The Mom Memories - Chapter 9 - Alwayswantedto - Literotica

 The Mom Memories Ch. 09

by alwayswantedto©

All characters are 18 years or older.

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From Ch. 08

I wanked myself for the first time in ages after reading Colin's letter. I made sure the cameras would record before going to bed, in case I slept in. I didn't want to miss anything..

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I slept in until almost noon the next day. There was nobody around when I wandered downstairs which wasn't unusual. Mom was normally gone by this time, golfing or visiting friends. Mary was likely around somewhere, possibly in Dad's room, and Paul was probably at school, like I should be. I grabbed a quick cup of java and sauntered into the study, still wearing just my pajama bottoms.

I turned on the monitor and loaded the surveillance program to see if anything had happened this morning other than breakfast chit-chat. While the recordings were loading, I shuffled through one of the newer bundles of letters. An update from Lorne distracted me from watching the morning's recordings.

I first told you about Lorne in Chapter 7. He was the whiner who had tricked his mom into believing his group of friends were getting some from their moms but he wasn't because he was adopted. He had played this hand well enough that his mom let him kiss her, touch her ass, and even rubbed herself on him when she got carried away necking with him.

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Hey, Lorne here. I haven't figured my mom out yet. I've had two chances to get close to her. The first time she let me neck with her but wouldn't let me see her tits, or commit to letting me take pictures like I told her the other guys got to do. Several days passed before the second time when she let me stay home sick from my summer job. She just wanted to talk to me about being with a woman but we necked anyway. With her laying on top of me, she got carried away and rubbed herself on me until I came. I'm not sure if she did or not, but I think so.

I don't know how far Mom will let me go. I'm sure she's only doing this because she believes me when I say the other moms are and she doesn't want me to be the only one left out. On the other hand, she waited days before letting me do something the second time, and it's been over a week since then. She doesn't exhibit any remorse so I don't think she's holding back because of guilt or anything like that, but she isn't exactly keen either. By the time she let's me do something, I've got blue balls and I'm ready to really have at her.

Thinking about what she'd said to me about women, I tried to be more aloof, to intrigue the woman I was interested in, as she put it. So, hard as it was, no pun intended, I decided to wait her out. This meant I was jerking off about four times a day. I tried to be around her a lot but without paying attention to her. When I got the urge to check out her body, I avoided her all together so she wouldn't catch me looking at her all the time like I'd done the last time. Maybe this was the wrong approach because, after all, when I'd done that before she had let me pretend to be sick and came to see me after Dad left. But that was also after I said the guys didn't believe I was getting anywhere. So I tried to convince myself that what really worked was doing something unexpected, and avoiding her was certainly not expected.

So I was sitting in the living room reading when Mom came in with a basket of laundry and began folding it and separating it into piles of mine, hers and Dad's on the couch. I was sitting in Dad's chair in the corner and she positioned herself right in front with her back to me, which wasn't where she usually stood when she did this. I couldn't help checking her out when she bent over to get clothes to fold from the basket.

I tried to keep to my plan of not staring at her, or approaching her first, but it was difficult. Mom was wearing a sleeveless blouse which showed off her nicely tanned arms, and a pleated skirt which fell almost to her knees but still showed off her nice legs, especially when she bent over to get stuff from the basket. Trying to be discreet, I only looked when she was bending over but my glances became longer and longer. But then, Mom was bending over longer and longer, evidently searching for a particular item to fold. When I noticed this, I realized that Mom was trying to attract my attention, quietly flaunting herself in a subtle way.

My attention then stayed on her even when straightened up to fold stuff, enjoying the outlines of her legs, the shake of her breasts which I could see from behind and to the side, and the toss of her hair when she stood up from retrieving an item. Every movement she made was so feminine. I could feel my excitement grow as I became convinced she was purposely putting on a little display for me.

I was surprised when she abruptly left the room but she returned just a few minutes later with another basket full of sheets and towels just before I adjusted myself to make it a little more comfortable for myself. I was pleased when she resumed her activities right in front of me again, working slowly rather than with the brisk efficiency she typically employed when doing housework. I certainly didn't want her to finish any time soon, that's for sure, and I wished Dad had gone fishing instead of puttering around in the yard.

Mom hadn't spoken to me the whole time she'd been folding clothes until she leaned over and then paused, reaching back to lay her hand flat on her right cheek.

"Oh," she complained, "I'm getting old." She pulled her skirt to scratch herself and then rubbed the hand up and down on her buttock, raising the skirt up high enough on each pull that I could see her panties come into view.

I didn't say anything, my attention firmly focused on her backside. Mom didn't look back, allowing me to watch at my heart's content, but I'm sure she knew where my mind and my eyes were. After a minute of this display, she resumed her folding.

"So," she said, startling me out of my reverie, "Are your friends showing you a little more respect now?"

"Respect?" I stumbled out.

"You know," she went on, "because now you can tell them you can do the same kind of stuff they do." She didn't look back at me, as if she didn't want to look at me and talk about it at the same time.

"Oh, that," I remarked as casually as I could. "I haven't really said anything."

Mom stopped, still not looking at me. "You haven't said anything?" She paused, then started folding the same towel over again. "Why not?"

"I thought it that was kind of special, you know, just for you and me to know."

Mom stopped folding the towel again. I couldn't tell what she thought about that, but I meant it. Even if I really was telling guys stuff, I don't think I'd tell anyone about our last time together, about her rubbing herself on me. She started folding again, same towel for the third time.

"They wouldn't believe me without proof, anyway," I added.

Mom finished the towel and leaned down to get another one, quickly this time, like she usually did, and folded it just as fast.

"Go see if your father is ready for lunch," she said, grabbing a sheet and starting to fold it.

When Dad came in, we sat down for some soup and sandwiches. Lunch time banter was the typical daily fair until Mom suddenly struck out on a tangent, "John, you know that fancy digital camera you have at work, are you using it much?"

"Nope," Dad replied.

"Is anyone else using it?" Mom queried further.

"I don't think so," Dad answered, "It mostly just lays around until someone needs it, which isn't much. We haven't used it since the Denison project."

"Do think I could use it?" Mom asked, "I want to take some close up pictures of our flowers. There so beautiful now. You could take it back if someone needed it."

"I don't see why not. I'll bring it home on Monday."

"Can't you get it today?" Mom asked, "I'd like to start tomorrow, it's supposed to be nice out."

"Tomorrow?" Dad complained. "Can't it wait until Monday? I was going to take Lorne fishing. We haven't gone for years."

"But I don't know how to work these new cameras and Lorne promised to help me. He works all week. It's not fair for you to take him fishing, you know he'd rather do that than stay and help me." Mom pouted at Dad. "Can't you drop in and get it this afternoon so he can show me how to work it tonight?"

"Oh, alright," Dad gave in, as he always did when Mom wanted something. I guess I was going fishing tomorrow, and showing Mom how to work a digital camera, something I was looking forward to as much as fishing, given Mom's slow learning curve with anything technical.

"We'll still get to go fishing, Lorne," Dad assured me, thinking I was actually looking forward to killing fish and, knowing about Mom's difficulty with technology, probably thinking better me than him.

After lunch, Dad went back outside and I returned to loll around on the couch, waiting for Mom to finish folding her laundry. She showed up lugging the ironing board which she proceeded to set up and started ironing, back to me again, after turning on the TV. This wasn't nearly as entertaining as watching her fold laundry, mostly because she didn't bend over to fetch things from the basket nearly as often. She did stay bent over for longer though, supposedly needing more time to pick out the next thing to iron, and she clearly wasn't going to finish anytime soon, so I didn't mind so much.

We didn't talk. Mom didn't pick up our earlier conversation and I felt too awkward to renew it, not knowing how to continue it along the lines that it had so abruptly ended. Mom ironed and watched some talk show and I read and watched Mom whenever she retrieved clothes from the basket. I was content.

Dad drifted through about an hour later, announcing that he was off to the office to pick up the camera, kind of pausing, waiting I think, for Mom to say not to worry about it and that Monday was fine. But she didn't. When he asked me to get off my butt and cut the lawn, she insisted that I was helping her by answering her questions about digital cameras. Dad obviously didn't want to interject himself into that one, and left.

I was curious about Mom's little lie about asking me about cameras, but didn't say anything. Clearly, she wanted to me to stay put, and I hoped it was to continue our earlier conversation. Mom kept ironing and watching TV for several minutes after Dad left.

"So you're still the low man on the stick with your friends, then?" she suddenly broke the silence, though in a quiet voice barely audible above the TV.

"What?" I asked, not quite sure what she'd said.

"Your friends," she went on, "they still don't believe you, still tease you?"

"Yes," I lied, maintaining my make believe role as a beleagured soul.

"They can't see that you're more knowledgeable about women now?"

"They don't believe I'm getting as much as they are, so why would they pay attention to what I have to say about women?" I replied, hoping to guilt her into another necking session while Dad was out. I was already thinking ahead, wondering how I could get her to lay on me like she had when I was 'sick' in bed. I wished I was laying on the couch, but it was now covered in folded clothes. But her next comment made me forget about necking all together.

"So what kind of pictures would you need?" she asked, continuing to iron.

"Pictures?" I was stunned. Mom kept ironing.

"Yeah, pictures. You said you needed proof for these so-called friends of yours."

"Oh, those." I was slow to react, caught off guard, my mind reeling.

"I don't think I could show my boobs," she went on, "I know you want me to, but I don't think I can do that." Mom seemed flustered, her hand moving the iron back and forth faster along the pant leg she was ironing. She couldn't let me see her tits but she could rub herself to orgasm on me? I guess if things just happened, that was one thing, but purposely doing something was another.

"Well, uh ..., well" I stammered, "how about your legs? You have really nice legs, Mom. How about some pictures of your legs?"

"My legs?" Mom looked relieved, and the iron slowed.

"Yeah. But it would have to look like you were showing them to me, not like I just sneaked some pictures when you weren't looking."

"Showing you?" Mom asked.

"Yeah Mom," I was beginning to get into this, "You'd have to look like your were purposely showing off your legs, ... higher, you know ... with your skirt way up."

"I'll have to get some new pantyhose then. All of mine are torn," she mused. "What do you mean by way up? Not all the way?"

"No, not all the way," I agreed, assuring her that there would be limits. "But you don't need to get new pantyhose," I continued, not wanting a delay though I'm sure she'd look great in pantyhose, "it would be better just like you are, with bare legs." Thinking for a moment, I added, "Or maybe you could wear the old kind of stockings, you know, the kind that have those strap things to hold them up." I felt myself stirring as a picture of Mom in these popped into my mind.

Mom laughed. "Oh, so you want to see me in stockings and garters do you?" She laughed again, the tension clearly easing. "And will that make up for not seeing my boobs?" Her amusement was clearly evident in her voice.

I laughed as well. "Well, it would certainly be more convincing if you at least showed some cleavage," I couldn't help pushing for more while making like I was continuing with our little joke. I had learned that this was a good approach when you were trying to get more than you deserved.

"Maybe we should wait until next week, then," Mom countered, "I have a bruise on my leg."

I looked Mom's legs up and down, closely. I didn't see any bruise or any other unflattering marks and said so. I didn't think she was teasing me because I'd been playing it pretty cool, trying hard not to act too eager. I wasn't sure, but maybe she really was concerned about a blemish showing. I mean, women can be quite concerned about their looks, especially if captured permanently in pictures.

"You aren't going to let them keep the pictures, are you? You're just going to let them look at them, right?"

"Absolutely. I won't let them keep them."

"Promise?"

"Yeah, Mom. I promise."

"Ok." She turned directly toward me for the first time, squarely facing me as I sat in Dad's chair. "Seriously, though, maybe we should wait until this bruise goes away."

"I don't see a bruise, Mom."

"Well, you will if you want me to pull my skirt up for pictures," she said.

I ignored this. "Where is it?" I asked.

Mom lifted her skirt a couple of inches to maybe halfway up her thigh. Not quite. "There," she said.

I couldn't see anything but took my time looking, I think enjoying Mom lifting her skirt for me more than actually looking at her legs. I lifted my hands, palms out and up, with the accompanying 'I don't get it' expression. Mom pulled her skirt up another inch. I shook my head, winning another inch. Still, I shook my head. I was afraid to use my voice in case it cracked and betrayed the calm, not all that interested demeanor I was trying so hard to convey.

"You need your eyes checked." Mom said, suddenly lifting her left foot and putting it on the seat of the chair beside my leg. "There," she twisted her knee out a little, opening the inside of her thigh. "You must be going blind," she added, her voice exasperated.

True enough, there was a small bruise on the lower part of the inside of her thigh, on the really soft fatty part that hung down from the bone. I was enthralled by the opportunity to so closely examine Mom's leg, my eyes tracing its curvature as it widened from her knee to the bottom of her thigh.

"Are you sure this won't ruin your pictures?" Mom asked, her fingers pulling around the small bruise to emphasize it, the back of her hand pushing the skirt even higher, allowing me to glimpse the lower part of her panties.

In answer, I framed my hands in a rectangle, like the viewfinder in a camera, and 'snapped' a picture. I then looked down at my left palm as if looking at a picture, "Nope, can't really see it."

"Joker," she laughed, tousling my hair with her free hand. "But I think it would show on a real one," she was suddenly serious again. "Would you have to take pictures this high?"

"At least, Mom. Even higher. It won't convince those guys if they can't even see your panties. It's either tits or panties," I said.

"Lorne, don't talk like that. You know I don't like it."

"Sorry Mom. But if you're going to let me take pictures, they have to be convincing."

Mom tousled my hair again, this time slowly. "I know, dear, I know."

I took advantage of her soft moment, reaching out with my fingertip to touch the small bruise. "I don't think this will matter." I circled the little bruise, round and round, pushing in to make a dent in her leg, pulling the skin away from her panties just inches away. Mom moved her hand out of my way, placing it on top of my head with her other one.

"Are there any more bruises there?" she asked.

"Not that I can see," I replied after craning my neck around, looking for bruises but really eyeing up her panties.

"Any other marks?" she asked.

"Nope," I responded a moment later, immensely enjoying the opportunity to eye up the area near the secret garden from which I should have sprang. When she asked if I was sure, I knew she was getting in the mood, especially when she leaned forward, opening her legs even wider. I moved my face very close, thrilling in her faint musky odor.

"Better let me check out your other leg, Mom."

Mom lowered her foot to the floor and lifted her right foot but I didn't shift over to make room so she had to raise it up to the arm instead of beside me on the seat. She pulled her skirt up. I pushed her knee out with my left hand and leaned in to look, putting the tip of my right index finger on the bottom of her thigh near her knee. As I examined her, I traced my finger along the bottom of her leg until it was only an inch away from her panties in the little hollow where her leg joined her groin.

"Hmmmm," I leaned in for a closer look, peering intently at her leg near my finger, "what's this?"

I moved my finger around in a tiny circle, scratching it back and forth beside the edge of Mom's panties. "Hmmmm," I repeated, trying to sound very concerned, continuing to scratch softly at her leg.

"What?" Mom asked, also sounding concerned, leaning down to look herself, her legs widening as she did, but my head was in the way, so close my nose was almost touching her pussy. I could see the hairlines mashed under her cotton panties, could trace the groove running down the center of her mound with my eyes, and struggled not to stick my tongue out to test her enticing cleft. I couldn't help inhaling through my nose.

"What?" she asked again, a faint worry evident in her voice.

"Nothing," I said, reluctantly pulling my face back but considering it necessary lest she think there was something there that nobody should see, especially in pictures. "It's nothing," I repeated. As she relaxed, pulling back, her legs narrowing, I added, "But you better let me take a look at the backs of your legs, just to be sure."

"The back? I don't think that will be necessary."

"Mom," I took on an insistent tone, "The pictures have to be convincing. If I only have pictures from one angle, they'll just think I got lucky, but if they can see from different directions, they'll know you were showing me."

Mom nodded, agreening with my invented-just-in-time logic. I pressed forward, not wanting her to think too much, "Come on, let's have a look."

I pushed her leg down, as much as I didn't want to, and urged her to turn around with my hands on the sides of her thighs. Slowly, she twisted around until she was facing away from me but then just stood, as if unsure about what to do. I pulled her skirt up. She put her hands down, blocking me from raising her skirt higher. 

"Mom, I'm just going to take a quick look to make sure you don't have any bruises or marks."

I pushed her skirt higher, her hands yielding before mine, but still there. I kept pushing until the hem of her skirt was above the top of her thighs, exposing the very bottom of her panties. I asked her to hold her skirt there while I looked, using my finger again to trace around her legs. Starting at the back of her leg, I quickly ran it between her legs, below the spot I so dearly wanted to touch, that magic area she had rubbed against me when she'd gotten carried away. How could I get her into that space again?

Unable to come up with a new idea, I tried the same gambit again.

"Hmmmm," I mumbled, stopping my fingers on the inside of her left thigh, bringing them all together, flat against her leg, and pushed out to widen the gap between her legs. She moved her feet, yielding to accommodate my pressure as I, unnoticed, pushed her skirt higher up her back.

"Lean forward a bit so I can see," I instructed.

Mom leaned forward, her head twisting around to look back to see what was going on.

"More," I insisted, pushing out on her leg to widen the gap even more.

Both my wishes came true. Mom was now leaning far enough forward that she put her left hand on her knee to prop herself up. I held her skirt at the very top of her bum, leaving her buttocks exposed, even above the top of her panties which drew a line only half way up her cheeks. I had seen my Mom in a two piece swimsuit before but not this small, and I had never had the opportunity to sit closely behind her, examining her ass. God, this was great!

"Hold your skirt for a minute," I instructed, looking concerned and leaning in to look closely at her backside.

Mom took hold of her skirt, allowing me to pull my hand away. At the same time, I leaned back, joined my hands together and pretended to take a picture again.

"Snap," I said, "picture perfect," and laughed.

"Ohhhh, you brat!" Mom exclaimed, standing up, her skirt falling back into place, turning to faint a slap at me, her face flushed and smiling as I leaned back in the chair to get away. "You brat!" she yelled.

Mom jumped onto the chair, her legs straddling the arms to pin me in place, and pretended to beat on me.

"Mom, mom," I cried, laughing.

"You're just making fun of me."

"No, no," I cried, my laugher growing fainter. "Really. If you let me take pictures of you like that, it will be awesome. They'll be blown away." I raised my hands in picture mode and 'snapped' another of her as she slowed her assault on me.

"You look beautiful when you're mad." I 'snapped' again. "Especially when your face is so flushed." Snap.

"You got me all worked up," she said.

I snapped another 'picture' of her face, then lowered my hands to 'snap' another of her chest. Seeing where my hands were pointing, she slapped them away, but I kept returning them to 'snap' more pictures of her chest. She finally gave up, so I continued taking fake pictures of her breasts, and she let me.

"Why are men so consumed with breasts?" Mom asked.

"I don't know, Mom, but you know they'll want to see them."

"I'm not going to show my breasts to those creeps," she insisted.

I 'snapped' another pic. "Just a little cleavage then," I said and added, when she didn't seemed moved, "It would be more convincing if you opened your blouse just a little."

I paused, watching Mom digest what I'd said, seeing her buy the logic.

"Just a button or two," I prompted, snapping another picture, then dropped my hands to urge her elbows up, letting go to snap another pic. Snap, snap as her fingers reached her blouse. She stared straight ahead, not looking down at me, as her fingers undid the top button of her blouse. I forgot to snap a pretend picture as I stared, my eyes glued to her fingers. Her hands hung in the air in front of her blouse as the button came undone.

I 'snapped' another picture. "That's it, Mom. Like that." Snap.

Her fingers moved to the next button. Snap. The material moved as her fingers fidgeted. Snap, my index finger moved again, as if pushing a real button.

Mom kind of slumped when the second button came undone, still looking blankly ahead. Her groin fell on mine as her weight shifted, her feet lifting from the floor and her knees dangling over the arms of the chair.

I could feel the heat of her as her panties came into contact with me. I realized then that I was already hard which momentarily panicked me, thinking she would jerk back angrily when she noticed, but she didn't. She just slumped down, pressing warmly against my hardon, looking blankly at the wall behind us.

Her hands were still held in front of her, poised by the button she'd just undone.

"One more," I whispered. Hesitantly, Mom's fingers began their work again, seconds later opening her blouse a little more.

"Just one more, for good measure," I whispered again.

"Is that what you want?" she asked, still staring ahead.

"It's what they'll want."

A pause and then, falteringly, her fingers moved to the fourth button. A moment later it too was undone. Mom's hands dropped to her sides, then moved up so that her hands were flat on my shoulders. I 'snapped' another picture.

She looked amazing. I had never seen my mother in a low cut dress. This was the most exposed I'd ever seen her chest. Her blouse was undone to the bottom of her breasts. I could see where her bar joined together at the bottom. The upper half of her breasts were bare, the swells straining to be free of the cups.

I was getting harder as I looked, and I couldn't help straining up against the heat of her. She didn't flinch away. She didn't seem to even be aware at that my cock was pulsing against her.

"Is this what you wanted?"

"Yes," I whispered, my voice dry and cracking, not bothering to continue the charade that it was just for my 'friends'.

"Then have a good look," she said, her gaze shifting from the wall to my face. "Your father will be home soon."

"Push up for the picture," I whispered, holding my hands up in fake camera mode.

Her blouse parted as she did, exposing the inside of her breasts. I reveled in her beauty. I'm sure I told her she was beautiful, or awesome, or something like that, or both. I know she smiled at what I said, looking pleased. I know I did say I would never show real pictures of her if she let me see all of her. "Maybe without the camera, one day," she answered.

"Why?" I asked, finding my voice again, "Don't you like the way I take pictures?" I smiled, faking some snaps again.

"Actually, it was fun," she admitted. Then, looking intently at me, "Did you like taking them, or were you just trying to get a look?"

She kind of caught me off guard. "No," I said truthfully, for once. "I think I liked taking the pictures more. It was exciting."

"I thought so, too." Mom smiled, her face suddenly softening. "Would you like to practice kissing a little before Dad gets home?"

I answered by stretching up to meet her lips. Mom lowered herself to help and I pushed up more when I felt her weight come down, pressing the warmth of her panties firmly against me. She slipped her hands under my arms and pulled her self down even harder and slipped her tongue into my mouth when I thrust my hips up to meet her. We were kissing hard, panting, and rocking against each other when we heard the car door slam. We hadn't heard Dad pull into the driveway.

We almost fell into the ironing board as we leapt awkwardly to our feet. I had just started upstairs when Dad came through the door. Looking back, I could see Mom running the cold iron back and forth on the same pants. Though she was turned partly away, I knew her blouse must still be undone almost to her skirt.

Thank god, Dad turned to me with the camera in hand. I asked him a couple of dumb questions, keeping his attention on me as Mom came to her senses and quickly did up her blouse. Dad suddenly turned, said hi to mom, and wheeled through the kitchen and out the door into the backyard. I stood there, real camera in hand, looking at Mom. We both had stunned looks on our faces, then slowly broke out into grins, and then nervous laughter.

I walked down the two steps to the floor and raised the camera to my face, slowly stepping toward Mom, still smiling. Click. Another step. Click.

Mom raised her hands high above her head, cocking her hips and pushing her breasts out. Amazingly, she moved her hands to her blouse again. Two buttons were loosened before I clicked again. "More," I whispered, repeating our game.

"More?" she teased.

Click, I answered.

"More?" she whispered huskily.

Click. Another button. Click.

"More," I gasped.

Another button. Click. She parted her blouse again. We'd reached our previous game point in less than a minute. The return trip is always faster they say. Click.

Then another button. Click. Her blouse was open all the way to her skirt. Click. She moved her fingers to her bra.

"Put the camera down."

"Put it down," she repeated.

I set the camera down on the floor. Her fingers moved and her hands pulled away. Nothing looked different. Then I noticed. Her bra was undone. I could see her skin as it pulled apart. I raised my hands into a mock camera. Snap.

Mom cocked her hip out to one side, her waist bending and her shoulder lowering. The blouse opened a little more. Snap. She straightened in mock disdain, her back arching, thrusting her chest up and forward, and the blouse away to the side. The gap between her bra opened wider, showing the crease under her sweet globes, but it still covered most of her breasts. I stepped close to her, looking down at her chest.

"Memories are better than pictures," she said. "They last forever. Would you like one?" she asked.

I nodded.

"Then take it."

I raised my hand to her blouse, unsure of myself. She waited. I pinched the material of her blouse between the fingers of each hand and slowly peeled her blouse off to the side, leaving her only her bra covering her breasts.

"Is that the memory you want?" she whispered.

"No," I cried hoarsely.

Mom breathed out, her chest expanding toward me.

I grasped her bra and pulled it apart. I stood there, holding her bra apart and stared in wonder as her breasts sprang free. They sagged a little, but they were wonderful tits. Her nipples stuck up, surrounded by a nice brown surround.

"Disappointed?" she asked.

"No," I cried, clearly not.

"You like them?"

"Yes!" I answered enthusiastically. "I love them."

Mom laughed. "Well, I think that's going a bit far."

"No. I love them," I insisted.

"Ok, you love them," Mom laughed.

I let go of the bra and slipped my hands inside, cupping her tits gently in my palms.

"No, Lorny, no." Mom gasped. "Your father's right outside. No," she insisted as my grip tightened. She pushed me back.

"Be patient," she said. "I'll let you look some more tonight while you're showing me how to work the camera." She did up her bra and started on her blouse. "Now go out and cut the lawn for your Dad."

The rest of the afternoon was a blur. I couldn't think about anything else but my Mom. I was back to sneaking looks at her all the time but this time, she didn't seem mad. She just smiled at me, like we were sharing something private. She even seemed pleased by my attention, keeping up a lively banter with Dad during dinner as if to distract him. Mom had set dinner at the kitchen table that night instead of the dining room and she pressed her knee against mine several times during the meal.

After dinner, Mom and Dad went into the living room while I cleared the table, loaded the dishwasher, and cleaned the counters. Joining my parents in the living room, I found Dad sitting in the chair I had so much enjoyed this afternoon, and Mom sitting on the couch. Dad was watching TV and Mom was doing a crossword.

"Come and help me, Lorne" she asked when I came in, patting the seat beside her on the couch, next to her feet which were tucked up beside her. As I sat down, she rearranged her skirt, the same loose pleated job she'd worn earlier, untucking it to bare her lower legs. As she worked her puzzle, asking me questions from time to time, the skirt pulled up over her knee and even showed the underside of her thigh. My cock stiffened as I remembered how she let me touch her legs this afternoon.

Her pencil rested on her lower lip as she thought and every once in while, on its journey back there after making an entry in the book, she stopped to let the eraser rest between her blouse. It was only then that I noticed she had actually undone two buttons. She smiled just then, as if aware of my discovery. The pencil moved sideways, pushing the blouse apart, exposing the upper swells of her breasts, the ones I had briefly cupped in my hands only hours earlier. It seemed like a dream.

She was right about memories. Her tits were more vividly expressed in my mind than any picture, more intense than any porn movie I'd watched on the internet. My memory had touch, the feel of her perfectly rounded lower breasts as they rested in my palms. And sound, the sound of her breathing as it quickened when my fingers first brushed past her tits, something I was just realizing now as I examined that memory. Mom had been excited too!

I watched her use the pencil to play with the tops of her breasts as she stared earnestly at the crossword. Leaning in to look, I allowed my hand to slip between her calf and thigh, pressing her warm flesh on each side as I pushed in. Mom didn't object, the corners of her mouth even turning up slightly, producing a thin smile on her face.

"Hmmmm," she mused, "I don't know about that."

"What?" I froze, thinkg she was referring to my action. Still I couldn't help leaning in further and twisting hand so my palm faced her thigh.

"I don't know," she replied, "this is a tough one."

"It doesn't look so tough to me," I replied, my fingers reaching the other thigh and sliding up along the crease between her legs.

Mom's smile deepened but then flattened quickly as I neared the apex of her legs. "Maybe you should let me work on it myself." I could feel her trying to push my hand away.

"No. You've got me hooked now," I said, pushing my hand further up her legs, closer to her treasure pot.

"If you keep bugging me, I'll make you show me how to work the camera."

Dad smiled, hearing that remark. "Be careful, son," he chipped in.

I pulled back, relaxing my hand, keeping it still, but I left it in place.

After I stayed still for a moment, Mom also relaxed, content to let me stay where I was. A moment later, her legs relaxed more, making it easier for me to move. I wiggled my fingers between her thighs, and brushed my thumb across the back of her thighs. Why I was allowed to do this, I don't know, but she let me do it for quite a while, and I never tried to force my hand higher again. After a long while, Mom said it was time for me to show her how to use the camera.

"Where is it?" she asked, "looking around. Have you hidden it?"

"No, it's in my room. I was checking it out so I'd know how to show you how it works."

"Let's go then. Come on," she said, "you may as well get it over with."

Trying hard to look unhappy, I followed Mom up the stairs, my eyes on her legs, the tantalizing swivel of her hips, and her behind. When we got into my room, I closed the door behind me.

"Where do you want me?" she asked. "Do you just want me to just stand here and hold my skirt up?"

"Mom. Come on."

"Well?" she asked.

"On the bed, please. Just lie on your side."

"Should I try to look sexy?"

"Just be yourself, please."

Mom lay on the bed and watched me while I got the camera ready. She kicked her shoes off while she waited and slid the foot of her upper leg slowly up and down along the lower one. Her tongue traced the line of her upper lip as she pushed her foot down her leg. Her hand rested on her hip and as I turned to look at her, the camera ready, she pulled the skirt up her thigh and onto her hip.

"Is that what you want, baby? Do you want your Mom to show her legs for you?"

"Yes, Mom. Please. Show me your legs."

"Ok. But don't show my face."

Mom slid her foot up and down her leg, slowly pulling her skirt higher and higher until the hem rested on her hip on one side. I clicked away. Her legs were bare almost all the way up as her knee bent to let her foot slide up, her thighs gaping wide open. Her panties peeked out each time her thighs opened like that. I closed in to get some good pictures, gasping when I noticed that she wasn't wearing the white cotton panties she'd worn that afternoon.

She was wearing a pair of sheer, black lace panties now. They were much narrower through the crotch yet I couldn't see any hair poking out. Clicking away, favoring many shots instead of the perfect one, I realized that her hair wasn't just tucked in, there was less of it. She had shaved to get ready for this! At least, she had trimmed herself. My cock bulged in my jeans.

"That's it," she whispered, "take some close ups for those pigs. They'll want the vulgar stuff, won't they?"

She pulled her skirt high, showing all of her sheer panties. Twisting onto her back, she planted both feet wide, spreading her legs for me, like she was waiting for an inspection or getting ready to give birth. Click, click, click.

"Lift up," I whispered.

She lifted her hips.

"Again," I whispered.

She let herself down and lifted again, holding herself thrust up.

"Again," I whispered, very excited, "keep doing it. We'll show those pigs."

Mom repeated her pushing up several more times. I kept clicking away.

"Faster," I almost begged her.

She started thrusting up and back, her ass moving up and down, her pussy almost pulsing in her panties as she mimicked fucking.

Suddenly she threw her legs out straight, almost kicking me in the face, and turned onto her stomach, her legs together. Her skirt covered her ass as she lay there. I reached out with one hand an flipped her skirt up, baring her flimsy panties which barely covered her bottom, only reaching a third of the way, if that, up her cheeks. And I could see right through them to boot. I clicked away.

Leaning closer, I pushed her legs apart, a little at first as I snapped pictures of her ass, then wider as I moved in, getting closeups of her panties between her legs and the outline of her pussy underneath.

"This will look really hot, Mom." I put the camera down and pushed the legs of her panties together with my fingers, tugging them up into a single strand that I stretched between her cheeks. Her bottom was now essentially bare, the cheeks accented by the divide of the panties buried in her crack. She lay docile while I picked up the camera and took my time taking pictures.

"Lift up," I suggested. Mom raised her ass, her legs tightening with the effort, her back arching. She looked so incredibly sexy, and acted even more so as she raised her ass more without waiting for me to ask.

"Do you like that, Lorny"

"They'll love it, Mom."

"Do you like it?"

"Yes, Mom. I like it too."

"Why do young men like this? You're so different now. Your father has never asked me to turn over. Our generation always does it the same way, in front, with the man on top."

I was stunned that she had mentioned her sex life with Dad, and that she was clearly bored. I put the camera down, letting her feel it against her leg so she knew I was concentrating on her instead of taking pictures. I let my hand touch the back of her leg, trailing my fingers up the back of her thigh to her bum.

"I don't know, Mom. I think we know that women like to be enjoyed in more ways now."

"Do the other boys do things like this with their moms? Show their behinds?"

"They say they do." I heard Mom suck in her breath. "I've seen pictures," I lied. I let my fingers trace a feather light path across the back of her panties. Her breath sucked in hard again and her ass twitched, but she didn't say anything to stop me.

"A couple of them have said their mom's really like it." I ran my fingers back across her panties again.

"Really?" Mom whispered, turning her face to one side.

"Yeah," I brushed my fingers back and forth. "They're the top dogs, the leaders."

"Because they get to do that?"

"Yeah." I was now just running my fingers all over her ass, not just across her panties but on the bare cheeks above. "They showed pictures of their mom's bare asses, but they weren't anywhere as nice as yours, Mom." I continued my delicate caress. "It would blow them all away if they could see yours, ... bare."

I stopped talking but kept rubbing, back and forth, lightly, softly.

Mom stretched her hands back to her sides. She's going to stop me now, I thought. Just a few more brushes, Mom. Just let me touch your ass a little longer, I thought. Her ass lifted and her hands moved up to her sides. I pulled my hand away, so she didn't have to actually force me to stop. But her hands grasped the sides of her panties and pushed hem down until they rested on her thighs, baring her buttocks, still stuck between her cheeks where I'd tugged them up a few minutes earlier. She didn't say anything. Neither did I.

I returned my fingers to continue my soft caress across her buttocks, using a more circular motion to softly cup her cheeks, even trailing my finger down her crack. I paused to tug her panties down, pulling them all the way along her legs and off her feet. I picked up the camera and took a few pictures. Mom spread her legs a bit after a few clicks. Click, click, click, click. I nudged her knees farther apart and put the camera into movie mode just as she lifted her ass, baring the back of her open, bare pussy. It glistened in the light.

"Will they like that? Will that do it for you?" I don't know how she got the words out, her breathing was so erratic.

"Absolutely, Mom. You're awesome."

"No more pictures, now."

I tossed the camera down.

"Did you like it, Lorny?"

"Yes."

"Do you love your Mom now?"

"I always have, Mom," choking, my voice breaking with the emotion of the moment.

"Am I your real Mommy?"

"Oh Mom," I cried, flopping down and hugging her.

"That feels good," she whispered. "Lay on me like that."

"Ok, Mom." I scrunched into her ass.

"Lorne, don't," she complained, "your jeans are too rough."

I stood and quickly shucked my jeans. She hadn't said I could take them off but she knew I was and she still lay there waiting, her legs still spread, naked from the waist down. I kneeled behind her and lowered myself, looking down as I lined up my hard cock with her ass. She raised it to meet me just before I connected with her.

"Is this what they do with their moms?"

"That's what they said," I assured her

"And yo want me to let you? Just once?"

"Yes," I gasped.

"Ok then," she said. "Make sure you make a good memory."

Tentatively, I rubbed myself against her, pushing her ass down into the mattress.

"Yes, like that," she cried, turning her face down, muffling her voice in the mattress. I thrust harder against her ass and began rubbing myself up and down between her cheeks. Her hands snaked underneath herself. I couldn't see but I'm sure she was rubbing her pussy. I started dry humping her as if I was actually fucking her from behind. I lost control, I went wild. Minutes later, I burst, soaking my shorts with my sticky liquid at the same time Mom stiffened and criet out into the bed.

A few minutes later she got up and left, leaving her black panties on my bed. I put them under my pillow before going to the bathroom. As I walked down the hall I could hear my parents arguing.

"I don't care if you want to go fishing," my mother was saying, "I need Lorne to help me with the camera tomorrow, so you'll just have to go by yourself. I need more time to learn."

"Ok, dear, ok," my father's voice filtered up the stairs. "I'll go by myself."

My cock was hard and in my hand by the time I entered the bathroom. The next day I looked disappointed as my father explained that I had to stay home with my mother, that it was for the best in the long run. If I took my time with her, he promised, he'd make it up to me.

I wore a huge smile as I walked, no, stalked up the stairs as Dad's car pulled way. I didn't wait any five minutes like Mom had. My pajamas were stretched to the breaking point as I walked down the hall toward Mother's room.

She was laying on her stomach when I came in, supposedly sleeping, though I knew she wasn't. I clicked a few pictures but she didn't stir. I peeled the covers down her back, baring her shoulders, pausing to take a few more pictures. Slinging the camera, I pulled the covers down to her knees, pausing again to take pictures. I waited after clicking, knowing she was expecting me to pull the covers down further but instead I lifted her nightie up over her buttocks, baring her behind. She wasn't wearing any panties. I was rewarded by the sharp intake of her breath. Clearly, my mother liked ass attention. How had neither of my parents discovered this in all their years of marriage?

With a sudden jerk, I yanked the covers all the way off, dumping them past Mom's feet to the floor at the end of the bed. Surprised, her breath sucked in hard. I paused again for effect. I was really enjoying this. I couldn't imagine any girl my age playing along like this. I loved the taper of her legs, her feet turned in. Gently, I took her feet in my hand, running my thumbs softly up and down the insteps of her feet, then pulled them slowly apart. I reached in to pry her knees open and then further to spread her thighs.

Click, click, click. I raised one foot. Click, click. Raised the other. Click, click. Pushed one down and bent the other over to lay on it. Click, click. Opened her legs wide again. Click, click. Then nothing.

The seconds dragged by. Then, slowly, starting with only a tensing of muscles along her legs, her ass lifted. Just a tiny bit. Click, click. Up a little more. Click, click, click. Higher. Click, click, click, click.

I leaned on the bed, between her legs, sighting the camera directly at her pussy, now clearly visible, from below. Click, click, click. Then nothing again.

Mom didn't move.

"Higher," I whispered, barely audible.

Her knees shifted up as pushed her ass farther from the bed. Click, click, click.

"Wider."

Her knees shifted out, lowering her ass. Her pussy lips parted. Click, click, click. I knew this camera would capture the shine as her nether lips glistened in the morning light. Click, click, click. Stop.

Again, no movement.

"Touch it."

No reaction.

"I need a picture with your hand there, for the finale. Please Mom."

Nothing. Then, two slender, feminine fingers appeared through the wedge of her legs and red polish covered her pinkish slit. Click.

Her fingers stayed. I crawled off the bed but Mom stayed as still as I dropped my pajamas as quietly as I could.

Click.

Did I see her fingers move?

"Just one more, Mom. A closeup."

I crawled up on the bed again and moved in behind her. Yes. There. Her fingers moved. She rubbed herself. Holding my cock, I lined myself up, moving as close as I could, hoping she wouldn't suddenly move her fingers back and discover my impending attack.

SHOVE!

I was in! PUSH! Get in her, my mind screamed, get in before she throws you off. Get in her! All the way!

"OHHHHHHHHH."

Was that me or her.

Grind! Shove, shove, shove.

"Unnngh, ugh, ugh."

It was her! Fuck, fuck, fuck.

She was loose, she was wet, I was moving easily. I was fucking her ... faster, faster, hard.

I looked down. She wasn't fighting me. Her head was still down on the pillow, her face turned to the side. She was moaning, continually, gettin louder each time I shoved in. GOD, she was fantastic! I slammed harder against her thighs. She moaned louder. Harder, harder, harder. Her face was rocking against the pillow, her breath exploding out of her mouth. I grabbed her waist and started pulling her back with each thrust. I was going to come already! I couldn't stop it. I could feel it. OUT, it was squirting out. I jammed forward and pushed my cock in as far as I could, followed by little lunges with every squirt, my toes digging into the mattress to help me shove into her.

I was empty. I held her, gasping. Her breath was rasping out, her legs slowly giving way under my weight, her feet stretching out. I fell with her until we were flat on the bed, my cock still in her. My hands slid up her waist to cup her tits, squeezing them, finding each nipple and pinching them between by fingers.

We lay like that, regaining our breath until we were breathing normally. Not a word was spoken. Our breathing was the only sound in the room. I began rolling her nipples. They hadn't softened but I could still feel them stiffen as I pinched and tugged on them too. I renewed tiny little fuck motions against her ass.

"Lorny,"

She was going to make me stop. I made my fuck motions a little bigger.

"Lorny."

A stroke. Just a little one, then another, and another.

"Ohhh, Lorny," she sighed, "that's so nice."

Fuck, fuck, fuck. The mattress was moving beneath us now as I put more weight into my thrusts.

"Do you ... really ... like it ... like this ... this way?"

"I love ... it ... Mom."

"Unngghhh," she burst out as I threw in a hard one to emphasize my point.

"Unngghh, unnnghhh, unnnggghhh," she moaned as I began rocking into, starting to really get into it again as my cock became fully hard again.

I reached forward and gently pulled her head up. I kept fucking into her as I whispered directly into her ear.

"You love ... it ... too ... don't ... you ... from behind?"

We were really getting intense now. She was shoving herself back at me, fucking me as much as I was fucking her.

"Yesssss ... I ... love it!"

I stopped talking then and just got into our fuck. It was better and longer than the first. Very intense. I thought it would have been uncomfortable for Mom, holding her head up like that, but she seemed to like it. I guess she'd had her fill of comfortable, ordinary sex.

We rested after that. There was no recrimination for my surprise attack, nor did she express any guilt that we had gone all the way. We just cuddled, and chatted, and had a few laughs. Then I started to fondle her again, slowly working up to more overtly sexual touching until I was once again in her, from behind of course. She kept turned away from me. I put her on her side, spread her legs and did her that way for a while, then got her up on her knees and held her feet up as I worked myself in her and then, finally, I got above her, on my feet and drove down into her. She seemed to love the lewdness of this, becoming quite vocal from the first shove at this angle. After that, we were hungry and went downstairs. Me first, and then Mom after her shower.

Mom came downstairs completely nude. I have to say that even after the morning's romp, I was shocked. Her hair was covered in a towel in that way that women do after washing their hair, but she was otherwise naked as a jaybird. She smiled at me, laying plates out on the table, and went straight to the counter to finish making the sandwiches I had started. I turned to watch her, amazed at her nonchalance, her confidant beauty. She did have a picture perfect ass for a woman her age.

My cock hardened with that thought. God, could I do it again? I stiffened more as I focused on her cheeks. Why did she love it so much from behind? Was it just new, or did she really like having her ass touched? I remembered how excited she'd become every time I looked at or touched her ass. Maybe that was it. Maybe her ass was really sensual for her.

I got up, downed my pajama bottoms, and walked up to stand behind her, as quietly as I could, but she knew I was there.

"You look beautiful," I said, "especially like this." I put my hands around her and kissed her on the side of her neck. She just smiled.

I let my cock poke against her ass.

"After lunch, Lorny."

"Ok," I conceded, "I'll just play a little."

"Alright, but don't get too carried away."

I reached around and scooped up some butter in my fingers.

"What are you up to? she asked. How strange that only yesterday she would have chewed me out for wasting food.

My hand disappeared from sight behind her. I stepped back and rubbed the butter all over her right cheek.

"Lorny!" she gasped. "Stop that. I've just had a shower."

"Well," I laughed, "you'll just have to have another with me, after we get all greased up."

"Are you trying to get us all slippery? Is it better that way?"

"Yeah Mom. That's it. I'm going to make us slippery." I think my Mom was quite naïve, even for her pre-internet age. I scooped some more butter and spread it over her other cheek, then returned for another big handful which I started to spread between her cheeks.

"I have some baby oil we could have used instead of this if you'd just waited until we got back upstairs," she complained. She wasn't happy about the mess but I could tell she was getting excited again by the way her butt was moving against my hand as I began caressing her cheeks more than just rubbing stuff on them. I also began dipping my fingers deeper between her cheeks and down to her pussy, rubbing the butter in well.

When I reached for my last scoop of soft butter, I noticed she had stopped making the sandwiches. She was just standing there letting me feel and rub her, swaying back against my hands and fingers. I knew right then she was going to let me fuck her here in the kitchen. I leaned against her back with my left arm, pushing her over the counter a little and pushed her legs apart with my foot. She definitely knew I was preparing her for a fuck, but she let me open her anyway.

"Lorny, no. Wait until after lunch."

"But my cock is hard now, Mom."

"But Lorny, I'm hungry."

"So am I Mom." I cupped my fingers over her pussy and ran it right up her ass crack, dipping my fingers in to drag them across her rear hole. I repeated this a couple more times and then let the tip of my longest finger nudge into her little hole.

"Ohhhh. What are you doing?"

"You mean here?" I asked, circling my slippery fingertip around her bud.

"Yes. ohhhhhh. What are you doing?"

I circled and circled, moving my left hand around to her mouth, I began circling her lips the same way.

"I was just thinking of doing this, Mom." I pushed my finger into her mouth, then pulled it back out.

"No, Lorny. I don't think I'd like that?"

I circled her mouth again. I hadn't stopped circling her rosebud.

"Doesn't this feel good, Mom?"

"It's ... different," she gasped.

I plunged my finger into her mouth and at the same time, poked the tip of my finger into her anus.

"Ohhhhhhhhhh," she gasped around my finger.

I pulled my finger out of her mouth but left the other one in her ass. I circled her lips, pushing them into an open 'O' while I wiggled my finger in her butt, then slowly began moving it in and out. I took my time working from the first to the second knuckle, matching movements with the finger in her mouth. In and out, and in and out. She let out a guttural exhalation - that's the best I can describe the sound, not quite a moan - when I pushed a second finger in, mouth and ass. I'm sure her reaction was to ass invasion. Eyes closed and head down, she moaned loudly as I pushed the two fingers all the say in, holding them there, barely moving, while I pulled my fingers out of her mouth and gently stroked up and down her throat.

"Lorny, what are you doing to me?" She had difficulty getting that out, her breathing was so ragged.

"I'm loving your ass, Mom. I thought you'd like it."

Gently squeezing her throat, I tugged her head down closer the counter. Once there, I started moving my fingers slowly in and out of her again. When I was moving easily in her, several minutes later, I made a little extra push at the top of each thrust and twisted my hand a few degrees before withdrawing. Mom was moaning constantly now.

Suddenly, I pulled my hand away. Mom's ass, almost pathetically, strained back several times searching for her now welcome invader. Her thighs quivering from her need.

"Lorny ...," it was almost a wail.

"Let's go upstairs and get that baby oil, Mom."

She pushed herself upright and turned to walk out of the kitchen but she could barely stand, her legs were so shaky. I slipped my hands around her waist and lifted her. My cock was firmly lodged between her cheeks as I walked her upstairs. Waddling our way up, her cheeks rubbing up and down my shaft, proved too much for me. By the time I got her to the bed, I was desperate to get inside her.

"Where is it?" I cried frantically.

"What?"

"The oil?" I yelled.

"On the dresser," she yelled back, fling her arm toward the wall to my right, her voice muffled because her head was face down in the comforter.

I ran over to the dresser, knocking over several bottles of feminine products in my haste before latching onto an almost empty bottle of baby oil. Feverishly I ran back to stand behind my mother, still in place, knees braced against the end of the bed. Quickly, I squirted the rest of the baby oil into the top of her crack, pushing my cockhead between her cheeks to block its flow. I could feel the point of my cock insert itself into her softened hole as the oil flowed on its head. Right away, my cock burst through her ring embedding the head completely inside her bum.

"UGGGGNNNGGHHH, OHHHHHHH, LORNY, LORNY," Mom yelled. I'm sure the neighbors would have heard had her face not been buried in the bed.

The bottle dropped to the floor as I grasped her hips. Unable to wait, incapable of stopping, I pushed my shaft all the way in. She grunted, one long, huge grunt.

"Mom? Are you OK?" I asked when I was plunged fully inside her. "Mom? MOM?"

"Yesssss," she cried, twisting her head sideways, her red face now showing under her hair. "Move it ... MOVE!"

A little stunned, I pulled my cock out a little, then pushed back in. Despite her moans and grunts, not as loud now, I could tell she was OK and liked it, really liked it, I thought as I began to move faster and faster.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god," she kept repeating between moans and grunts. I couldn't help myself, the sound and feel of her sent me out of control. I banged her butt harder and harder. She just seemed to love it even more. I thought she could easily take all I could give and in that instant I gave it, all of it. I poured my seed into her ass.

She slumped forward as my cock softened and popped out of her ass. She crawled up onto the bed and spread her legs wide with ass raised up about a foot from the bed, her face turning back to me, hidden by the mass of her hair.

"Can you do it again?" she asked, not a begging voice, more like a demand. Her ass was moving, twisting up and down, her little pucker winking at me, waiting for it.

I didn't know if I could. Looking down at my wasted cock, I knew I couldn't. Not right away, anyway.

"We don't have anymore baby oil," I threw out in my defense.

"We don't need it," she cried, "just get in me."

"No Mom, I don't want to hurt you."

Exasperated but resigned, she said, "There's more in the bathroom downstairs, then."

Her voice followed me as I walked through her bedroom door, relieved at my reprieve, "Hurry, Lorny, hurry."

'Get up,' I silently screamed at my flaccid member, 'get up,' shaking it all the way down the stairs, trying vainly to trigger some life in it. I swung around at the bottom to the downstairs bathroom. Finding the baby oil right away, I slowly headed back upstairs, still trying to convince my cock to rise from the dead. As turned to go upstairs I got the shock of my life.

"Dad!" I exclaimed. "What ...,"

"We need to talk" Dad replied calmly as he turned to walk upstairs.

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

The letter didn't end there so I didn't have to search for another, but I noticed action on the monitors. I hadn't seen anything all through the breakfast I had slept through and, though I was captivated by Lorne's story, I had been keeping an eye of the multiple view panel showing miniatures of each camera monitored by the system. Mary and my mother had been having a mid-morning coffee while Mary prepared my Dad's lunch and the latter had just left when Paul came in. This must have happened just a half hour or so before I came downstairs myself.

"Hi, Mrs. H," Paul cheerily greeted Mom as he breezed into the kitchen. "Have you seen my Mom?"

"She just went upstairs. You seem very happy this morning. Did you have an interesting evening?" Mom had a mischievous look on her face as she leaned back against the sink, exactly where she'd been the last time she had encouraged Paul to hold her breasts.

"Umm, it was Ok," Paul replied.

"Did you get to do anything new?"

"Sort of."

"Come here, Paul." Mom beckoned. "Come here and spill the beans to Mrs H."

Paul shuffled toward Mom coming to a stop standing in front of her, his head hanging sheepishly. Mom took his hands an placed them on her waist.

"Now, what happened? Don't be shy. We're confidants, you and I."

"I got to see her breasts," Paul mumbled. I had to rewind and play that part again louder to hear what he had to say.

"Weeellll," Mom drawled, "So she showed them to you so quickly did she?"

"Not really," looked guilty. "I pulled her robe apart when she was sleeping." I had to crank the volume again.

"Oh, you naughty boy," Mom laughed, putting her arms up to his shoulders and patting his back. She pulled his head down to rest on her shoulders. Paul's hands slipped around Mom's waist and he leaned into her as she patted his back. "You must have really wanted to see them to take that chance," Mom said. "Did she catch you?"

Paul shook his head. "She dozed off on the couch and I just undid her robe."

"Oh," Mom nodded, "she kind of fell asleep then?" I could tell from her voice she didn't believe it.

Paul nodded.

"Were they nice??

Paul nodded.

"As nice as mine?"

Paul didn't react at first, then pulled back and said, "I haven't seen yours."

"Didn't I show them to you?" Mom asked. Paul shook his head again. "Would you like to see them?"

Paul turned to look toward the stairs. Mom pulled his face back toward her. "She'll be busy for awhile. Don't worry. We'll be able to hear her." She started undoing her blouse but stopped. "That's silly," she said girlishly, "you know how to do this don't you?"

Paul nodded and took over. A moment later, he pulled Mom's blouse apart and stared at her breasts spilling out above her bra.

"She wasn't wearing anything," he said reproachfully.

"Wasn't she, now?" Mom's laugh rang through the kitchen. "Then you have more work to do, don't you?"

I could see Paul working away at Mom's bra. It took him a while but he finally managed to undo it and freed Mom's breasts. He held the bra out, marveling at Mom's tits hanging precariously from her chest.

"Do you like them?"

"They're bigger." Paul's voice was matter of fact.

"Did she let you touch hers?" Mom asked, her eyes shining with naughty delight.

"She was asleep," Paul again responded factually.

"And you didn't want to chance waking her, did you, I in case you got caught?"

"No."

"I'm not awake." Now Mom spoke plainly.

Paul balked.

"It's ok, Paul. I'm a mom too. Other girls might be afraid, or upset, but not moms. Go ahead, touch them." Mom's back bent backward, thrusting her tits up to him.

Paul's hands hovered over her breasts, then slowly floated down to rest on the swells of her tits. His palms settled on her nipples, slipping around to the sides and then slightly under to take the full weight of her breasts in his hands. Immediately, his thumbs stretched up to tweak her nipples from side to side, pausing to bend them down and then up before resuming his side play.

"That's nice, Paul. You've had practice before then?"

"No Mrs. H. This is my first time," Paul insisted.

"Call me Mom when we're alone like this. So you're a natural, then."

"A what? ... But you're not my Mom."

"Do you want to kiss them?"

"Can I?"

"Maybe. If you ask right?"

"Can I please kiss them, Mrs H?"

Mom didn't respond and when Paul tried to dip his face to her breasts, she held him away.

"Can I kiss them, Mom?" His face was already leaning forward. She didn't stop him.

"Ahhh, yes, that's right, like that," Mom's head was thrown back, her eyes closed. A few moments later, Paul's face was still busy on her chest when she spoke again, "Su.. ahhh, yesss, that's it, you already know ... yes, suck them, hard ... harder."

They weren't being very cautious. I could hear Paul sucking Mom's tits as he leaned over her, farther and farther as she leaned back more and more over the sink, angling her tits up into his mouth. She didn't seem to be controlling this situation very well. Her hands were running through his hair, rubbing his head, rolling it against her breasts.

Suddenly her feet opened and lifted up onto her tippy toes as she leaned to far back, losing her balance. Paul moved in, pressing himself into her. I could see his ass hunch as he shoved into her groin, rubbing up and down as he continued to suck.

Abruptly, Mom forced him upright as she straightened up, both of them panting hard.

"My god," Mom exclaimed, "whew!" Her face was very flushed and her nipples glistened with Paul's saliva as she looked down at the front of his pants. "I see you know how to work that thing of yours too."

Paul was also ooking at Mom's crotch. As she caught her breath, Mom noticed where he was looking.

"Did you see that too? Did she show you?"

"Her robe fell right open," Paul replied, simply.

"Uh huh," Mom said. "Was she naked there too?"

"No. She was wearing panties."

"But you wanted to see underneath, didn't you?"

"No. I didn't think of it?"

"Uh huh. Do you want to see what mine looks like?

"Yes, Mrs. H"

"What did I tell you?"

"Can I see it, Mom" What was this game Mom was playing? Was she trying to get him used to asking 'Mom'?

"Sit down," Mom commanded. She followed him as he backed up to a kitchen chair and sat down. Mom pulled her skirt up high, exposing her panties. "You can't just look at a woman's thing, you know. You have to kiss it. Do you still want to see it?"

Paul nodded.

"Then ask."

"Can I see it ... Mom?"

"See what?"

"You know."

"No I don't. What do you want to see?" Mom teased.

"That. Your ... Can I see your pussy ... Mom?" Paul cringed, as if he was saying a bad word.

"What are you waiting for? Pull my panties down."

Paul reached under Mom's skirt. His hands moved down and he just stopped, staring. Mom let him look, for a good, full minute. Then she raised her hands to his head and pulled him toward her, stepping forward as she did. She threw her head back when his mouth contacted her, rolling his head about like she'd done when he was sucking her tits.

"That's it ... that's good ... oh ohhh ohh ahhhh ughhh ohhh yeah, Paul ... wait, stop ... we can't, ohhh that's so good, ... stop ... don't."

Mom stepped back. It looked like she was trying to push his head away now. Paul fell to his knees on the floor, his arms circled around her ass, holding her to him. Mom stumbled back across the kitchen floor, Paul following, sucking her pussy despite her hands trying to pry him loose. They stumbled, and kneeled, all the way across to the kitchen until Mom was pinned against the cupboards.

I could see her trying to push harder, actually lifting herself from the floor. This was a mistake as Paul simply lifted her thighs and pushed her legs wide, off the floor. Mom was now at his mercy and his head really began moving under her skirt. She was moaning now, her head thrown back, abandoning herself to him, her hands flung back on the counter trying to hold herself up as his mouth savaged her chewed at her cunt. Finally, she went rigid, then slumped onto his shoulders. Paul pulled away and stood up, taking her limp form into his arms. He kissed her, looking very much like a grown man in full control.

He took Mom's hand and pressed it to the very large bulge in his pants. Mom broke the kiss, shaking her head. "No, Paul .. your mom is upstairs, she could come down any minute now." Mom looked frantically at the clock to emphasize her point. "And David might be around somewhere. This was crazy. Crazy!"

Paul continued to look her straight in the eyes. It was like looking at an ambiguous figure. One moment you saw this gawky kid looking five years younger than his age, and the next you saw this confident man with an enormous weapon in his pants, still holding my Mom's hand along its length. That's right. Mom hadn't pulled her hand off his dick despite her protests. Paul thrust forward, rubbing Mom's hand on himself as he did. Mom looked lost.

"Later," she cried, desperately. "I can't now. I'll help you later, I promise." Suddenly, their heads jerked toward the doorway. Mary must be coming. Mom looked back at Paul and smiled. He dropped his hand but Mom didn't pull hers away. She reached up and kissed him on his lips, her hand still gripping his penis. "I promise," she said, squeezing him, then turned and went out the back door, blouse and bra still undone.

I didn't listen to Mary and Paul's conversation which had also been recorded. I wondered, is this how Dad felt when he had worried about Mom flaunting herself in front of me? I felt sick, and jealous, yet driven by a desperate need to see more.

I turned back to Lorne's letter.

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

I followed Dad up the stairs, like a condemned man trudging to his own execution. Numbly, I trailed Dad to his bedroom where he stood frozen in the doorway, staring at Mom, her ass still wavering in the air, her little hole winking, and her head buried in the pillow. She must have heard us.

"Come on, Lorne, hurry," her muffled, urgent voice drifted back.

Dad was in shock. I stood there, not knowing what to do, naked, still holding the bottle of baby oil. I cast my eyes at Dad, afraid to look squarely at him. He was still frozen but there was a look of anger growing on his face. I looked down at my hand, at the bottle of baby oil, as if it was a smoking gun. But there was something else. I could see Dad beside me. There was a big tent in front of his pants! Dad had a huge hardon, looking at Mom waving her ass, unaware that he was there.

"Hurry," Mom wailed, "come fuck me."

Dad's hands moved. He was undoing his belt, pushing his pants down, kicking his shoes off and stepping out of his slacks. He pushed his shorts down and straightened up, his cock lunging forward like a pole protruding from the prow of a tall ship. Silently, I held up the baby oil. Dad grabbed it without acknowledging I was there. He walked straight to the bed and clambered up behind Mom on his knees.

"Yes," Mom cried,her ass cocking up in anticipation. "What took you so long?"

Dad held his cock while he squirted baby oil along its length and then plunged into Mom's ass. He pushed straight in.

"OHHHHH owwww ohhhhhh," Mom exclaimed. "Easy, easy."

"I'll fuck you, you bitch," Dad shouted, and started banging into Mom.

Mom's head jerked around at the sound of Dad's voice, her eyes wild. "John!" she yelled.

"Take this," Dad yelled, pounding roughly into Mom's ass, her neck bouncing dangerously, twisted sideways still as she looked back at him in horror. "Is this what you want, you slut?"

I leapt onto the bed, kneeling down beside my parents.

"Dad ... Dad," I yelled. "Take it easy, take it easy, ... don't hurt her! Please."

Dad slowed, easing up. He turned to look at me. His eyes losing some of their fanatic glaze.

Mom straightened her neck. I laid my hand on her back, running it gently down to her neck. "Take it easy on Mom, Dad," I repeated. His pace slowed again and he looked blankly at me. "We have all afternoon, Dad." I stroked Mom's neck, "She'll look after us all afternoon."

Still looking at be with a blank stare, he seem to nod, turned away and quickened his pace but not roughly anymore, sinking into a rhythm. Mom soon started her sounds.

"Do me John ... do me." Dad's pace picked up a then a little more as she urged him on with her grunts and moans. My own cock hardened as I listened to her. She reached out and grabbed my tool. Dad looked down expressionlessly as Mom held my cock while he thrust into her behind. As he came in her she started jacking me and when he fell onto the bed beside her, she pulled me around behind her. I was in her in a second. I lasted longer than Dad - after all, it wasn't my first that day - but not much longer.

We all lay on the bed after, Mom on her stomach, Dad on our backs on either side. We must have fallen asleep. At least I did, because I suddenly became aware that Mom was jacking me off as she lay on her tummy. I raised my head and saw that she was doing the same for Dad. She got up then and moved over on top of Dad, pausing to insert his cock into her, probably getting to be on top for the first time in their marriage.

She started slowly but soon was really working on him. He seemed content to keep his cock pushed in her and to fondle her tits once in a while. When she had worked herself up so much I thought she was about to come, she leaned way forward onto Dad's chest, like a jockey on a steed. Looking at me for the first time, she whispered, "Come on Lorny, get behind me."

I was so slow to react that Dad looked over at me and Mom seemed about to repeat herself. I scrambled up behind her and slipped my cock into her well lubricated asshole. You should have heard her moan. I wish I could reproduce that sound for you but I can only do it in my head. I could actually feel Dad in her, moving, as I was. That was a really wild fuck. I lost track of all the grunts and moans and expletives. We fucked off and on into the night. There was no discussion or recrimination.

After that, we just swung into a new relationship. I think Dad was thrilled with the new sex and Mom loved getting fucked by both of us at the same time. It was almost impossible for either of us to satisfy her alone. I don't know what I'd turned on in her, but it couldn't be shut off, that's for sure.

When we went to Florida to visit my Dad's parents, we took a room right on the beach as usual. We usually dropped our bags and rushed over to visit my grandparents as they almost always knew exactly when we had flown in, and complained if we didn't show up within an hour. But this time, while Dad and I were unpacking our bags, Mom walked out of the washroom in an incredible swimsuit. It had a tiny stretch of material over each nipple, matched by a similar patch covering her pussy, and nothing but strings everywhere else. She walked past us to the open glass doors and out onto the patio.

"I'm going to touch the water before we go," she announced as she passed by us. Dad and I watched her saunter sexily across the beach, turning every man's head. Several old duffers stopped to stare at her and actually started following her back to our room on her return until they saw Dad standing in the doorway with me behind him.

Dad closed the door when she came back in and I could see how big his hardon was as he turned to follow her. Mom crawled up onto the bed and took her familiar position, face down in the mattress, ass in the air.

"Fuck my parents," Dad said as he stumbled past me, trying to get his pants off.

You got that right, I thought as I yanked my own pants down.

I woke late that night to the most incredible feeling. Dad was snoring on my parent's queen bed but Mom was in mine on top of me. She was holding her weight up on her elbows, brushing her lips on mine and her nipples across my chest. Her fingers were stroking my forehead and the side of my face and my cock was buried deep inside her, privy to the most delightfully soft, wet, pulsating muscle you can imagine. As she pulled up, she squeezed my shaft all the way, twisting her hips to maximize the exquisite feel as I slipped through her wet tunnel.

"Are you awake dear?" she whispered.

"Yes," I answered, whispering too. "God, Mom. That's fantastic."

"I wanted to give you a special memory."

"I won't ever forget this feeling."

"There more," she whispered, even more quietly. She cocked her hip to the side a bit and pushed down on me as far as she could go. "That's where you started, Lorne. Right up there." She gave her hip a little extra shove to emphasize where she meant.

"Mom," I said, "I know I was adopted. I couldn't have started there. I love you. You're the only Mom I've ever known, or want, but I know you're not my birth Mom."

"You're right," she said, resuming her slow milking fuck, "you were adopted. You know what your grandparents are like, how religious they are. Well, they were mad because your Dad was their only child and he said he wasn't going to get married and have kids because there were too many in the world already. We thought like that back in those days. He was going to live in a commune. But then he did it."

"What ... did what?" I could barely get out two words as a time, she was making me feel so good.

"Your Dad met me and got me pregnant, but he didn't want to admit that he'd done that when we weren't married so we got married and he tole them we had adopted you because a friend was going to have you aborted otherwise. It made him kind of a hero to them."

"So Dad got you pregnant ... with me?"

"That's right. This is where you came from." Mom pushed right down on me again. I could feel that I was very deep in her. She squeezed her pussy on me and twisted her hips again. "I am your real Mom, baby."

I was in shock. I had been convinced that I was adopted. Mom pulled slowly off me, right out, and hovered above the tip of my cock.

"Is it still ok, baby? Do you still want me?"

"Ohhh, Mom. Yes, yes." I put my arms around her, hugging her, flooding with emotion as her sheath slipped once more over my cock, where it belonged, resuming its excruciating squeeze down my shaft. I'm the luckiest son in the world, I thought. When I was deep in her again, at my origin, I felt the tears flow onto the side of my face. Seconds later, she began her slow, teasing withdrawal.

"Fuck me, Mommy," I cried.

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

I was floored. What a lucky son he really was, I thought, as I tossed the letter onto the desk. I swung my feet back to the floor and glanced at the screen to check the cameras before heading out to see how dinner was coming. I just caught Mary taking a tray from Paul with Dad's dinner on it. Mary usually fed Dad a half hour before we ate, so I knew dinner would be ready soon but I still had time to read another letter, except that I didn't really want to. I felt I owed it to Lorne's story to give it a little time in my mind. Then I saw Mom enter the kitchen as soon as Mary was gone.

Paul was still standing by the counter where he'd passed the tray to his mother not a moment before. Mom walked straight up to him and plastered her palm right onto his crotch, rubbing up and down several times before undoing his belt. I scrambled to turn up the sound.

"... keep my promises." Mom pulled Paul's belt apart, unzipped his pants, and pushed them open. She fell to her knees, tugging his undershorts down in the front to his thighs, freeing his cock and balls.

"Oh, my. Paul!" Mom gazed at this semi hard tool. He had big balls and an ordinary sized cock but the head was disproportionately large. The shaft was a little thicker to support the huge head but it wasn't any longer than normal.

"I know. It's ugly."

"No no. It's different, but it's not ugly." Mom petted his cock and it straightened under her encouragement. As it lengthened, the true size and heft of his cock head became apparent. It was perfectly formed, a prototype. "Has Mary seen this?" Mom asked.

"No. Not since I was little but it didn't look like this until I was older."

"Oh, you have to find a way to show it to her." Mom stroked his shaft, swirling the fingers of her other hand lovingly around the big head. "She'll love it, believe me."

"Really?" Paul asked, "For real?"

"Yes, baby." Mom brought his cock to her mouth, her tongue flicking out to tease it, tickling underneath and then circling the whole head.

Mom cautioned him, "Don't try to put it right in my mouth, Paul. It won't fit." She swirled her tongue around him and then opened her mouth, slipping it over the tip as far as the could. She couldn't get the whole head in, but she came close. She moved her head back and forth a bit, the hollow in her cheeks showing that she was sucking him, and I could see her tongue working underneath. She pulled off with a wet popping sound.

"You need a woman with a big mouth, sweetie, to take this thing." I was shocked again as Mom spit on his cock before plunging her mouth over its head again. She worked on him longer this time before pulling off.

"You need a woman with a huge smile, like Julia Roberts, or Cameron Diaz," Mom said before gobbing on his cock and covering the head again. Paul tried to push into her mouth, but there was no way. Mom let him grab her head and hold it on his cock, but only for a minute before pulling away.

"You can't, Paul. You're too big." Mom was jacking him while she talked. "I'd love to but you're just too big." She reached up and fondled his balls with her free hand. "Ooohh, you've got a lot saved up in these, don't you?"

Paul nodded as Mom tickled his nuts. I could see he loved the way she was jacking him, but he also wanted to get back in her mouth and was trying to push it back there.

"You want back in, don't you?" Mom teased. He nodded his head rapidly up and down.

"Ok, but you have to do something for me." Paul nodded again.

"I want you to show this to Mary."

Paul looked uncertain.

"Do you want me to suck it some more?" Paul nodded, but still looked confused.

"But I don't know how ..."

"Find a way, if you want me to suck you again, find a way."

"I'll try."

"No Paul. You have to do it. I'll let you come this time but never again if you don't do what I ask."

"Ok. I'll do it."

"Promise me. We keep our promises, remember."

"I promise, I promise." Paul looked desperate. Mom had let him get his cock half an inch from her mouth, blowing on him, but despite his lunges while they talked, he hadn't been able to get it in.

"Ok Paul. Think about your Mom. Picture her face and her beautiful, big smile."

Mom spit and pulled his cockhead quickly into her mouth, jacking his cock. Paul was breathing loudly, gasping, almost moaning, his hips jerking as he tried to fuck into Mom's mouth. Mom fell back onto her elbow, pulling her head back and off Paul's cock.

"Oh, baby, you're almost there already, aren't you? Exciting, isn't it? Thinking about getting your cock into her mouth?"

Paul had followed Mom down to the floor and was trying to push his cock back into her mouth.

"That's right, Paul. She's your mom. Her mouth was made for you. You need it."

Mom spat on his cock, but this time she didn't immediately take him in. She spoke as her spit drooled off his cock, already covered in bubbly saliva.

"I'm going to let you come this time, but only if you call me mommy. Say it."

"Mommy," Paul said.

Mom spat on his cock again.

"Mommy."

She spat on it again and pulled it to her mouth, falling flat on the floor.

"Mommy," Paul cried, pushing his cock rapidly at her mouth.

Mommy!" he cried again, straddling her chest and fucking at her head just managing to get the tip into her mouth.

Mommy ... mommy ... MOMMY!"

Paul's hips were jerking. I couldn't see Mom's face. He stopped, held still for a minute, then stood and walked toward the back door, pulling up his pants.

Mom lay there. The floor around her head was splattered with come and there were shots on the cupboard behind her. Still, her face was covered completely in the creamy, white stuff. He must have been like a hose when he let loose.

"God," I heard Mom say. She laughed, "God," and laughed again, but she still just lay there without making any effort to get up. Then her hand moved, down to her crotch. She grabbed at her skirt, bunching it up and pulling until she could reach underneath. Her hand cupped her panties, her finger slipping down along the length of her pussy. She began rubbing herself. Minutes later, she came. Only then did she get up, turning to lean over the sink. The faucet turned on and she began splashing water on her face.

She was drying her face with a dish towel when Mary came in, carrying the tray with a partly emptied plate and an empty glass.

"Did you hear Paul calling me?" she asked.

"Yes, Mary. I think he's waiting for you downstairs. He said he didn't want to eat upstairs tonight." Mom was still patting her face, hidden behind the towel. "He said he wanted to be alone with you."