, pulled on my pajamas and covered Mom with the sheet. I went to the bathroom to clean up. When I returned, Mom 'woke up' and, turning to see me, smiled and said good morning. I fetched the mug of coffee from Dad's table and handed it to her.

"Oh, you remembered to bring me coffee. How sweet." Mom gave me a huge smile. There was no mention of what we'd just done. It was as if it never happened. "Are you going to let me practice on your hair again on Monday?" she asked as she plumped her pillow and Dad's, leaning back into them while holding her coffee.

"Yeah, Mom. Sure."

"You're so generous, Cal. Come sit beside me while I drink my coffee. ... No, no ... under the covers. That's it," she cooed as I slipped in next to her. "You deserve a little reward, I think." Mom looked down at her chest, then at me. "Do you think you can play with them without spilling my coffee?"

"Oh, yeah. I'll be careful," I assured her.

"Good," she said, "Hold this." She handed me her coffee and then pulled her nightie over her head and tossed it to the floor. She was naked in bed beside me. "Go ahead, play with them if you like."

Several minutes after I started fondling her tits, she whispered, "You can kiss them, too, honey."

As I really got into sucking them, I slipped my right arm under her back and let my left hand stray down between her legs. I cupped her pussy mound, slipping my fingers along her crevice and was about to slip my fingers inside when she stopped me with her hand.

"I can't let you in there, Cal. I can feel your little man against my leg, but I can't let you go that far, honey. I'm sorry."

I stopped sucking her tit.

"All boys want to fuck their mother. It's OK for us to play a little, even talk about like I did last night, but we can't actually do it. Understand?"

I nodded.

"Keep sucking me, honey," she pulled my mouth back to her tit, her breath sucking in as my mouth enveloped her nipple once more. As I sucked her nipple I let my fingers move, ever so slightly, on her pussy. I sucked and sucked, all the while barely moving my fingers on her quim, alternating between lightly stroking up and down and gently tugging her lips apart. She never objected, even though a few minutes earlier she had stopped me and held my hand still. Her hand had now fallen away from mine. Only her breathing had changed, becoming raspier, and the quick intakes and soft little gasps more frequent. 

It wasn't due to my tit sucking. I had become negligent in this regard, simply licking her nipple, concentrating heavily on her cunt. As I pulled her lips wider, starting to dip the tips of my fingers in between, she moved her hand back to grasp mine once more. She spoke in a harsh, hoarse whisper, "Maybe its OK if you just touch me there."

Her grip loosened, and her hand fell away. I pushed my fingers inside and up into her wet cunt, wet with her juice and my spunk. Mom spilled her coffee, what was left of it, but she just let the mug roll off her onto the floor. I used my right arm across the small of her back to push her pelvis out as I dug my fingers into her. Her hips began to rock of their own accord as I fucked my fingers into her. I let my right hand slip down to her ass, my long finger nestling into the crack, pressing on her little hole, but not in. She was gasping unabashedly now, her legs opening wide, her knees bent so her heels could dig into the mattess, helping her fuck my hand in ernest. Only a moment later, her hips were bucking wildly and she was yelling, "Finger me, Cal. Finger your mother!"

Afterward, when she was still gasping for breath, she looked at me, her face flushed. "You're good at letting me get carried away, aren't you?" She smiled that crooked little smile. She looked very satisfied, still propped up on the pillows, her arms hanging limply at her sides.

"I guess so, Mom," I answered, getting up to my knees, swinging the left over her to straddle her tummy. "But you need to let me carried away, now."

I pulled my pajamas down, letting my cock spring out toward her face. To my relief, she didn't yell, didn't even look angry. She just smiled that smile, let a twinkle sparkle through her eyes, and opened her mouth wide. Her arms remained limp at her sides. I grasped my cock and pushed my hips forward moving unerringly into her gaping jaws. She clamped her mouth down, sealing her lips around my shaft, swirling her tongue around my cock's head, and then sucked hard, her cheeks caving in. She released me, quickly pulled out and then pushed back in quick succession several times, then clamped down and repeated the same action.

"Oh, god, Mom," I cried.

Her eyes sparkled. She pulled her mouth off me again. "Like that?" she asked with a big smile.

To my grateful nod, she responded, "OK, I guess you can fuck me that way, if you want. Do you, Cal?" she smiled, opening her mouth, adding, "Do you want to fuck my mouth? Come on, fuck your mother's mouth."

Several times over the next two minutes, when I pulled out, she repeated these words, "Fuck my mouth, come on, fuck your Mom's mouth."

That's all the time I lasted. I blasted what was left of my come into her throat, convulsing against her face. She laughed when I pulled out. "Did you jack off over me last night? I wouldn't have thought I could swallow it all, a young man like you. You did, didn't you? You've already blown your load this morning, haven't you?" She laughed again.

Was she kidding? Did she really not know I had just emptied myself in her cunt? No. She had to know. She was just letting me know she knew, without admitting it, while at the same time acting like she didn't know.

As I was leaving to allow her to get up and dressed, she spoke again but this time her voice was soft and sweet. "Cal, honey. I like to have a nap in the afternoon. Would you be a dear and bring me some tea after?"

"Yeah, Mom. I'll bring you some tea."

"Thanks, honey. But come in quietly, like you did this morning, and don't wake me if I'm sleeping." I nodded, and she blew me a kiss. I grinned as I skipped down the stairs. She was in for a long shag this afternoon, and a giant sperm attack.

Well group, I hope you think it was worth waiting for this postscript. I know I just couldn't wait to tell you. Mom has asked me to bring morning coffee and afternoon tea to her two or three days a week since then. One day, morning coffee lasted well over an hour and on another Mom I brought her 'tea' within ten minutes of her going up for her nap and left just minutes before Dad got home. My cock is so sore and chafed, I'm thinking about getting a skin graft.

I can kiss Mom, feel and suck her tits, finger her and even push my cock into her mouth as long as Dad isn't close enough to catch us. I just can't fuck her. At least so she has to admit it. I guess she can't engage in incest, or admit it to herself at least. I dying to have her when she's 'awake'. Just so you know, I'm working on that. By the way. Dad is happy because Mom dropped the barber thing. She told she just didn't have time for it, what with all the other things she had to do in a day. Bye for now.

----------------------------

That was it. The search for more letters from Frank and Francis had to wait. I needed to find Mom and convince her to put Dad to bed early. I left the study in search of Mom, unconcerned about the obvious bulge in my pants, or that we had just finished feeding him his dinner less than an hour ago. I was geared up for a sperm attack of my own.