The Sno' Ball Effect
THE SNO' BALL EFFECT
How things build up between me & mom, until . . .
by Oediplex 8==3~
“God! I'm so horny!” I just came right out and said for everyone to hear. In the airport! Of all places to blurt that out loud. I don't know what prompted me to be so blunt, in so public a place, but the damage was done, so to speak. I had just gotten in for Christmas vacation from college, a sophomore doing well enough. But I hadn't gotten laid since summer. After starting in a new school I had transferred to, my social life had been the pits. Thus, my hormones were running rampant. So Mr. 'Blabber-Mouth' was speaking from his gonads, rather than with his brains.
What startled me even more than my untimely outburst, was my mother's unexpected response. She who was Mrs. 'Not-in-Public-Please' said, abet sotto voce, “You ain't the only one . . .” I looked at her. Rather than chide me for my rude remark, she seemed sympathetic, and if I got the gist of her tone, admitting to being in the same condition! Beyond her, I could see dad making towards the baggage claim area, he hadn't heard, too far away.
My sister, on the other side of me, didn't react to what our maternal parent had quipped, so I didn't think she had caught the remark mom had made under her breath. She did say, “Would you like to make an announcement of that on the PA system, big brother?” So she had gotten what I had inadvertently confessed to.
I was unsure if even I was supposed to have even been privy to my mother's mention of her lack of sex life. But I was sure, that she had spoken the phrase. I wondered about that little statement, all the way home. Had mom meant for me to have gotten a message, or was she even aware that what she had spoken was picked up by her son's ears?
Anyway, that was the first 'sno' flake if you will. The beginning of something that would develop with increasing scope, grow to surprising dimensions, and culminate in an overwhelming, irresistible outcome.
My dad had to go to work the next day, so soon after we got home, he retired to bed. My sister who was only two years younger than me went to her room to IM her pals on the Internet, but mom stayed down in the den with me watching TV. There was some sort of show about housewives, a reality program that chronicled the desperate conditions they dealt with, like the series on Sunday evenings, but with less plot and no humor. One of the ladies bitched about how she was a golf widow and couldn't remember the last time her spouse had bedded her. Mom nodded her head and said, clearly this time, “Commuter husbands are even worse!”
We were splitting a large bottle of Rhine wine and the mood was very informal tonight. I was still unsure if I was actually meant to be paying attention to these remarks of mom's, or if I should just politely ignore them. That choice was decided for me when she turned to me, and looked at me for a few minutes during a long commercial and then said, “Well how's your love life at the new university?
“Between my new classes, and the dorm rules we have to follow; I'm not getting any . . uh, having any chance to be – lucky with the gals there.”
“I though you were in a co-ed dorm building.”
“It is, but every other floor are girls and there is no visiting of the opposite sex after ten o'clock. No possibility for any hanky-panky.”
“You mean no opportunities to fuck.” Mom took another sip of wine, then replenished both our glasses.
“It doesn't matter what the term you use is, there is no socialization after hours between sexes. If you get caught, there's an automatic two week suspension. Nobody wants to risk that.”
“Hell! Where there's a will there's a way! Your dad and I snuck off to find a good spot, but in winter, we would do it behind the upright piano in the sorority house, and several of the gals would act as lookouts for us.”
“Mom, you naughty girl, you!”
“Just horny, like every other college kid. Making the most of our every opportunity. Not like now days, Jeez! I tell yah, nothin' ruins sex like marriage!” She polished off the goblet and poured herself yet more vino. She was feeling no pain, that was for certain!
“So . . . you and dad are . . not intimate as often as you used to be?” This was interesting, mom had seldom been as open about private matters as she was now. Did that mean she finally considered me to be adult enough to discuss these matters, at least within a personal family conversation?
“Ever since the doctor put him on that new blood-pressure medication, things have been zilch in the bedroom. The 'ball-park' as we used to term it has been instead, the snore-zone. I have to sleep in the spare bed in your room some evenings, if I want to get any rest at night. You just might have a co-ed dorm at home, if I can't take you father sawing wood some night.”
“Sure, mom, anytime, of course. I wouldn't mind.” But then I thought, wait – what if I want to masturbate, that might put a damper on that activity. I mean, you can't jerk-off with your mother in the next bed.
“Don't worry, Honey, I won't intrude on your space, I can always sleep on the couch, I'll just get a pillow and extra blanket.”
Now I felt bad for her, I didn't want to have her be on the sofa, comfortable as it was, even so. “Mom, you're welcome to share my room if you need to. I don't snore.”
“But I bet you do other things.”
“You mean, other noises?”
“Noo, . . other – things, you know, guy stuff.”
“Eating, reading?” I wasn't being dense, but I was still a bit naive, when it came to my mother talking openly on sexual matters.
“Silly, beating your meat, masturbating. I bet you do it quite a lot. I remember all the yellow stains on the sheets I had to bleach out, when you were younger. At least now days, you take out the trash-basket, with the sizable pile of tissue you use.”
Okay, I got what she was implying that time.
She was still speaking, “Of course, if you did, it wouldn't bother me. As long as it was quiet, I would be asleep, or pretend to be, so I didn't interrupt your . . . train of thought.” She giggled.
Yikes! Was that a come on, or her just trying to be humorous? “I don't think that I . . . I mean, if I needed to . . I'd go to the bathroom or down here to the den.”
“Well, what if your sister had to use the toilet, or came down to the family room and discovered you jacking-off? Wouldn't that be a fine-how-do-you-do? Better you stick it with your old mother, whoops! I mean stick it to your old mom, damn!” she laughed, “Jeez! I meant to say, it's alright to do it when I'm around, if you have to. You said you were really horny. I wouldn't want to put out, put you out is what I am trying to say.”
Was she making Freudian slips, or was the wine making her woozy, or was there a more direct message being not so subtly communicated from a frustrated housewife to a randy twenty-year old? I could hardly believe the last, so I decided that it must have been the middle option. Best to play it safe for now, and not play with fire. If I guessed wrong, it would blow up in my face, and could spoil the whole vacation.
I didn't want to ruin the holidays, because I got hot-to-trot and made a play for mom, when she was not at all meaning that we should . . could . . I didn't let my imagination go there, right then. Even though, in truth, it had a few times in the past. Mom was definitely a MILF. She would give the TV babes a run for their money in a beauty contest. I copped-out as my folks would have put it – no! not wussed! - I simply bowed out of the conversation gracefully and said, “Well, I'm tired after the trip, so I'm going to hit the sack. If you want to use the spare bed, that's fine, mom.” I added without thinking, “I won't jerk-off without you, I mean, with you there, I'd behave.” Damn, she had me doing it now!
She laughed very loudly, and just waved at me as I left. I went up the two flights on our split level, to my room.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The 'Snow-Ball' is often a term for a holiday prom at some schools. I was out of school, between terms. However, this holiday dance which mom and I were engaged in, was just beginning. I had to be careful not to step on her toes. On the other hand, if we swayed too close together, she might feel my manhood poking at her. What the fella can't tell, under that gown, is how damp his partner's panties are. Wasn't there something they once called 'balling the jack', and wasn't that sexual innuendo the name of a dance? But who thinks about their mom as their date, or mate, and admits it, even to themselves. I found that I was doing just that, after the chat we had. Ringing in my ears were the words, “You ain't the only one . . .”.
Sometimes, fortune lends a hand to the inertia of the way things are going to go. In other words, it gives an impetus to how the ball is rolling and pushes it in the direction it was already headed. It might change the direction of events, but didn't with us. On occasion it sometimes makes things worse - or better, as the case may be. In this circumstance, fate provided the slope the sticky cluster of carnal crystals was beginning to tumble down. In my hasty retreat, from our erotically stimulating dialog, I had left my half-finished glass of spirits down in the den. Never one to waste wine, I went back after it, once I had brushed my teeth and used the toilet. I stopped on the steps, still in the shadows, as I heard an unusual sound.
In all honesty, I knew what it was; but I was surprised that it was coming from the family room. It was coming from my mother. It was my mom, cumming. Or at least it was her diddling herself. As she had said, 'a fine-how-do-you-do'. Except, I was not about to say 'how-do-you-do' to my mom when I knew what she was doing, which was - doing it to herself. While I was partially hidden by the solid railing, I had a clear view of my mother, and her private activity. I should have crept up the stairs, but I was mesmerized by the sight. Her knees were lifted and the hem had been hiked up to her waist. The top of her gown was pulled down and both beautiful tits were exposed to my gaze. One hand was on her right breast, tugging at the nipple.
Even hotter, and more intimately exhibited, was her hairy delta. The ruddy labia, the dark crevice of her slit, there her fingers were rubbing the whole nest of her sex. The middle digit was delving into her hollow, sometimes joined by a second. It was like a porno scene from a video. Only it was live, my mom, and ten times more sizzling than anything I had ever seen. Mother had her eyes half shut, she was moaning with excitement, and oblivious to my being a secret spectator to the revealing of mom's juicy genitalia, and her auto-erotic manipulations. I was harder than a billy-club and my balls were as blue as a cop's cap.
I watched as my parent showed me how a female went about self-abuse. She was seriously scratching the itch between her thighs, and pinching the rosettes of her boobs, alternating left and right. Things were speeding up and mom was clearly close to her climax. Her sounds had become higher pitched, rising to a whine, and her panting gasps were getting faster. Now her fingers blurred into her hole, and she stared to vocalize words. I heard, “NO! Oh, no! Noo . . . uh, uuhh, oh God yes, Yes, YES, Baby do it! Do it to me! Fuck me! It's been so long, I need it, AAHH! YEAH! BABY FUCK MMEEE!” I don't have to explain that she came. She had a huge cum.
I was awe struck, by her scrunched up sweet face, and the powerful aroma of woman-sex-odor, the way her body contracted, her legs closed and opened involuntarily, and how her hips thrust up as if to take in a man's big member as it plunged into her center. I wanted to be that male, that pounded into this gorgeous female's vagina. I was shaken by the urge I had to go down the few steps, and ravage her. Give her the fucking she wanted, needed, desired, deserved. But instead, I beat a hasty retreat once more.
As I withdrew up the stairs, I slipped on a step, my knee caught the edge, I let out the tiniest of oaths, “sshitt!” I kept it in my throat, only the faintest sibilant escaped. I didn't think she could have heard it, or the thunk of my knee on the carpet covering the stairs. In any case, I scurried back to my room and into my bed and held my breath, waiting to see if she followed me, confronted me for invading her privacy, and boldly looking on as she brought herself off.
But there was no barging in, no sound of her coming up the stairs. It was silent. I waited a few minutes, then had to take action on my own. I skinned down my jockey shorts and gripped my woodie and pumped it only a half dozen times before I shot a spout of sperm into the air, a foot high, I swear! And, I was unable to hold my tongue, as the words I knew were so dangerous, yet so true, escaped my lips. “OH! Yes mom! I love you, fuck me, fuck me mommy, I'm cumming!” At my door, I heard a rustling as someone moved away and they went up to the top floor. I heard a door open and close. Was it mom? It might have been my sister, whose room was on that level too. But I bet it was mother, The ball was rolling.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I expected that if there were to be negative consequences from my inadvertent spying of my mother's frantic frigging, that it would likely be after my father had gone to the office, as he always did car-pooling early to catch the 6:35 to New York City, and after my sister was out of the house to her VBF's Angela's home. But nothing was said. That was fine with me. I did not want to open that can of worms, especially since my willy was one of them, a big one at that, and long too! Rather, mom fixed me some bacon and eggs, and asked if I wanted to go shopping with her, maybe get some new jeans or sneakers. I declined, and said I wanted to see if some of the guys were around. We usually met up at the local donut shop, when we were in town, on break from school.
So the day went by on a normal basis. I did connect with some pals, and we hung out at the mall. Then we went and played video games at one of the guy's house. Eventually, my sister and I came home to dinner cooking, and when dad was in I picked him up at the train station at 7:45. We ate at half past eight. Typical commuter supper hour. Then, all four of us settled in for some prime time television programs. Mom and dad retired about eleven, and sis and I finished an old movie at twelve-thirty. End of day, all to bed and to sleep. Only I couldn't get to sleep.
I lay in bed, awake and thinking of the evening before, and what I had witnessed. As I like to sleep in the raw, I didn't have to strip off anything to begin to stroke myself. Just then there was a little knock and my mother came in, closing the door behind her. I just had time to pull the covers up and hide my hard-on. She was in her pink nylon nightie, and she slipped into the other 'spare' bed. 'Hi!” She whispered, “Your Father's sawing away, and I thought I'd take you up on your offer, since tomorrow I have to get up at eight to go shopping for the rest of the Christmas presents.”
Great! Just as I had thought might happen, 'masurbatus-interruptus'. Oh well, it couldn't be helped. I had made the offer, hadn't I? So I could survive a night of horniness. But then a thought occurred to me. Mom had cried out, 'Baby do it! Do it to me!, - fuck me Baby!' However, I was the only one in the family she called 'Baby' Dad was Darling, or Dearest. Sis was Sweety, or Sugar. We all were Honey, at various times. But only I was Baby, and also Kiddo as well. Had mom been thinking of me when she had fiddled her fandango last night? Had our rather forthright and titillating conversation been the tantalizing temptation to pull her trigger with me in mind, and did she imagined my plunging in her pussy with my prick?
Suddenly, but not at all surprisingly, I was rigid with desire for her. A vice was clamped to my head above my ears, and my heart was having palpitations in my chest. Mom seemed to have gone to sleep right away. How sound a sleeper was she? Could I just quietly just wiggle my snake until it spit goo, or should I not risk it, and move to the bathroom? I looked at mom, her breathing seemed regular, her eyes closed and her demeanor of a dreamer in repose. But the bedding was down to her waist, and I could clearly see the outline of those wonderful wonder-braless breasts, which had been bared to my delight, last night. I saw them again in my mind's eye and my hand began to handle my hard-on. It was too hard not to.
I swear to God, there was no way she could have heard me wanking my woodie. But mom opened her eyes, looked right at me, I saw her smile, and then she said, “Did you like the show last night, Baby?”
I froze. I was even more turned on by her remark, but petrified that now the tables were turned. I was stuck by living rigor mortis, I was on the cusp of the need to continue shining my bat, as opposed to abjectly apologizing for my previous sins of sight and turgid transgressions of tonight. What came from my tongue, which had a mind of its own since landing at La Guardia, was, “You knew I was there? Jeez! Mom that was so hot! I can't help thinking about it. That's why I'm stroking, even with you in the room. Because you turn me on so much!”
“Can I see?”
Like a hypnotized man, I drew my blanket and sheet off, and allowed my mother to view my hunk of manhood at full attention.
“Your beautiful, Baby! Do it for me, show me how you would do it to me. That's what you're thinking isn't it, about balling your mother? Go on, call my name and tell me that you love me, like you did last night, when you went back to your room and had to cum!”
“That was you, outside my door! I thought I heard you. How come you let me watch? Why?” I started to move my fingers on my member as she had requested, I was more than happy to oblige.
“I knew you'd come back for the wine. I wanted to give you something, to help your horny condition be relieved. And, I had to relieve myself too. I haven't had it for so long, and the thought of you thinking of me got me so hot, that I was overcome with desire for my own son. We couldn't ever do anything about it, we must never cross that line, but we can look and not touch, we can fantasize and have fun can't we?”
“And this is for your horny condition, mom? Why don't you take off your nightgown and do it with me? We can watch each other as we touch ourselves and bring ourselves off!” I sat up and swung my legs down, to sit before her with my penis pointer right at my mother. I couldn't believe this was happening. It was like a fantasy, a dirty story I would read, but it was real. My mother was lifting up her shift and showing that she had no undies on, she was now as naked as I. She sat on the edge of the bed, on arm in back supporting her. She spread her legs and fingered her cunt as I cranked on my cock. We fell into a rhythm, our movements in simpatico, our eyes looked into one another's, and then to each other's genitals. Her tips were points of pink topped with red berries. My dick head was a purple plum.
I felt my head burst, like a melon smashed to the pavement. My shaft began to shoot an arch of cream toward mom. Her hips humped in my direction and we echoed our cries in a ragged duet of mews and groans, “Yes mom! - Yeah Baby! – I'm fucking you mommy! – I'm cumming with you, Baby! - Yes! -Yes! Now! - I am! I'm cumming!” I don't know where my squirt landed, but I could see a big wet spot where mom sat. I held out my arms for her to be hugged, she closed the gap, and I stood and we clenched our nudity together, like we were Adam and Eve, before the Fall - and the conception of sin. But of course, sin was very much in the middle of our clinching.
I took her into my bed and covered us up. Mother said to set the alarm for five, so as to be back in her own bed with dad, before he woke. If he discovered her missing before that, she would cover by saying she was in the kitchen getting warm milk, to try to get back to sleep. We snuggled like two children, though our adult bodies were very much aware of our being unclothed. But I was aware mom had set limits to our physical contact, and I intended to respect those boundaries. But destiny had its own momentum going now, and the 'no-balling' rule wasn't going to stop the snowballing down the hill of our long yearning for fulfillment sexually, and shared incestuous inclinations.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
That next day was much like the one before, except that mom brought home lots of packages and stuffed them in her closet with strict instructions for everyone not to peak. The holiday was a week away. We, both of us, knew we were skating on thin ice, our mutual masturbation session had banked the fires of frustration only for the time being. The weather was iffy too. It was to be seen if we were going to have a white Christmas, it had snowed in early December, but that had all melted, for the most part. Mom took a sleeping pill the next evening, something she didn't like to do, but resorted to when necessary. It was my fifth night home, I was unsure if mother had gone to sleep the help of another little tablet. There came another tapping at my door. I was surprised that it was my sister that entered at my okay!
“Hi! Sis, what's up?”
“I want to talk to you about mom and dad.”
“Is everything alright?” What did she know – suspect? Why approach me now? I was worried the cat was out of the bag somehow, about mom's pussy being in my sack, so to speak.
“Since you've been gone this fall, I haven't heard them fucking once. They used to do it at least once a week, usually on Friday nights. But, nothing for the last several months. Mom's been moody and dad has been less attentive to her, like he doesn't get that she ought to have her needs taken care of. I don't want them to get a divorce. Do you think maybe dad is having an affair?”
“No, I doubt it, he was never the skirt-chaser type. I think that it's his blood pressure pills, the new ones that he got. They reduce the libido, evidently. How do you know about their sex lives?”
“Oh . . . I used to listen on the intercom. Quite an educational experience. Mom really likes when he goes . . used to go down on her. You don't think she would stray, do you? Like Gabriel, on that show mom likes to watch, Sundays? Me, I want to see the action shows, or the movie if it's one I like. Mom wouldn't cheat on dad? I'm worried that their marriage is failing.”
“I think that if mom is having – difficulties. I'm sure they will find a way to work things out. She will hit menopause soon and then her physical desires will not have such an edge on them. Meanwhile, you might cue our father in, about his making mom happy in bed, even if he can't raise the old horn high, he still can provide cunnilingus.”
“Why don't you talk to him? I don't think a daughter ought to instruct her father on his marital duties!”
“Because you are his daughter and he will listen to you better than me. You can present the female perspective and perhaps reassure him he is still viral and attractive, and able to be a satisfactory mate to mom. He always liked you to butter him up, you used to wrap him around your little finger. I bet you still can.” It made sense, besides, I wouldn't want to have him think I had any designs on mom, myself, which of course I did. And if I started sharing that she was frustrated, he might wonder what she and I had been sharing. I didn't want to get near that with him. I might blab something inadvertently. Me and my big mouth – need I say more?
My sister thought about what I said. Nodded her agreement as to what I had purposed, and then she blew my mind with her next words. 'What if you helped mom out? Wait, let me finish. I know it sounds outrageous to begin with, but think for a moment, about what I'm going to say. You've always had a little thing for mom, don't deny it, I'm your sister, I could always read your mind since I was six.”
She continued, “You're family. It's not like she would be having an affair outside the home, and I think she might even be open to trying something with you, nowadays. When we talk about you, she goes on about how handsome a hunk you've become, and that you reminder her of dad in his younger days. She asks about if I know what is happening with your love life, if you have any girlfriends at college you mention, when we talk on the phone. Of course, I don't know if you are getting any, and you've haven't brought up anybody lately. You're only here for the holiday, maybe you might give her a little . . bop, you know, boff her a couple of times. I think she'd be a lot of fun!”
Jeez! Out of the mouths of baby sisters! Most certainly, I could not let on that things were warming up in that very way she was suggesting. That would be dangerous, extremely. “Don't you mention that to either mom and especially not dad! If they got any inkling that I had ideas of that sort, I'd be dead meat for sure, if dad didn't kill me, then mom would beat my ass with a frying pan.”
“Maybe not big brother, if I was a lonely housewife, I might take you to bed myself. But I'm already banging somebody, so I'm not horny – like you and mom are. Think about it. I promise I won't say anything. I'll talk to dad after you go back to school, just in case your hormones have a second thought about mom. Sweet dreams, and don't stain the sheets, okay?” She laughed as she left, the vixen. But I had the last laugh, as I was ahead of her on taking care of mom. Still, if going down was a favorite fun activity for mom, I should not be surprised. I would put the hint to good use, as soon as I could. If I was granted the privilege. Knowing a little more now, about what was in mom's head, I was pretty sure she would let me give her head. Cunnilingus here we cum!
However, that visit of my sibling setback our next rendezvous for another day, as mom did not want to be seen by her daughter entering her son's room at night. But the next day was Saturday and that was an ideal situation set right into our laps. An ironic turn of phrase, if you may allow. Dad was off to one of his co-workers house, an hour away, to watch a big game on their jumbo screen and soak up suds and munch pizza until late. Sister made plans to go out to the movies, and bowling after, with her crowd. Mom and I had the house to ourselves. I had a definite goal, but no plan of action as to how to take things to the next level. I needed a strategy to get us naked and in bed.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
It turns out that what I had avoided doing many years when living at home, was the key. Help mother do the chores! That gave us time together. Made me seem domestic; as well as, believe it or not guys, romantic! – Who knew? Then as she got tired, I volunteered to give her a back rub. A trite, but truly practical ploy. I didn't try to get her naked, just having her back available to my hands was enough to get the ball rolling. She said, 'sno-balling', but a little slide down the slope would be fine I thought. Sis had said so, and I believed her. She was on the money about mommy and her love of tongue tickling on her ta-tas and in her tangle! That prediction proved to be provocative, and the circumstances were providential, so I promoted a promise to mom to provide her with a lovely relaxing massage when we were done with the housework.
Now a painter may sometimes wish to work with a broad canvas to create his work of art. A nice expanse of mattress is the equivalent for a lover. The regal region of my parent's queen size bed was the perfect pad for my particular creative carnal connivings. I had no trouble swooping off the tee-shirt mom had on, nor was unfastening her bra any obstacle, once she was on her tummy, and primed to have her rub-down I had pledged. I took it slow, and did a professional job on making her muscles loosen, and permitting her body in general to release the tensions of the day. I hardly flirted with the pouts of flesh along her ribs the mammeries made. The idea was to ease her mind by allowing her body to unwind. With that accomplished, I then kissed her cheek and worked my way to her lips.
Naturally, she turned her head to smooch me back, and this led to her rolling on to her side to let us do some sweet necking. I divested myself of my own shirt, and she in tandem pulled off her unhooked brassiere. We held one another, bare breast to naked chest. The warmth and softness of her cushions was both mothering, and arousing in a very unfilial manner to my incestuous urges. I let my hands roam over her strong shoulders and spine. They caressed her skin and then glided down over her short skirt that covered her bottom. I made gentle squeezes on her firm haunches, and then let my stroking skim down to the back of her legs and up again. Eventually, my fingers went under the fabric to her panties and became more familiar with the curves of her hinny. This was preliminary for a frontal fondling of her ample pulchritude, and the rosy aureoles that capped the twin pillows.
Now we were in make-out mode. Our mouths fencing with Frenching, my hand making merry with mom's mams and her palm was working on the boner in my jeans. Time to make my move to lip-smacking ministrations to her sensitive sensual places. I began to kiss down her neck, headed for those heavenly hooters of hers. She knew the drill. Mom lifted her chest and threw back her head with a little approving chuckle, and a 'Mmm' in anticipation of delight. I did not disappoint. I paid homage to the source of nourishment that I had suckled on in my infancy. However, now Baby sucked with equal ardor, but with a much more adult purpose than when I was a papoose! While this was happening, I milked the liberties she was permitting to drift into fresh territory. My hand now mirrored her crotch clutching and went to the juncture of her legs.
Her pudenda was still clad in her silky scanties, but they were damp. Her thighs opened easily and my fingers found the groove that was the way to her womanhood. After several minutes of running my tips along the crack, I slipped my hand into her undies waistband. I pushed down on the gusset and the garment gave way to provide plenty of space to play. I sought the slippery oil at her secret recess and traced upwards to coat the length of the feminine divide. Dipping once more in the well of love's liquid I drew it to her little nubbin of tissue, where I intended my tongue to be in a short time. This I toggled and teased, re-coated and canoodled with, petting my mother's most intimate flesh in the finest fashion I knew how.
Then I made the next move to nibble lower and lower. I had reached her navel when mom made to rid herself of the skirt, and I stripped the panties in a nonce. Now I had her naked again, on a flat soft platform for my oral maneuvers. She was panting, and letting out little whimpers of eagerness as it was no secret what my lips were seeking. She rolled onto her back, with her legs wide, and her pelvis tilted to press the tangy target to her son's mouth. Mother's cry at my contact with her clit was almost one of pain, so great was the heightened expectation of that instant. My most creative moves were now put to good use as I swirled and lapped and blew and vibrated that pink pearl of lust. I paradiddled and twiddled with my flexing muscle that snaked out of my orifice. I licked the labia and thighs, and the crease of the limbs where they united with her torso.
My saliva mixed with her womanly juices to soak her nether region, swamping her sex with the love my mouth made to my mother. All this had the desired effect. She bucked and bawled and screamed, finally collapsing when she came. It was truly an amazing thing to do, to give your own mom a maximum blast of cumming with cunnilingus. I was proud and pleased that I could provide her such, give to this lady I had loved, my whole life, and who loved me with all her heart, and now with her body as well. I didn't know if we would finally have sex, but if this was as good as it got, then she deserved that for everything she had done for me. I was happy she had let me go down on her. I figured that perhaps we might go 'head to head' next in a 69 position, but just then, we heard my sister's car pull into the driveway. I pulled up my jeans and grabbed my shirt and scrambled downstairs to my room, in the nick of time, before sis entered the house. But what an afternoon!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Isn't incest the oddest thing? I mean, when you think about it. Family members are the most intimate of our social groups, generally. They know the most about us than anyone else, often perhaps more than we know of ourselves in some aspects. If they are that close and loving, we do so many things for them physically. Wash them, feed them, care for them when sick. We stroke them when they are tired, or sore; foot rubs, leg rubs, back rubs, scalp massages. Of course certain touching is inappropriate. We ought not to take advantage of the young and innocent. Never force unwanted contact upon any of those we are responsible for, or on those who we are accountable to; as it creates the most dire of stresses in our most cherished relationships. It can ruin lives.
But yet, there are so many instances where, adult relatives have relations, cousins, brothers and sisters, aunts and nephews, uncles – nieces, even parents and off-spring. Grown-ups mind you, is whom I'm talking about, mature individuals of blood ties, that connect sexually, for some reason. It happens, more often than most folks realize, or would admit to knowing about in their own family. Shocking? Maybe, but in all honesty, considering human nature's capacity to rationalize, (not be rational, that is something else entirely), it shouldn't be all that surprising. Who better to seek to the solace of sex with than someone you trusted your whole life? Who more tempting of forbidden fruit? Who more attractive than your own genetic material? Who more willing to provide for a person's physical needs, than family? I know that arguments can be made for all other alternatives. But even so, while incest might be odd, it is often committed, and when done by consenting adults together, the world doesn't always end.
Thus my thoughts went, as I lay in bed that evening, thinking about what mom, and I were involved in, speculating on what my sister had said, and wondering if the night would have another episode of sexual escapades with my mother. In the dark, I found no illumination to my contemplations. But a light did shine for a moment under my door, then was dowsed again, and mom came in. She was in a terrycloth robe, her hair brushed out and in the dim light of the moon through the window, looking even younger that her years. She sat by my side on the bed, put a finger to her lips, signaling I should be silent. I heard the toilet flush and the soft padding of what must have been my sister's feet returning to her room.
The bowling alley had been packed, and the gang my sibling was with had decided to grab hamburgers, and come back to eat them here. They chatted and clattered for several hours before leaving. Mom had napped, her door locked as she was much mussed by our messing about. I had taken a shower after a little while, then surfed the web. Supper was left-overs, and dad came home in a jolly mood, and declared that he won the betting pool, so tomorrow we would be going out to dinner at a restaurant, to be chosen in the morning. When my sibling was safely ensconced back in her habitat, and likely dropping off to a sound sleep, we were once more free to converse.
Mom did not say much to begin with, but her hand rubbed along the rail of my erection, which she had discovered as she coasted the folds of my blanket. It was intentional and it was very nice indeed. She smiled, and I saw her lips part, her teeth reflected the lunar glow. “You certainly discovered mommy's weakness, didn't my naughty boy? I told you we could 'look but not touch', but I couldn't resist that kind of temptation. You are most talented when you give head, Honey. Baby, who taught you all those moves?”
“You inspire me, mom!” A line I learned somewhere, which would always compliment the gal who asked, without going into the history of liaisons with other ladies.
“Well, in any case she was a good teacher. Unless she was one of your teachers?”
“No, mom. The only faculty member I ever had the hots for was the girl's gymnastic coach at my old school, last year. Later on, a buddy of mine emailed me, and told me there was a rumor going around, that she and Mrs. Tompkins, a linguistics professor, were having an affair.”
“Well, I think you could have taught her a thing or two about 'ling-guistics'! You have a cunning lingual genius, as far as I'm concerned.” We both laughed at the old pun. It was even used in the latest James Bond movie, I remembered. “I'm not going to stay long tonight, but I'm here to reciprocate your pleasuring me this afternoon so fantastically. Do you fancy some fellatio? Can your new playmate lick your lollipop?”
If that was on tonight's menu, I was more than willing to serve her my sausage. “Yes, please, that would be excellent!” I drew back the bedding, and uncovered the tuber she had been touching. My private stood at attention.
Mother bent down and sucked the head of my dick into her warm wet mouth. She bobbed several times. Then she rose for a moment, shed her robe, and I was able to tell there was not a stitch on underneath. The dressing gown dropped to the floor and mom knelt beside the bed. Her one hand cradled my balls and the other was a guide to keep my prick pointed at the slant that made it easier for her to swallow. Her lips aligned like they were labia, it felt much like I was slipping into a female's vagina. Except, once past the entrance, there was no encompassing soft tissue, but a variety of surfaces, slightly raspy with the tongue, smooth for the inside of her cheeks and hard but with slight ridges at the top of the mouth. Yet with the small gyrations of her head and shifting of angles it was a quite an exciting event. Mom had experience, that was evident in her expertise.
The whole of the session was making my brains crackle with lust-rush. My penis pulsed with electrical charges from my nuts to the tip, as if it were a battery giving off zapping sparks. With my mother completely nude and lewd, and doing incredible Oedipal things on my tool, it was not long before I exploded in her mouth. My cock went off like a Roman candle, pop – pop - pop the sperm spewed in the special place that it was being plied by. I tried to keep quiet, so as to maintain our surreptitious tryst from becoming known if my sister was still up, but I still was racked by raw hoarse gasps as I came in mom's maw.
She leaned up to whisper in my ear, I don't swallow, but you tasted good! If you see a ring tomorrow around your dingy, you don't have a 'tooth-rash', it's just lipstick!” She tittered in her palm to stifle the sound of her laughter, picked up her robe and put it on without tying the belt and started to leave. She turned back as she reached the door and said softly, “I love you, Baby. I haven't had this much fun in a long time, too long. Goodnight, Kiddo. I'll be dreaming of you, and maybe I'll back here again real soon, as well. We'll just have to see what the next couple of days bring!”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Sunday was a full day of family time, dinner at a posh eatery serving great meals and expensive wine. Afternoon we revisited some favorite boardgames we use to play, a nostalgia trip for each of us in a number of ways. Then we watched TV, including the one where housewives made the best of their troubles, but mom didn't seem so melancholy viewing their shenanigans now. She and dad retired early, but went upstairs hand and hand. Good for dad, I thought. I wondered if my sibling had gone ahead and spoken with him. But neither of us brought the subject up. My sister did inform me she was leaving with dad in the morning to take the train into the City, to see the holiday decorations, meeting him for lunch, and then they would take the 4:05 back. But, since her car would be parked at the station, I wouldn't have to pick them up. Supper could be earlier too. I wondered if I should plan on doing more chores. But as I heard them leave in the morning, I got an even better idea!
I looked out my window and made sure the car was out of the driveway and down the road. Then I made a quick trip to the bathroom to piss, and do a once over with a washcloth to clean up. Then naked as a jay-bird, I snuck into my parents bedroom, and in their bed, under the covers with mom. She had a shortie nightgown on. However, I could tell as I snuggled up to her fanny, no panties. I was wearing only my morning woodie, and it pressed into her bottom along the soft split. She didn't stir yet. I began to nudge my hard-on into her tush. It made slight sawing motions, and felt great, but I was after the other side of the erotic hips I was humping.
“Huh . . .Honey?” Mom was unsure who was bumping his manhood on her rear.
“It's me mom, they've gone for the day.”
“Don't fuck me, Baby!” I told you we can't do that. I know you want to, so do I, but we wouldn't want to hurt your father, would we? We can play today, but no intercourse, you understand? I mean it!”
She sounded scared that I would take advantage of her. Even though I hoped to push the envelope of our sexual adventures, I wasn't about to do anything she didn't want to do. On the other hand, if she seduced me, or changed her mind, or perhaps couldn't help herself, and I lost my 'will-power' to resist her charms . . . well things can happen unintentionally. At least I was there with her, we were naked, flesh to flesh, and our privacy was not going to be interrupted. I had the foresight to take the phone off the hook. My cell was in my room. If nobody called mom early, we had some time to get really cozy. The way things had been escalating, anything might happen! But I needed to reassure her of my 'honorable intentions' which I truly believed were well-meaning, at that point.
“It's okay mom. I just thought we could take the opportunity to cuddle without having to worry about falling out of my narrow bed.”
“Okay, but you mustn't try to get into my pants.”
“You're not wearing any.”
“'Then, that won't be an issue will it?”
“Will you promise the same?” I was willing to going with the crazy logic mom was spinning.
“Of course!” She said with the tone of utter innocence and the barest hint of a giggle. She was trying hard to suppress a smirk. She turned over to face me and my boner poked her bush. Her nipples were hard and crinkled. I bet she was wet too.
“If I can't have your scanties down, can I get that baby-doll top up?”
“Help yourself!” I did and the wisp of silk and lace lifted, and then drifted off the side, as I whisked it from her beautiful body. “You don't have anything for me to steal from you! No fair!”
“Mmnh . .how about I let you take . . (think quick!) . . my . .”
“Your . . ?”
“My, kisses, I have plenty to spare.” I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her tight.
“Then they must not be worth much.” Mom encircled me with her arms, as well. She raised a leg and hung it over my hip. My peter was now prodding her pussy. This game was getting dangerous if we were trying to keep to the rule of 'no-balling'. In fact, the rounds of touching had picked up the pace!
I replied, “OH! They are the most valuable kisses in the world!”
“How so?” She made little movements with her abdomen to graze the helmet along the slick channel of her vulva. Did she realize? Was she talking the talk, but not walking the walk of having sex? I was being driven mad with fuck-lust, with her intricate entangling of our limbs and loins.
I said as calmly as I could, under the conditions, “See for yourself how sweet and loving they are, and they are only meant for you, the woman I love and adore.”
“Let me taste them. I liked what I sipped the other evening. Your semen is sweet.”
I rolled on top of her. Her legs spread and I was between her thighs, my cock was centered in the cup of her cunt. It was swimming in the grease of her lubrication. Jeez! Was this it, were we about to have sex, after she had said no, and I had promised to be faithful to that? Were we about to cheat on my father and fuck? We continue to kiss, and we Frenched, and our genitalia continued to mingle and muddle. All it would take was a small thrust of my dick, or a tilt of her pelvis ,or even just a hint of both at the same time, and my bulb would be engulfed in the cavity of her womanhood. If that happened, I would not be able to stop the inevitable. Did she realize that??!
Mom hugged me even closer, my chest squashed her breasts. Her face was aside mine and her panting was soft in my ear. I could smell her perfume from yesterday that lingered on her shoulders. She put her hands on my hips and clutched them but did not pull. My legs were stiff making sure that I did not sink into her pussy, as much as I desperately wanted to. My toes dug into the mattress, my knees pressed her thighs which were widening. Any second I would give way, my arms trembled trying to steady myself. Then my mother, breathed, almost inaudibly, “Don't move a muscle! Especially, that big one you have knocking at my pussy's entrance. I need to tell you something very important!”
What a time to play a game of 'mother may I?'! She continued in the same controlled mild but wild whisper, “I can't refuse you. I can't help myself, I want you in me. It's okay, you can fuck mommy now, I need it too bad, soo much, I can't say no. I won't regret it. Just FUCK ME NOW! BABY! . . . OH! GOD!” Her last two words - were as I, with ever so gradual increments, pushed into her vagina. The hot tissue had almost no resistance, the head of my penis sliced into the pulpy mass, and then I felt her muscles grip me and grasp my shaft as it advanced deeper, almost half in. I wanted this to last, there was only one time I would be making this first plunge. Many more would certainly follow in the minutes and days ahead but this was the preeminent penetration.
Then it was all the way in, I was smack up to my balls in my mother's channel. I held it there for long moments. I thought I might even be touching the opening of her womb, some rubbery bumps down in her depths. But I couldn't hold it for very long and the urge to stroke overcame the keening critical necessity for my sex being surrounded by my mother's body. The son had come home, the mother welcomed his return. And again I socked it in the vital hole of her love, withdrew and pushed, pulled back and drove inward, backed out and plowed up once more, to and fro I rammed and raised my hips to take my meat out of her heat. But I had to poke into heaven again, and the cycle kept repeating, the instrument of my passion was put to her place of hunger, the insane incestuous intensity was increasing as our fucking climbed by leaps and bounds to heights of magnitude I could have never imagined.
We were a run-away train, a roaring whirlwind of lust swirling and sweeping all thought away, only rapture was left in the wake of our destruction of consciousness. Just ecstasy remained in our brains, as a burning of the exquisite physical sensation of pure pleasure, concentrated to a point of light, that flashed ever rapidly. Then the pulsar finally went supernova, with our cumming together. Mother screamed so loud I had ringing in me ears for a while. I shouted at the top of my lungs as I blasted in her. She froze in the thrust of her paroxysm of climaxing. I flooded her chamber with my pent up lava of sperm. She washed out the chasm of her cunny with a spume of froth. Our orgasms went on and on, in a suspension of time and space.
She called, “Yes! Yes! Baby! Let me have all your hot jism. Give me your sweet seed, my son, make mommy cum NOWWW!”
I answered my lover, “Uhuh, mom here it is! I'm cumming in you, NOW! God! I feel your cunt clamping on my cock, I have to let it all flow into you, my sperm in your womb. I LOVE YOU! MOM! I LOVE FUCKING YOU MOMMY!”
“Oh yes! I love you too, Baby, My sweet boy, made mommy cum so good! It had to be, we couldn't help ourselves. Two horny people, and now we have given each other what we both needed for so long. Maybe we were bad, but it was soo good!”
After a few minutes went by, and I was able to get my wind back, I spoke with a great love in my heart for the woman under me, and with a huge lump of lust beginning to revive my rod. “Mom, I guess the 'no balling' rule snowballed out of out control. But, I think we are both happy about that. So, do you want to build a snowman, since we made such a grand start?”
Mom hunched her hips to my recovering stiff staff. 'Yeah, Kiddo, it's going to be a real white Christmas inside and out!”
I saw she was right, outside the window it was snowing; and in her bed, we were reconnecting once more in the incestuous copulation that had become our favorite dance. The sno' ball effect was rolling again!