Water sluiced from the metal cabin roof, a trickling, chuckling audible testimony to the cold rain driven sideways by fitful gusts of wind. Light fog lay about the small but homey structure occupying a spur of Lookout Mountain that overlooked U. S. Highway 11 far below. Soggy silence enveloped an auburn-haired woman of forty-one standing near a post on the front porch.
Dana Marlow was hardly dressed for this sort of weather. She realized that she could resolve her growing discomfort by either going back inside where her twenty-year-old hulk of a son, Carey, still slept or by doing the smart thing...getting a coat and then standing outside if she must. She stubbornly elected to do neither and wrapped her arms about herself as if that would ward off the shivers threatening to become shakes at any second.
She wore a form-fitting pair of denims that had been on the trail for some time, so to speak. They were limp, faded to a pale bluish white and rode tightly over the tops of her black Dan Post high heeled boots. She wore only a man's thin ribbed undershirt cut off and hemmed slightly below her sizeable, heavy breasts. Her areoles were large, dark brown and quite plump, tipped with hard nipples that protruded through the undershirt as if they were little blackberries. Her 29DD chest was large enough that the shirt hung from her nipples, well away from her muscled abdomen. A gold ring pierced her navel and supported a small emerald ball at the end of a two-inch chain.
The face above this sensuous display was slender with deep green eyes, a Roman nose, and a wide mouth that seemed as if it ought to smile easily. But there was no smile today. Long auburn waves fell over her shoulders to the middle of her back, also framing her sad face. Her breasts rested warm and comfortably heavy on her crossed arms, but she seemed to not notice.
It had been a year now since Gary, her husband and light of her life for nineteen years had died. Florida State troopers arrived to inform her graciously and with every professional courtesy that Gary had been struck by a vehicle on I-95 beneath the flyover from Palm Beach to the airport west of the city. For some unfathomable reason a driver had stopped his pickup on top of the flyover, was struck from behind and was launched out over the retaining wall onto the interstate below. Right on top of Gary's Rodeo. No one could have survived such an event.
Carey was well into his second year at college. He rushed home, assisted her in handling all those necessary and dreadful tasks that must be dealt with for only one reason: because a loved one has died. He reminded her of his father, big, powerful, thoughtful, and solicitous of her needs. They had always been extremely close as a small family, and during his later teens she and Gary had never concealed from their son their loving affections for each other.
Despite her increasing cold, her mind drifted back over years past. Tears misted her eyes and finally ran slowly down her cheeks. She and Gary had always caressed openly and easily around others. At times this disconcerted friends and distant family who finally got used to it, but they had lost several friends who just did not like the sensual displays of unassuming, unplanned love that she and her husband enjoyed.
She recalled how Gary would hold her breasts or remove her top altogether as they sat watching television. By the time Carey was eighteen he had a fully developed sense of humor and joined in good-naturedly kidding his mother about her breasts. He and his father would hoot at her studied determination to not make a big deal out of her assets even as she would sunbathe topless at the beach or wear some extremely suggestive outfit with his father. She took it all in stride.
"You're just jealous, Large Human," she would shoot back with a broad grin. This was followed by a shake of her torso that caused her breasts to quiver as if they were mounds of gelatin.
Even after having been graduated from high school Carey remained very close to his family. He brought dates to their home, and his mother was the perfect host, combining attractiveness with humor, imagination and her respect for their son's guests. For some reason, and she and Gary had never ceased to give thanks, Carey had avoided those painful years when teens become less pleasant than a cold barium enema.
Even with friends about, however, Dana rarely restrained her penchant for partial nudity and would swim topless in their pool or at the beach. Carey's acquaintances liked Dana for a variety of reasons, not the least of which was her nudity, but they also thought she was a work of art. Other aspects of their respect and affection for Carey's mother were her insistence that they respect her and her seemingly unending sense of humor.
She recalled how her husband and grown-up son [had he really matured so rapidly in such a short time?] had, without pretense, hugged her and cupped her breasts or tugged at a nipple as they greeted her or departed for the day. What Dana did not know was that her son, sometime during his nineteenth year, had realized he not only loved her but was in love with her. This had grown in intensity until she rarely left his thoughts.
Carey believed his mother to be the sexiest, most sensuous woman he had ever known. During the years at college he dated often and had many female friends; but his desire for Dana never abated although he managed a tight rein on his expression of it. His return home and residence there during the past year since his father's death had provided opportunity for a very delicate and slow yet definitely growing intimacy between the two.
This tender yet unconventional relationship signaled its presence through their more and more frequent trips out together, several dinner-and-movie engagements that in reality were nothing short of dates, a subtle change in the way they kissed and Dana's now habitual dressing in revealing clothing when they sat watching television together in the evening. These times were precious, quiet, not especially loaded with sexuality, yet increasingly significant in their changing relationship.
They sat together rather than separately. She had purchased several thongs as swimsuit replacements for her son to wear when they swam or sunned together, and in contrast to the likely reaction of many older teens Carey enjoyed doing so. At the very first he thought he would have died rather than get himself something so skimpy. But as he wore them to please her in the process he began to enjoy the sensation of being so bare. Eventually, he came to relish being stared at by others.
Still, their relationship was casually sensuous, not aggressively overt and deliberate. On more than a few occasions when Carey's friends who had never met his mother saw them together, they were quick to ask where in the world he had found this Babe with a capital B.
Now here they were in this cabin on a rain-swept ridge in the heart of the Southland. Dana heard the screen door open behind her, then heavy steps crossed the porch and Carey stood behind her. She felt his arms encircle her waist, his fingers immediately fondling her navel pendant. He buried his face in her auburn waves and whispered into her left ear.
"Okay, what's my favorite Mother doing out here dressed like this?" He gave her navel jewelry a gentle tug, then ran his fingers up and down her bare abdomen. Dana shivered with something having nothing at all to do with temperature.
"Gotta admit that I am about to freeze," she responded softly as she wiped away a tear.
Carey kneaded her tummy as she raised her arms back behind her to touch his face with her hands. As he looked down her chest from over her left shoulder he saw her breasts pressing outward, her nipples dark and outlined. At that point her son gave up his self-imposed restraint and slid his hands upward beneath the cutoff top, enfolding her heavy breasts and tenderly thumbing those delicious plump little shapes on top of them.
Dana gasped with pleasure, saying nothing. For several moments he squeezed the warm, gelatin-like shapes, never ceasing his feathery touches of her nipples, then he put his arm around her waist and turned her about.
"Mom, let's go inside. Even I know that you'll get sick if you stay out here."
Dana acquiesced, not looking at her son but dropping her right hand to hold his arm about her waist. Once they had entered the cabin, a warm crackle and snap from the fireplace greeted her. She glanced at the son who towered over her despite her own five feet, six inches. He grinned as he led her to the large, soft couch set directly before the blazing hearth. Without a word she accepted his direction to sit; Carey reached out quickly to gather her legs and sweep them up onto the rough-hewn low table placed between the hearth and couch.
"The clumsy oaf of a son orders beautiful woman to sit and wait. Clumsy oaf has coffee for beautiful woman."
Dana did a very bad job of keeping her sad countenance. The ends of her mouth twitched as her green eyes fixed the handsome man before her. He was making a show of bowing three times. The thought of him bowing to her finally broke her depression and she giggled.
"Does Large Clumsy Oaf include pancakes and bacon with coffee for beautiful woman?"
"Of course. We have full service here," he shot back in a falsetto voice which was just that much more silly because of the large frame out of which it came.
"Good answer!" she replied. "Maybe beautiful woman have reward for Clumsy Oaf when he deliver promised food."
"Miserable, undeserving son now has hope."
"Young man, you have no idea how frequently your father and I used to agree that truly, you could be miserable and undeserving. Buuut...at his urging we decided to keep you."
Carey stared at his mother with a grin tugging at each end of his broad mouth. He has so much of me in looks, she thought, but his heart is his father's. So precious. Dear heavens, he is so precious to me.
He departed for the kitchen area on the north wall of the large central room. Dana leaned back into the couch and pulled about her a large afghan decorated with a western motif. Almost immediately she began to warm before the fire. She laid back her head against the cushion, feeling the heavy comfort of her breasts as they shifted against her chest and arms. She glanced down and saw that her nipples were still hard; the sight pleased and excited her, but she wondered if she was right in presenting herself to her son in such a sensuous fashion. In her present position most of her assets were exposed beneath the short shirt.
Dana had these bouts of uncertainty about her increasingly frequent desire for her son and the propriety of it all. Parents just didn't do this. Still, they had always been far more intimate in their relationship than most mothers and sons. On the one hand she wanted him now in ways that were normally forbidden and she sensed the same desire in him. On the other, she feared repercussions from any more intimate relationship between them. For reasons she could not express to herself Dana sensed that today held the answer to her quandary.
The delightful scent of bacon and a sound of pancakes cooking wafted over to Carey's mother. He served her on an old cafeteria tray he had liberated via the five-finger discount from a pile where they had been tossed in his university dining hall. She eagerly but carefully grabbed the coffee mug and sipped the fragrant amaretto-flavored brew, her favorite type. It wasn't usually here; Carey had brought it along for her. Now that she was warm, she removed the afghan and ate with gusto.
Her son joined her shortly, carefully juggling his own tray and monster mug of coffee as he planted himself gingerly at the opposite end of the couch.
"Warmed up, eh, Mom?" he grinned, noticing the absence of her cover and the manner in which her cut-off undershirt had ridden up her chest, baring the lower full curves of her breasts.
Good, lord, but she's huge, he thought to himself. As he had experienced so often in the past, his cock firmed and an electric bolt surged through his loins. He ate silently, not intending to disconnect from the lovely woman at the other end of the couch. Heat from the warm orange and yellow spitting flames relaxed him as he drifted back over recent years with his parents.
As he had matured, his desire for Dana had intensified. He could never really tell if she knew what was going on in her son. There were times when she caught him staring at her at the beach, at home and simply out in public on errands. Dana dressed with grace and style, yet she gave off an aura of sensuality that he had never encountered in any of the girls he dated. She seemed to know how to be sexy and desirable even when she was doing nothing out of the ordinary. He realized that the old axiom at which he had often laughed actually held truth: "No one can be as sexy as an older woman."
Friends came over to his house just to hang around Dana and ogle her. She, of course, loved it. Even his father had enjoyed it; Gary was never in the dark about the effect his wife had on others. And to cement her enjoyment, he regularly screwed her legs off. Carey smiled as he recalled the night when he awoke at 2:30 in the morning to his mother's heavy panting and ecstatic cries from the patio. He sneaked back to watch through the kitchen sliding glass door and marveled at his mother's and father's sexual prowess.
He had been nude since that was how he slept each night and he swelled to a gorgeous eight inches watching his parents. He touched his cock and almost came, managing to just barely resist plunging over the rim of that sexual gorge into an exquisite orgasm. He had gone back to his room, turned on a low light and posed before his full-length mirror. He raised his arms, clasping his hands behind his head and twisting his beautiful body to view his thick, rod-like cock.
His testes swung gently against his inner thighs. He admired his assets, aroused by the appearance of the corona of dense, black uncut hair encircling the base of his cock and completely covering his balls. For some time now he had shaved his thighs and abdomen to accentuate the thick fur on his genitals.
He recalled touching the opening in the swollen mantle of his cock and feeling the clear drop of dew there. He tasted it, gazed at himself for another moment, then lay down on his bed without cover, switching off the bedside lamp as he did so. Reflections from a bright moon provided sufficient light for him to see his erect cock. Delicate touches and strokes soon brought a delicious climax as he caressed his left nipple and thought of his mother's huge breasts with those luscious fat nipples.
He used the index finger of his right hand to massage the delicate spot under its head. Heat flowed through his thighs. With his left hand he caressed his incredibly smooth skin, arousing himself more with thoughts of how silky his skin felt. He fantasized his mother crouching over him on his bed, he inserting himself gently between her thighs as she hung above him, her great breasts suspended like some exotic fruit, the nipples tracing lines across his chest as if they were the wings of a butterfly.
Carey remembered the beauty of coming. He did not spurt that night. Instead, his cream flowed like viscous, milky lava out of its hole, over his crown, spilling down the length of his penis, covering his hand with warm stickiness, lubricating his staff to an incredible smoothness.
He felt his cum slide warmly into his pubic fur, tickling delightfully as it flowed around the strands of hair. He was so hot. He felt his emissions move as far as his anal cleft and trickle down that passage between his buns. Finally he exhausted his flow. After stroking his hardness for a short time, Carey raised his hand to his mouth and tasted his cream.
He slept. He never heard the sound at 4:00 a.m. as his mother, also nude, stood in his doorway staring longingly at her naked son. She knew that he shaved his thighs, buttocks and abdomen for she had watched him in his thong. He had no idea of the fire burning in her own heart for this lovely specimen of manhood she and Gary had created.
"A penny for your thoughts, beautiful man," said his mother, breaking into Carey's reverie.
Dana rose from the couch, returned her tray to the sink where she tossed out the paper items, wiped the tray and returned it to the top of the refrigerator. She opened her handbag, withdrew her hair brush, and walked over behind her son. As he was preparing to respond to her question, she loosened the band holding his pony tail and allowed the glorious jet black mane to cascade over his shoulders.
When Carey was ten years old one day he ran his fingers through his mother's auburn tresses, remarking as he did so, "Mom, I wish I had hair like yours."
"Unless you color it, Honey, you can't."
"No, I mean I wish mine was long like yours. I like long hair."
She always paid attention to their son's remarks, even when they seemed off-the-wall. Children, she knew, frequently express heartfelt desires in remarks that adults would consider flighty or childish. Dana had long ago realized that there was a vast difference between childish and childlike. Long hair had always aroused her and her husband; she decided to answer her son's desire.
"Honey, let's not get you any haircuts for a while? Would you like that? After all, General George Custer and Buffalo Bill Cody had long, lovely hair."
What child enjoys a haircut, anyhow, she thought. By this time schools in certain areas of the country had moved on to more pressing issues than hair length, so during the succeeding years Carey's steadily lengthening and thickening mane was no problem as long as she and he kept it clean and neat. Dana was highly skilled at this sort of training.
By sixteen under her persistent guidance, part of which was the cultivation of the hair at his hairline to the same length as that on the sides and back of his head, her son had a beautiful fall of hair that grew to just below his shoulders. It was heavy, black with delicate bluish highlights, extremely dense, and fell in the sort of rolling waves for which most women she knew would gladly kill.
When he had not pulled it back in a ponytail his hair had a gorgeous heavy wave over his right eye and, if left to itself, often fell across the upper part of his face, partially concealing his eye. He liked it and usually left it alone. Probably because of their closeness and rather unrestrained family relationship, Carey continued to enjoy Dana's brushing of his locks well after he had moved into "those difficult teen years." Having skipped the difficult part and going on to maturity, Carey was thus able to learn life lessons that others would confront a decade down the road, often much to their grief.
When he went off to school her son wore his beautiful hair in a ponytail, uninterested in making statements or becoming an item of display. By the time Carey returned last year to help her, his hair reached the middle of his back. The sight of its unbound, glossy black waves aroused her sexually. Every single time she gazed at him in more than a glancing fashion she experienced the same lovely warmth and increased moisture in her pussy.
He had a facial structure that, while strong and expressive, was also hospitable to long hair. It made him sexy in an exciting masculine way.
As Dana began to brush his long hair, Carey answered.
"I was remembering years in our family when you and Dad would swim in our pool. You would take off your top and Dad would play with your boobs while I was there. It didn't make any difference. I thought it was great."
"Do you recall if it ever bothered you?"
"Nope, it didn't. I thought it was neat...it sure looked sexy. I remember when I was little I thought every mom did it. Later after my friends saw you topless at the beach, I found out that nobody I knew had a mother who did that around their kids."
"Son, when were you ever little?" she shot back with a laugh. Then she continued.
"I always liked the way your friends treated me, Carey. I wasn't trying to show off. I just liked going topless and you and your father certainly seemed to enjoy it." She giggled at recollections of their ribald comments in private and their shouts to her at the beach.
She worked her brush through the lovely tresses until they spread like a great dark fan across the back of the light-hued couch. She took special care to brush out the wave over the right side of his face so that that lovely deep wave flowed softly downward, concealing his eye.
"You are beautiful in the way that only a man can be," she remarked softly, hardly audible over the blast of rain and wind that struck the southern side of the cabin. It sounded as frigid as it was, but she was warm and the room had evolved into a cozy hideaway. She was grateful for her son's insistence that they get away to this small mountain retreat.
He heard her, reached up behind his head to grasp her hand with the brush and coaxed his mother around the end of the couch.
"You've done your work for today, Girl," he grinned. "I think it's time for you to have a seat and take it easy. And the best place for that is...right here."
Carey pulled her down beside him. She removed her boots, then Dana went further to turn sideways, laying her head in his lap and placing her legs down the length of the couch. Her cropped undershirt top pulled upward, revealing most of her breasts. Her nipples were plump and stuck up as if they were little round hills.
"Did anyone ever tell you that you are really irresistible when you do that?" he asked. "I mean, Dana, you really stress a guy, even one as strong as I am. You see, I am usually an oak when it comes to things such as this. Here we are on a rainy, cold day in a little cabin about thirty miles from anywhere, and in my lap is the most beautiful and sexy woman I have ever known. She has a world class pair of tits...,"
"Breasts. I have always tried to get you and your incorrigible, wonderful father to say breasts. Tits sounds so tacky and dull. But....," and she flashed a bright smile, "...I love it!"
"You really drive a hard bargain," Carey laughed. "Yeah, I'm an oak all right!"
Their eyes locked and held. During that moment something joined that until now had been separated. Exactly what, neither could explain afterward. Dana's green eyes widened as she gazed beyond her son's own expression and into his mind, his desires.
Carey touched her navel with his left hand, fondling the ring and its pendant that had slid off to one side of her tummy. He wandered his left hand over her muscled abdomen, following the ridges of her abs until her reached the great orbs of her breasts. Without hesitation, he slid the top upward, then pulled it over her head and tossed it on the table before them.
With no word, he used both hands to caress her fat nipples, brushing them about over the plump mounds, tweaking her tips until they stood like small hard, perfectly pointed hilltops. He refused to look at his mother, moving instead to fondle her warm and jiggly tanned breasts. She gasped with pleasure and attempted to hold his hands tightly against her.
"No, dear, keep your hands beside you. It makes this more exciting when you want to touch me and can't."
"Carey, are you sure you want to do this? I mean, I don't want you to regret something as precious as this. I love you too much for that."
She touched his face and traced her fingernails delicately over his cheeks. Then she drew his hair over his shoulders until its bulk surrounded his face and fell nearly to her own.
In response, he pulled her upright and covered her mouth with his own. The sensation was sweet and electric. In all the liberties his mother had allowed him, they had never kissed deeply. He felt her serpent-like tongue brush his lips, squirming and darting until it found an opening. Then it shot into his mouth, lashing about against his own. He responded in kind, sucking her moist little snake, following the outlines of her teeth and gums.
All her reserve departed, and Dana gave in to the flames that she had for so long kept at bay. The physical and emotional effect was so great that Carey actually felt a change in her. He ceased his kiss and stared at her. She smiled softly, turning toward him to press her breasts into his abdomen.
"You felt that, didn't you?" she whispered with a giggle.
"Yes. What happened? Is everything all right?"
"Carey, Carey, you have to be a woman and a mother to understand. It was what is known as surrendering one's self to another. I just did."
Wind and rain buffeted the cabin, creating a din on the roof despite very effective insulation above the ceiling. Heavy droplets struck the western side of the structure, turning the window glass into rippling, gray panes impossible to see through. Determined gusts worked heavy drops of water under the chimney cap, causing a hissing sound when they fell into hot coals below, sounding as if there was a serious leak of steam from a pipe.
Her auburn hair framed her face in a lovely display of coppery red waves. He noted the tiny lines exiting the outer extremity of each of her eyes, her full lips and straight nose, her white teeth. He saw a tiny hole in her septum, the separation of her nostrils, and asked her about it.
"What is that little hole? You had your nose pierced while I was at college, didn't you? Why don't you wear it?"
"Yes, I had it pierced. Before you came back I wore a gold triangle there; it is small and feels sexy against my lip. I didn't know if you would like it so I took it out."
"Okaaaay...can you think of one good reason why you shouldn't put it back?" He gazed at her with mock seriousness as if he were disciplining a child.
"Nope, " she replied lightly. "Want me to get it now?"
"I most certainly do. You, Dana, are the sexiest broad I have ever met. I like your navel jewelry...a nose ring has to be sexy, too. Besides," he smiled conspiratorially, "if you become difficult, I can always lead you around by it."
"Baby, you don't need any ring to lead me around. Just point me in a direction." She stared into and beyond his eyes.
Dana rose and went to the bedroom. She emerged a quarter of an hour later following mysterious banging sounds and a period of silence. When she once more stretched out with her head in his lap, Carey noted the gold triangle resting brightly on her upper lip. He flipped it as he had her navel pendant, enjoying his arousal. Between his fetishes for long hair and piercings on women, he knew he was in for a treat with his mother.
"Do you know when I finally faced my desires for you?" she asked.
"When, Dana?"
"Do you remember that night you heard your father and me out in the pool? He was...um...rather, we were enjoying rather heavy, hot and loud sex."
"I certainly do. I think the whole side of town heard you two."
"Yeah....well, you were standing in the doorway watching. You thought we didn't see, but I did, Carey. It made me feel cherished and excited and sensual to have you see that. Later after we kissed good night, I got up and went to your room. I stood back in the darkness outside your room and watched you standing in front of your mirror. You have no idea how beautiful you were and are, Carey."
"And what else did you see, O Tricky, Sneaky Woman?"
"I watched you make love with yourself. You came and it was simply gorgeous. I saw it flow over your hand as if it was lava, and I had an orgasm right outside your room. I touched myself and even after Gary and I had made love I was dripping. I had cum sliding down my legs, I was so hot. You had no idea that I was hanging on to that rocking chair to keep from falling, I was so weak."
"Apparently, I must have pleased this sensuous spy outside my room," he smiled.
"More than that. Until you returned this past year, I would touch myself and finger myself with thoughts of you that night. I realized, Honey, that I could never act on my desires, and then ...then your father died. You came home and all those longings flared up again. I did my best to keep them contained, Carey, so that you would not think...," and she trailed off into silence.
"You didn't want me to think worse of you, that you were a terrible parent," he whispered into her ear.
"Yes."
"No."
She jerked about to stare at him. Her son smiled at her, then replied, "I do not think anything of you, Dana, except the best. And these things you have told me free me to love you and to do what I have wanted to do for some time."
"You are exquisitely erotic, Carey. Will you do something for me?"
"Please ask."
"It's warm and comfortable in here and that rug in front of the hearth is heavy enough. I want you to stand before the fire and very slowly remove your clothes for me. It is something I have wanted for a really long time."
She stared at him with the simple desire of a child. He helped her to move from his lap, then he stood and walked to the carpet before the banked fire. Carey felt no embarrassment, no hesitation. He moved his head about, enjoying the heavy warmth of his mane on his shoulders and back. The thick wave of his hair fell once more over his face and he saw an expression of pure longing pass over Dana's countenance.
Very slowly and with simplicity he unbuttoned his shirt and set it aside. Then he sat on one corner of the table to remove his shoes and socks. Finally, he stood, unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down. He wore no underwear. Dana's expression was one of absolute hunger.
Carey stepped out of his denims, picked them up and folded them, then placed them beside his shirt. He ran his hands over his butter-smooth thighs and buttocks as he faced away from his mother. His cock firmed, then hardened aggressively. When he turned about once more, he was fat and heavy and beautiful.
Lush black pubic fur encircled his penis and covered his ball sac in a bushy thicket, a sensuous contrast to the expanse of smooth, lightly tanned flesh over the rest of his muscular and shapely body. Dana noted that he shaved beneath his arms, making his pubic bush the only heavy concentration of hair on his body besides his gorgeous waist-length tresses.
His rod-like penis throbbed gently with the beat of his heart as blood coursed through its veins and about its muscle. Carey's mother touched her nipples softly and bit her lower lip with anticipation. He was stunning. He was everything for which she had longed, and she felt her pussy wet itself, dripping onto the inside of her jeans. She, too, wore nothing else.
"Lover, you are beautiful. You are gorgeous. You are even more so because you don't think you are, and that absence of pride makes you more delectable. Stay there, Carey."
Dana rose from the couch, moving slowly and allowing her breasts to swing heavily as if they were great ripe fruit to be harvested by this lovely man. She stood momentarily, placing her hands on his hips, then she knelt before him and grasped his fully swollen cock. He was eight luscious inches in length.
Without a word she opened her mouth and ran out her tongue, laying his penis tenderly on a bed of moist taste buds, then she began her swallow. Carey had expected her to kiss his head and lick his shaft; instead, Dana inserted more and more of his length into her mouth, stopping only to savor his taste and arrange her tongue to prevent choking. His diameter required that she open wide to receive him. This aroused her immensely but it also forced her to accept his cock with care if she wanted to move him into her throat. Dana had every intention of accomplishing that.
As Carey watched, exquisite electric surges coursing through his body, Dana reached her complete swallow. He felt the warmth of her throat and sensed a gentle suction about his sensitive crown. His mother grasped the cheeks of his butt, holding her position and breathing faintly, carefully. Thick black pubic fur surrounded her face, obscuring her vision. Her nose touched his abdomen. She was home and sensed his closeness to an orgasm.
Bringing a man to climax by way of oral sex is certainly possible, but it is not always easy to accomplish. Achieving this is a complex mix of arousal, touch, his mental imagery and the skill of the one performing the delicious act. Dana was aware of this, yet she believed it possible because of her own and her son's boiling desires. She allowed him to be possessed by the sensations of her mouth and tongue, then she began a slow withdrawal until she could massage the nether part of his head with her tongue.
She tasted his dew and knew that she would be successful. She caressed his lovely ass and thighs, marveling at the softness of a man's skin. He smelled of manhood and a faint touch of some sexy cologne; she knew that his care of his body included his cock and balls. How sensuous it was to feel that long, curling hair gracing his cock and sac while touching his velvet flesh everywhere else! Dana brushed his anus with her fingernail.
As she applied gentle suction to his crown, she felt his contractions begin. From habit he wanted to drive into and withdraw from her mouth, but she held him firmly by his buttocks. She felt her pussy cream once more as his ejaculation began.
Her son groaned as the first ribbon of semen spooled out and into her mouth. She closed her eyes in ecstasy as the lightly salted cream shot onto her tongue. It was followed by another string of viscous fluid and a third, then she swallowed. Now came smaller jets of the thick and sticky cum. She relished his taste. Finally he had exhausted his supply and she swallowed for the last time.
Carey held his mother's head as a great weakness infused his legs.
"Darling, please...quickly...hurry...I need you!" she insisted.
Dana stripped off her boots and jeans, then she led him to the couch and urged him to lie down first. He never took his eyes from her. She glanced down to look at his shaft and saw that he was wet, red and completely aroused. When he lay back, his cock stood upright as if it were a pole jutting from his body.
Onto that pole she settled her body, raising and lowering herself slowly on his spear. Despite the soft noises of the fire, both could hear exotic, sticky sounds from between them. With strong arms Carey lifted her hips upward, then brought them down more forcefully onto his hardness, drawing from his mother a gasp of ecstasy.
"Oh! Oooohh...Oh, damn! I...oh, Carey, I am coming...I am coming...."
He felt a decrease in what little friction there had been between his penis and the red, turgid walls of her pussy. She creamed once more, enough to squeeze past his penetration and work its way slowly down his rod. He increased his thrusting, both raising and lowering her onto his cock and pushing himself into her vagina.
Carey, with his slow and mature techniques, escorted Dana through ten orgasms of varying intensity over the course of two hours. By this time both were sweating and their cum had escaped onto their skin, giving their bodies a wonderful sticky slickness on which they seemed to skate. Finally, Carey's eyes widened unexpectedly, his breathing increased in tempo, and he began to more forcefully penetrate Dana.
"Ummm...Dana...yes...yes, I'm coming again, Baby," he panted.
Before she could reply he bucked wildly as jets of hot cream shot into her pussy. For reasons he was at a loss to explain, this climax was more gripping, more heated and possessive than his first. Whether it was because he had first come into her mouth and now was filling her body he could not say. But he captured her, of that he was certain.
Dana closed her eyes in submission, allowing her son to control their intercourse. He held her and guided her with a sweet beauty and determination that left her feeling greatly cherished and ravished. Her breasts swayed about, beautiful testimonies to her femininity.
"Dana, Dana, I want to own you! I must have you! There is no one else...you must believe that. This is ours, do you understand?"
The gorgeous man beneath her stared deep into her eyes, fully aware of their forbidden love and completely given to her. She capitulated to her son once more, this time willingly accepting the consequences of their living together as a sexually involved couple, whatever those consequences might be.
"I understand, Darling. I understand and that is precious to me."
She was stuffed with his beautiful cock. His size made for intense friction with the walls of her pussy, despite her frequent use of her large dildo. This was nothing like any past experience she'd enjoyed. Carey, eighteen years younger than she, nevertheless made love to her as if he were a man twice his age and far more experienced. He did not hurry, not in anything. He controlled her and tenderly coaxed orgasm after orgasm from her, some wrenching and storm-like, others sweet little buzzes of sensual electricity that made her giggle.
Her son extended their intercourse far beyond what she had enjoyed with her beloved Gary. The latter had been a beautiful lover and their unions had lasted for more than an hour; this first sex with her son was into its third hour and he showed no sign of softening and tiring.
Carey whispered to her of her erotic sweetness, her casual sensuality that made her all the more desirable. He described her nipples, hard beneath her sweater one day when he was eighteen and they had gone to the mall together. She was standing behind him in a checkout line and she reached back to re-gather her hair into her band. The associate at the checkout counter caught his breath at the sight of her unrestrained breasts under her sweater, nipples fat and standing out from her roundness. The man had to re-run her credit card three times to get the charge right.
When she lowered her arms she had smiled at her son as her breasts quivered with a life of their own. They walked out and he stared at his mother's tits, big, swelling out on each side past her arms. As she put an arm about his waist and kissed his cheek, he burned with embarrassment at her having seen him ogling her. She had laughed and hooked her arm through his, shoving her heavy breast into his side.
Dana drowsed in a luscious sexual fog as Carey whispered to her of how he had felt when he saw for the first time her pussy bush, a great starburst of reddish brown fur six inches wide and standing out from her abdomen, so dense that he could not see her lips between her thighs, curly and soft and long enough to brush. He had returned to his room, caressed himself and spurted cream all over his bed.
In turn, his mother smiled as she spoke of her fetish with his long hair, of her longing to touch his tanned, shaven legs and ass, of her arousal at his carefully cultivated pubic hair around his cock and balls and his shaven underarms. She stuck her tongue into his mouth, then described her longing for intercourse with her son, of her pleasure in his manipulation of her breasts.
By four o'clock in the afternoon, he and she were completely exhausted, moving only very slowly over each other's abdomen, relishing the sticky, slippery and lovely mess they had made. Both lovers arose and used the bathroom, then they moved to the bedroom where they burrowed under the covers, laughing and touching each other.
They slept the sleep of the truly weary. At some point in the gathering dusk as rain continued to spatter against the windows, Carey moved behind her and once more pressed his hard cock into her pussy, shoving home and then going to sleep within her. She moaned softly in her sleep, her body informing her at some deep level that she had been overcome once more, then there was silence.
In spite of his exhaustion, Carey awoke at 7:00 o'clock on another gray morning. Dana was still in her position before him, but his penis had withdrawn from her of its own accord, shrinking from its heroic performance of the day before. He felt the sheet beneath them and found it to be wet with their juices.
Dana's auburn hair lay over her face, concealing the high planes of her bone structure. Her left ear, uncovered, resembled a delicate sea shell, pierced to allow a gold pendant that lay upon her neck. The triangle in her nose lay against her lip. He raised the sheet and marveled at her small waist that flowed outward into her sensuous hips and muscular thighs. Her great breasts lay heavy and warm upon her right arm as she slept.
Her son could restrain himself no longer.
Carey gently rolled her on to her back and barely parted her legs, opening her furry lips. Still she had not awakened though her eyelids fluttered. Carey carefully opened the small drawer in the bedside table and withdrew the small bottle of lubricant. With one hand he flipped the cap and drizzled warm gel over the head of his swelling penis, now firm enough to stand upright when he tightened his muscle. The clear substance trickled down the length of his organ and into his cum-encrusted hair.
With the realization that he must move quickly in order to surprise and capture her, he positioned his wet cock directly in front of her vagina and drove firmly inward until he reached her base. Dana's eyes opened in surprise, then immediately she reached for him.
"I'm sorry, Mother. I simply could not wait any longer. I had to have you now."
He withdrew as he spoke, then drove home once more. She gasped, then locked her thighs together, increasing the friction of her body upon the impudent intruder. She was tight and hot despite their intense activity of the day and night before.
This time he came in a rush after his fourth thrust. With a shout, Carey increased his assault upon Dana as jets of cum spurted into sticky, warm red leaves of flesh. She twisted and squirmed in his grasp, endeavoring in an exquisitely feminine way to escape and simultaneously desiring that he never permit her to depart his beautiful trap.
Her breasts bounced from side-to-side, her arms fell to the bed as her hands fluttered aimlessly and an orgasm wracked her frame.
"Carey! O my beautiful lover!!! You...you...OH! Oh, Carey, you're taking everything. I have nothing left. Nothing at all. Oohhhh...."
As he crouched above her his long dark tresses surrounded his face and hers, cutting off outside light as if a tent had been thrown over them. Her navel pendant flipped across her abdomen, once more sticky with cum and perspiration.
Carey thrust gently yet steadily long after his cream ceased flowing. As before, he coaxed from his mother more orgasms, this time all soft and sweet little buzzes that rattled her emotionally with their tiny massages of her sensitive flesh.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
They bathed and Carey served breakfast. Then they dressed and ran out in the rain to their vehicle. Carey drove them to several antique shops where they browsed before stopping for lunch at a fast food restaurant. At his mother's insistence Carey wore his hair unbound. He was quite a handsome young man in a denim shirt and jeans with a brown distressed leather jacket and hiking boots.
She wore her hair in a ponytail and had on a close fitting tank top with a deeply scooped neckline under her partially buttoned denim jacket. Carey told her that her jeans were so tight that if she'd put a dollar bill in her hip pocket people could see the outline of George Washington's face. With her jacket buttoned below her breasts, Dana's heroic cleavage was open for all to see.
And all those who saw her definitely wanted to admire. Carey enjoyed the efforts of men, women and boys to position themselves so that they could see her display. He also enjoyed his own hardness that was quite noticeable down his left thigh. His mother was appreciative as well of his obvious asset.
"Carey," she said to her son as they ate at a table by the window, "there is something I want you to know, something I hope you will understand. For me this love with you is permanent. It's not something we have now and that I'll get over when we get back home.
"Back last year before you came home I was so lonely without your father and without you. One day I met a friend from our high school, a woman Gary and I had not seen since we were graduated. Lacey and I became close friends, very close although she is happily married with two precious children.
"I had to make a trip for to Mobile for WPKZ and I asked her if she would like to accompany me. Lacey went and we had a grand time. We went out one night to a sports bar and had a great time dancing with lots of people...."
"And I'll bet lots of people had a grand time dancing with you, too," he grinned.
She reddened and giggled at his implication. "Oh, all right, they did. I didn't wear a bra that night and I had on a tank top and that was a big mistake. I...um...Baby, I fell out while we were dancing. My breast came out of my top."
"Well, large equipment that is not tied down often shakes loose," her son retorted.
"You're so cute, aren't you! Are you having fun, Carey?" She feigned aggravation and tried to glare at him but failed miserably.
"Yup. I learned it from you and Dad. So, what happened? Did you have to outrun the entire bar full of people or did you manage to stuff those beautiful monsters back inside your top?"
"I was dancing with Lacey when it happened, and she wouldn't let me stop to do anything about it. She pulled me closer and before I knew what was happening she kissed me. Carey, we got real frisky before we left. She played with me and I let her. It was so sweet. We went back to the hotel and slept together."
"So, you were so tired, you just fell into bed and dropped off to sleep," he stated factually.
"Umm, no. Carey, we made love that night. She has been a dear friend since, and when we get together we are rather intimate. I wanted you to know, because you'll meet her sometime soon. Does that change anything between us?"
He was quiet. Then he said thoughtfully, "Well, gee, now that's a hard one. I don't knooowww. She's probably too much competition for me, Dana." He sounded uncertain and rather fearful.
"She is no competition for you! She is my friend. You are my heart. No one has ever touched me as you have."
With a gentle smile her son reached out to touch her face. "I know. I know, Dana. We're in this for the long haul. Keep her as a treasured friend; I'm sure I'll like her, too."
They returned home and while Carey and Lacey became close friends, intimate friends with Dana's approval, she and her son never left each other's side.