Mom, if you pass me that canister," Stan pointed to a round, tin container with sunflowers on the outside and flour on the inside, "I can put it up here. We don't use it much, so it'll be out of the way."
"I appreciate you helping me reorganize the kitchen. I never liked how your father insisted I keep it, and now's the right time to change all that." She passed him the canister, pressing into him a bit as she did.
Did she just rub herself on me? Stan thought, feeling odd at the encounter. You're being stupid. She's your mom.
Stan huffed. His parents had separated more than a year ago and their divorce had just become final. He was glad his mom was finally taking this step, moving on from that relationship. He'd been worried about her. "Glad to help."
"I know, I know. I should have done this long ago." It was as though she was reading his thoughts.
"Mom, everything in its own time. You're the best one to know when to do things for yourself."
"I hope you don't think I'm trying to trash him in your eyes."
Stan stepped down from the stool he'd used to reach the top cupboard shelf. "Not at all, Mom." Gripping her shoulders, lowering his head just a bit, cocking it to one side, he continued. "You've been a trooper, gone through a lot of stuff, and I've never felt you were trying to diminish my relationship with Dad, such as it is. I'm glad we're making these changes to clean the house of him. It's already feeling fresher, friendlier in here."
"Thanks son." She stepped in close, put her arms around him, gave him a tight squeeze. He tingled when her hips rocked against him. Does she know she's doing that?
She released him, turning away. Just his mom again.
"Are you feeling alright, Mom?" He looked at her, noting her fine facial features. Elvish, he'd always thought. She's a dainty lady. Blonde curls framed her delicate nose and chin, cascading past her shoulders, extending to the tops of her breasts. Bosoms. She's your mom, so they're bosoms. She only came up to his armpits, something he'd teased her about ever since his head had nudged higher than hers. He had always thought she looked amazing with her narrow shoulders, slim waist, and legs. But then, she was his mom, and he knew his impression of her was tainted by the love he had for her. Even though he'd seen age working on her, thickening in her thighs and hips, a small paunch but hardly noticeable, certainly nothing like Dad's beer gut. Too, there were lines around her mouth and by her eyes, and speckles of grey at her temples, but after all, she's approaching forty. Stan hoped he looked as good when he was her age, twenty years from now.
"Yes," she gave him a funny look, as though she was concerned or frightened, but it lasted only a moment. "Why?"
"Oh, nothing." Stan stammered, wanting to take back his question and his thoughts. "I just worry about you. I know you've been stressed lately."
"I'm a big girl, but I appreciate the concern."
"You been taking those pills the doctor gave you? You know, for the anxiety."
"Yes, mother." She gave him a stern look.
Stan dropped the subject. "OK, what next?"
They continued to work, assembling the kitchen how his mother wanted it. That made sense to him. She did most of the work in it, so it should suit her. Stan continued to watch his mother, remembering how she's rubbed against him. He wasn't certain why it stuck in his mind, or why it resulted in that tingle that reverberated through him. Maybe because when it happened, it stirred up some of the same feelings that came when a girlfriend got close to him.
He didn't have a girlfriend right now, having broken up with the last one a month ago. He missed the sex play, but not the mind games she was playing, manipulating him. Thinking about how she would touch him, how she felt, caused a flush of tingles in his crotch, so he turned his mind back to the work they were doing.
"Thanks, Stan," his mother sighed. "I am glad that job's done." She stood, one hand on her hip, glancing around the room. The other hand was in front of her, low, hidden by the waist-high counter that was between them. It moved a little. Is she rubbing herself? The thought rocketed into his brain.
He felt a flush as his concentration focussed on that spot. "Mom, what are you doing?" The words were spoken before he could stop them from spilling out.
"What?" Her head snapped toward him. That hand continued to move. Looking at his face, she must have noticed his stare, because then she looked down. Her hand froze for a moment, then moved behind her in a blur. "Oh," the word barked out, but the rest of her sentence was more controlled, "I guess I'm just a little itchy." Her face flushed, and she didn't meet his eyes. She gave him a weak smile. "I'm sorry. Wasn't thinking."
Seeing how embarrassed she was, Stan let her off the hook with just a squint. "If we're all done, I'm going to watch some TV."
"Uh, sure. That's a good idea." She turned and headed down the hallway that led to her bedroom.
What's up? Stan wondered. She always says I watch too much TV.
Later, Mom joined him in the living room. Stan was watching The Slicker Club, a sitcom about a group of millennials struggling with their view of how their families should treat them. He found it only mildly amusing, but two of the actresses stimulated his imagination and libido as he fantasized how he would service them if given the opportunity. In his mind, they would come to amazing, life-changing orgasms because of his tongue, fingers, and cock. Today, he had managed to reward himself with a painful erection. When his mom came in, he had to shift his posture to ensure his hard-on wasn't visible.
"I don't know how you can watch this show." His mom sighed as she settled onto the far end of the couch. Dad's chair was the only other seating in the room, but neither used it much. To Stan, it felt like some sort of violation. Dad had been so insistent on no one else sitting in it. "I have it shaped to my ass. Don't go spoiling that." Twice, Stan had sat in it, bounced up and down, trying to erase that aspect of his father from the house. His mom wasn't the only one who had suffered.
Dad hadn't been cruel, more mean and demeaning, but Stan still maintained contact. He didn't miss him now that he wasn't here.
"It has its moments. Makes me laugh." Stan had to say something, so she didn't know his real reason. He would slink away to his bedroom and take care of his stimulation later. As they watched the antics on the screen, Stan heard his mom laughing, too.
She sat with her knees pulled up to her chest, her arms trapped between them. Feeling a vibration in the couch, Stan glanced toward her. Is she rubbing herself again? He was certain she was doing that with her elbow. She was focussed on the TV, but there was a strange look on her face. Stan thought she looked frightened, lonely.
"Are you alright, Mom?"
She jerked her head toward him as though she had forgotten he was in the room, and his words startled her. She sat up straight, lowering her feet to the floor, putting her hands on her thighs. "Yes. What do you mean?" Her words sounded strong, but her face was flushed. Stan knew she was embarrassed.
His concern overrode his own bashfulness, and he said, "Well, to tell the truth, that's not the first time I've seen you rubbing yourself down there. Are you itchy or something?" He did feel justified since she had commented a time or two when he had been giving himself a little attention when his junk needed scratching or was in an uncomfortable position.
She blossomed a darker shade of red and turned away from him. "I don't know what you mean." Then she paused a moment, staring at something on the far wall before turning back to him. Her face softened. "I don't know what's wrong with me." Tears welled in her eyes and her jaw quivered. Her next words came in a rush as though she was afraid if she didn't blurt them, they'd stick and never come out. "These past few days, I've found myself needing to rub against things." Her eyes grew wide, and her mouth pulled into an 'O' as though she'd shocked herself by speaking. "I can't talk about this with my son."
"Why not Mom. We've always been open with each other."
"But this is different. It's," again she paused, her eyes flicking here and there, then back at him, "you know." She glanced down, then up. "The sex thing." She hissed the words.
"We talk about sex all the time."
"But not like this."
"Because its you? Mom, if you're feeing horny. Its no big deal."
She cringed at his words as though he'd struck her. Is she this embarrassed to talk about her own sexual needs?
"Only partly that." She looked away before continuing. "It's never been so intense."
Stan sat up, leaned toward her. "How long has it been like that?"
"Oh, I don't know. A few days, I guess."
"Maybe its something to do with your new medication? You've been taking that these past few days. Right?"
"Do you think so?"
"Could be. Seems to me heard about it or read it somewhere." He considered his next words before giving them voice. "Why don't you just go rub one out? That's what I'd do." They had talked about things like this before, but it was always him dealing with his issues.
"You think I haven't tried that? Just leaves me feeling incomplete, worse."
"Hornier?" Stan struggled to keep a smile from creeping across his face. He wasn't finding this funny so much as he was feeling good about her being in the position he had been before. "Look, Mom. Maybe you need to find a boyfriend. Someone to help you with those issues."
"Are you kidding? I'm not ready for that. I don't have the energy for a relationship right now."
"Then how about a f..." He stopped himself before saying fuck. He was twenty, but still didn't swear in front of his mom. "Sex friend."
"A fuck buddy?" Again, her head snapped toward him. Stan was shocked. It was the first time he ever heard her use such a harsh word. "I could never use someone like that."
"Well, how about..." Again, Stan paused, weighing the wisdom of saying what he was thinking. "a vibrator?"
She gave him a quick glance, then giggled. "Wore the batteries out." She hid her face with a hand, peeked a smile around it.
"Mom. You dog." Stan laughed. He felt a closeness with her now that she was sharing a part of her, she never had before. "Well, how can I help? I can't think of anything else."
"Well." She paused, her eyes darting around again. Stan knew she was trying to say something but was uncertain if she should. In a small voice, she continued. "Maybe you could...," she flicked her eyes down.
It wasn't until her eyes moved back to him that Stan thought he understood. The idea was preposterous, but he had to find out for certain. "You want me to rub one out for you?"
"Well, just on the outside?" She bit her lower lip. "I think it might help, be enough." Then she stood up. "What am I saying? Of course not." She rushed toward her bedroom.
Stan rushed after her. "Wait Mom. I don't think that's so terrible." He'd only had a few moments to consider her proposal, but masturbating his mom, as she'd suggested, didn't seem any worse than giving her a back rub. "It really wouldn't be different from the back scratches you've given me a hundred times."
She paused, still in the living room but almost in the hallway. "You think so? You wouldn't think less of me?"
"Why would I do that? You are just a woman, feeling woman feelings. It wouldn't really be like sex or anything."
She turned around and, in that moment, Stan felt an erection building. He denied those feelings. This is my mom, but the pressure continued to build. It's just that I never get to really help her, that's all, he justified. I used to get boners sometimes when I was young, and mom bathed me. They didn't mean nothing, and neither does this.
"If you think it would help and not bother you." She moved back into the room.
Stan returned to the couch, and she followed him, sat down beside him. "How do we start?" she asked.
"How about like this?" Stan put his hand on her inner thigh. If she was going to back out, it would be now, and he wanted to give her that opportunity. He wanted to make sure she wasn't going to have any regrets.
She bit her lower lip and shifted her hips forward a bit. His hand was now pressing against her crotch. The erection pressed hard in his pants. Needing to adjust it to make it more comfortable, he shifted his weight onto one hip. He pressed his hand firmer against her.
"Maybe we shouldn't do this." Her voice was low, and she pulled away but remained on the couch.
"Mom. We're not doing anything wrong. Just scratching an itch." She relaxed, moved against his hand again.
"It does feel nice." She pressed against him.
"Alright. Good. Let me do this." He crammed the edge of his hand against her, his thumb pointing up her stomach, his fingers between her legs. She moaned, pressing back.
Stan moved his hand in and out, applying and releasing the pressure. She closed her eyes, lifted herself a little, making it easier for him to move his hand. Pushing down with his thumb as he lifted his hand, he pictured it stimulating her clitoris.
"Is that good, Mom?"
"Uh huh." She spoke from deep in her throat. "Call me Beth."
"What?"
"If we are going to do this, call me Beth." The words puffed out of her. "But only while we're doing it."
Ok, sure. Ah, Beth." Her name sounded funny on his tongue.
As though him speaking her name gave her some sort of permission, she moaned out a long, "Ahhh," grinding against his hand. She lifted herself up and down, her hips rocking. "Oh, yes. Put your arm in there."
Stan shifted so she was riding against his forearm. His cock was rock hard in his pants as he thought about what he was doing for his mother. He would take care of that issue later. For now, he needed to concentrate to bring her the relief she was looking for. Her thrusts became more urgent. He moved his arm in time with her grinding to put pressure on her clit. Her efforts grew more frantic, her breath rushing in and out in great pants.
And then she was pressing against him, her arms around his shoulders, her body turning more toward him. She tucked her head tight against his ceaseless "Yeses," hissing out of her. Shudders racked her, and she ground herself against him so hard it generated enough heat that it felt like an arm burn his father would sometimes give him. Is she orgasming? He wondered.
He looked at her face. She was sweating, her features tense and sharp. Her eyes were closed. He breath came in gasps. Yes, I'm pretty sure she is. And, with that thought, Stan felt a flood of emotion for this woman, and he was thankful he could help her reach this state of bliss.
"Oh, god, Stan." The words puffed in his ear. "That was intense. I hope you don't think poorly of me."
"Mom, I love you. I'm glad to help you out."
"Well, this goes beyond house chores." They both laughed. She continued to hold him, and he hugged her back. After a few minutes, he pulled his arm from between her legs. She held it for a moment, squeezing it with her thighs, then released it. "Are you okay with all this?" She sat back with a sigh.
"Totally. Let me know if you need it again."
She waved her hand in front of her face. "I think I'll be good for a while."
Stan stood, adjusting his clothes so his erection wouldn't show. He didn't want her to think he was a perv or a pig. "I got a few things to do."
She gave him a long glance, and he was afraid to move before she looked away. He noticed her eyes dropped to the front of his pants before flicking to one side. It was his turn to flush. He headed to his room.
For the next few days, Stan had a hard time not letting his memory of stimulating his mom creep into his thoughts. It was just a back scratch. He told himself over and over. That didn't work, and he found himself jerking off several times a day. You can't think about your mom like that, he thought when darker thoughts of his mom seeped into his fantasies. She's your mom.
Then he was in the living room again, watching his show, picturing his favourite actresses in various stages of undress. Then he noticed they both had his mom's face, her shape, it was her breasts he was gazing at, feeling, squeezing. Stop that, screamed in his head and the fantasy women returned to their younger selves.
"Stop what?" His mom was standing just inside the living room, behind him.
Glad the back of the couch was between them, hiding his stimulation, he looked at her. Had he spoken out loud? Must have. "Oh, just the show. They're so stupid."
She came into the room, stood near him. She sucked her lower lip into her mouth, twisted her body. Stan knew she wanted to say something but was shy.
"Has that urge come back, Mom?" Stan tried to make it sound as casual as possible.
She flushed, and he knew he was right. He felt himself break out in a light sweat and admitted he had been hoping for this.
"Is that ok?" She squinted at him.
"Sure, Mom. Er, Beth. Happy to." He sat himself up, straighter, pulling his ass deeper into the couch, making room for her.
Instead of sitting beside him as he'd expected, she straddled one of his legs. "Is this ok?"
"Sure, sure, ah, Beth. Whatever you like." He placed his hands on her knees, feeling nervous, uncertain how to proceed. He didn't need to. She began grinding her crotch against his thigh, pressing down. She sighed, closed her eyes. She moved slow, tipping her pelvis forward, then back as she slid closer, then away.
"Can I help more?" Uncertain what to do, he decided to just be direct.
"This feels so good." She steadied herself by placing her hands on his shoulders.
He rubbed her thighs, tracing his thumbs up the inside of her legs. After three slow rubs, he pressed his thumbs into her crotch, where he imagined the top of her vulva to be. He watched her face. Her head lay back, her mouth opening a little. She gasped. He pressed harder as her hips slid forward.
"Ah, yes," she hissed.
"You like that?"
Her head moved forward, and she smiled at him. "You know I do."
"More?"
"God, yes."
Stan moved his hand, placing the flat of his fingers against her crotch, sliding it toward her ass. His other hand moved behind her. He needed some leverage to press harder against her pussy. Her hips pressed back, grinding against his hand. He was fully aware how hard his cock was. She worked away at his hand and leg.
After a few minutes, a cramp developed in his fingers from their position and the effort he was putting into it. He shifted his hand to ease the muscles.
"I'm hurting you." She stood a bit, taking some of the pressure off his hand, but kept up the motion.
"It's ok, Beth."
"It's taking longer than last time."
"I don't think so. You want to try it that way? Along my arm?"
"No, that actually burned a bit. This feels nicer." She shifted back, ground herself against his knee. She gasped again, sliding down, then back up and over. On the next stroke, she worked her pelvis hard against his knee. "Ohhh."
Stan placed both hands on her ass, pressing when she pressed, relaxing when she moved back. As she continued to ride his leg, he slid his hands up her back, then down to her hips, up, then down to her buttocks. He felt her movement grow more urgent, firmer, quicker. He knew she was approaching climax, and he wanted to help her enjoy that more. He also became more aware of just how hard he was, how stimulated despite his not wanting to me.
When her breath was panting and her thrusts even more vigorous, uneven, he slid his hands up her back then around to her chest and he cupped her breasts.
"No," she moaned, then shivered, her hips rocking less, pressing more, grinding. She pressed tighter to him. "Yes, yes."
Her breasts felt soft, and he could feel the hard nubs of her nipples even through her bra. He gave them a little squeeze even though he felt guilt about feeling up his mom and liking it so much. She didn't have large breasts, but they were enough to fill his hands. He was overcome with an urge to slide his hands under her blouse, her bra, experience them completely, but caught himself before he moved. She's your mom.
Then her movements slowed, and she sagged against him. She was slick against him, where their skin touched, and he could feel the heat coming off her body. He dropped one hand to her crotch, massaged her there, easing her back to the real world. Whenever she exhaled, she made a sound like a cat purring. That made Stan feel good. Again, he'd helped his mom experience a release she really needed.
She hugged him tight, her pelvis hardly moving now as he continued to stroke it. "Mmmmm. That was good." She crooned into his ear. Her breath puffing against him sent vibrations through him.
"I'm glad you liked it."
"What about you?"
"What do you mean?"
As though emboldened now that they had shared this again, she slid her hand down and let it rest on his erection. "You think I couldn't feel that?"
"Mom,--" Stan started to protest but she his words off.
"You've brought me to orgasm twice now. I know it's leaving you with your own feelings. I want to help you."
"I can--,"
"You think I don't know what you've been doing in your room these past few days? It's obviously giving you about as much relief as my rubbing was giving me, or you wouldn't need to do it over and over. Let me help you." For emphasis, she squeezed his hard penis.
The sensations that rocketed through him made it impossible for him to speak. As though taking his silence as agreement, she squeezed him again, rubbed her hand along the length of him. He couldn't help but press back. It felt so good. Sweat broke out, cool on his forehead. Is Mom going to jerk me off?
She slid off his leg, cuddled beside him, her hand never leaving his crotch. "Oh, that's better," she sighed.
Her rubbing him felt good, but his clothing was rough against the tender skin of his cock. Swollen with blood as it was, it was extra sensitive. He must have winced, because she took her hand away.
"I'm hurting you." She held his eyes. Her hand returned to him, but not gripping it, just caressing. The feeling drove him craze and again, his hips thrust against her. "I know," she said, sitting up. "Let's get him out here, out of those tight pants."
Fear stabbed through Stan. She wants to see my cock? And when it's so hard? The thought both terrified and excited him. What if she laughs at me? She won't. You know you have a pretty good size dick. None of the girls have laughed. With that thought, when she reached for his belt buckle, he didn't resist.
She undid his pant's button, then pulled down his fly. He pulled back, making sure his junk didn't get rasped by the metal. Then she reached inside, under his briefs, and wrapped her fingers around his shaft. He sucked in a quick breath. It felt amazing. He was worried he might come right away. His cock throbbed, but held its load. She pulled him free of his pants.
A sudden surge of emotion rushed through him. He placed one hand on her hand that was gripping him. "I this right?"
"What? Me feeling you? You felt me up."
"Oh, yeah." He smiled, remembering how she'd felt as his hands slipped around her body. "But that was through your clothes. This is real." He pointed down and her eyes followed.
"Sure is. And nicely real." She gave him a firm squeeze, waggled it a little. The motion resulted in a hard contraction in his cock. He worried again that he was going to cum too quick. "You got a nice penis, Stan." Then she started stroking him and that became the only thing in his world.
After a few minutes, his breathing growing deeper and deeper as the sensations washed through him, she paused. "It's a bit rough. We need some lotion. Have any?"
Stan's mind tried to grip what she was saying. After a moment, he focussed. Lubricant, she's asking about lubricant. He had some, but it was in his room, and he didn't want her to stop. He lied, "No. Maybe just spit on it."
"Spit?" A shocked look flashed on her face. "That's gross." Then her eyes brightened. "How about this then?" and she lowered her head, taking his cock in her mouth to slick it with her saliva without spitting on it. Her movement was so quick that Stan couldn't react before she'd encompassed his dick. The feeling was incredible, mind shattering, and then he was cumming. He couldn't stop, it was so sudden. Oh, no. I'm cumming in my mom's mouth.
She must have been surprised because her head jerked up, releasing him, but then she put it back down, sucking on him again. Her tongue rubbed the length of his shaft as her throat worked to swallow what he was spewing. Stan felt horror at what he was doing but couldn't stop himself from holding her head, thrusting into her, jetting his hot semen into her. He couldn't speak, just moan as he unloaded again and again in the most intense orgasm he had ever experienced. She continued to suck him until he guided her head up.
"It's done," he said.
Wiping at the edges of her mouth with a pinky, she smiled at him. "I admit, that was a bit unexpected and not what I was intending, but I think you enjoyed it, and that's what I wanted." She continued to hold him with one hand as though it was a snake that might escape.
"That was incredible, Mom, Beth."
"I'm glad, son, Stan." They both laughed.
Stan leaned forward, put one hand behind her head, pulled her close and gave her a tongue-filled kiss, his jaw working. She kissed him back, but only for a moment. Then she jerked her head back, pushed him away. "It can't be like that."
"I know. I'm sorry. You just made me feel so incredible."
"We've crossed a bit of a line and we need to be careful about what we do. I'm okay with," she took his hand and pressed it against her crotch, "and maybe even," she moved her hand to her breast, "but maybe not," she moved her other hand back and forth near her mouth, pressing her cheek out with her tongue. She stroked his balls, rattled her fingernails against his pubic hair.
"I understand. If we keep it realistic, we will always have each other. Let me know when you want another session. That's what we can call it, our sessions."
"Remembering how you felt in my mouth, tasted, knowing how I made you feel good, our next session may not be too far away."
"Alright, Mom. And don't forget to keep taking your pills."Stan looked up when he heard his mother enter the living room. The expression on her face told him she had been taking her medication and that it was having the same side-effect on her. There was pure desire etched in her features.
"Needing another session?" he asked, setting aside the book he'd been reading.
"Do you mind?" She bit her thumbnail and waggled her body back and forth like a young girl asking for candy. In a way, she was asking her son to bring her to sweet release of the sexual energy her anxiety prescription was leaving her with.
"Of course not, Mom, er Beth." Stan sat forward, adjusting his posture for the activity that was to come. She insisted he call her by her first name when they were having one of their 'dry humping' sessions. Stan still wasn't comfortable with this, but it seemed to ease her mind regarding what they were doing. Not really incest, she would rub herself on his leg or have him rub her crotch with his hand or arm, effectively masturbating her to climax. As there was no skin to skin contact and certainly no penile penetration, she was content with their arrangement.
The trouble was, Stan was having a more difficult time keeping incestuous thoughts from creeping into his head with each session.
He held his hands apart, indicating he was ready for her, so she stepped forward and straddled his leg. While she began rocking back and forth, sliding along his thigh, he gripped her by the hips, steadying her, guiding her. Beth closed her eyes, lost in her own fantasy as her body worked toward sexual release.
The feel of her contact with him was pleasant but the feelings it raised in Stan, gave him concern. They'd had four of these sessions since their first one where she'd given him an unintended blow job, him ejaculating in her mouth when she had been trying to lubricate his penis while masturbating him. It was the only skin-on-skin activity they'd undertaken. Since then, he'd had to find his own release. He didn't mind, but thinking about his mom stimulating herself on his body was stimulating him despite his efforts to remain impartial. He'd noticed too, that she was taking longer to reach climax. Was she becoming less sensitive to their sessions? He had an idea on how to reignite her passion that he planned on springing on her.
Stan's cock grew hard as he thought about what he was going to do. To help his mom, he let his hands roam to her buttocks, kneading her nicely shaped ass, guiding, coaxing her as she rode his leg. She arched her back, her hands locked behind his head, using him for support. He slid his hands up her back, massaging her, encouraging. As he had done before, he let his hands wander to her breasts, feeling her up through her t-shirt and bra. Struggling to keep away thoughts of her being nude, doing more than humping his leg, Stan's erection grew, becoming painful, restrained as it was in his pants. How he wanted it to be free, for her to caress him again.
Her breath deepened, the moans she was releasing, becoming guttural, low in her throat. At the same time, her rocking grew more intense, her mouth opening and closing. It's now or never, Stan thought, then slid his hands down to her waist where he tucked them under the hem of her top, then up her stomach and under her bra. For the first time, he held her bare breasts in his hands, nothing between them except the sweat on his palms. Her nipples were rock hard, standing stiff against his fingers. He squeezed them, coaxing a long moaning sigh from her. Then she stopped.
"We agreed," she looked at him with the same firm eyes she'd used to hold him accountable when he was a mere child, "no skin."
"No," he said, having prepared for this argument. If he was going to have to jerk off later because she was horny now, he wanted some concrete, and solid memories to think of while he was doing it. Her b-cup sized tits with their expressive nipples would give him enough stimulation for several sessions with his hand. "You said no," and then he mimicked the jabbing fist by his face, pumping his tongue against his cheek in the well-known pantomime of a blow job.
She gave him a shocked look, stopping her motion on his thigh, for a few brief moments. Then the rocking started again as she gave him a shy smile. She blushed. "You remember everything."
Stan took encouragement from the fact she hadn't moved away from his hands. He kept on feeling her up. She actually pressed herself tighter against him. "I'm so selfish, I've forgotten that what my doing this must be doing to you. You're horny for your mom?"
Stammering, Stan responded, "No, no, not horny for you Mom. That would be perverted. But I will admit it's making my penis hard." He felt silly saying 'penis' but how could he say cock to his mom?
"Alright then, not horny for your mom, but how about horny for Beth?" With that, she put her hands on his hands, crushing them against her bosom. "I'll admit that Stan doing this makes me horny." As though her admission released something that was inhibiting her, she pressed her crotch even harder, faster against his leg. "Oh god," she moaned, "squeeze me Stan, make me cum." Then she couldn't speak, just moan and pant as her motions grew even more frantic, intense. Stan dropped one hand and began rubbing her crotch, where he imagined her clitoris was.
"It's time for Beth to blast off," he whispered, his own breath coming deep, fast. His other hand squeezed her breasts, scrabbling at them as though trying to find a handhold.
Her back arched and her thrusts grew longer, more urgent. "Yes Stan, yes Stan, I'm taking off." Then her head was against his neck, her breath hot, wheezing. Quiet "Yeses," streaming out of her. A minute later, she collapsed against him. Sweat streamed down her face, dampened his shirt. He became aware how painful his erection was. She had it pinched against his leg.
He held her, finally removing his hand from her tit, returning to rubbing her back. He ran one hand down her ass, along the middle seam of her jeans, between her legs, pressing against her vagina. "Ohhhh, yes, that's nice," she crooned. The vibration from her words against his throat sent shivers through him.
Shifting his weight to ease the discomfort of his dick, Stan moved his hips side to side, walking his ass back. "You're uncomfortable." His mother's head came off his shoulder.
"It's ok, Mom. I'm fine." He didn't want her to move, felt closer to her than he had before.
"But you're a man and I know this must be making you feel," she paused a moment, "uncomfortable." She finished with a sigh, looking down at him, holding his eyes before looking at his crotch.
"Mom," Stan sing-songed. He knew he was acting offended, knew he really wanted her to do something about his erection. He thought again about when she'd masturbated him to climax. He couldn't stop his hips from rising an inch, lifting her, then letting her settle.
"We can do that," she announced, and Stan wondered what she was talking about.
"What?" he asked.
"I've been dry humping you. I think it's only fair you get to hump me." She stood, then sat on the couch, laying back against the arm, letting her knees fall apart. "Climb on Stan, let's rub, crotch to crotch. You need some relief."
Feeling uneasy, but feeling super horny too, Stan crawled on top of his mother. She wrapped her arms around him, squeezed him with her thighs as he settled his cock against her crotch. Her hips rocked, rubbing him. A sigh squeezed out of her as he let his weight bear down on her.
"I'm not too heavy?"
"You are fine. Let's do this." There was a hint of annoyance in her voice.
Stan nuzzled against her neck, began to grind against her. Shivers ran up and down his body. He couldn't believe how nice this felt. He pressed harder. The two of them worked their bodies against each other. Sweat broke out on Stan's back, heat rose where his penis rubbed against his mom. She locked her legs around him. He knew what his father had experienced when he was fucking his wife.
Beth's pelvis speeded up, rocked more, as though trying to scoop its way through Stan. Stan timed his thrusts to her movements, intensifying the friction, the feelings. His cock felt trapped, wanting to be free of the confines of his clothes. Too, it was getting warm where they were rubbing. It grew hotter as their movements became more frantic.
Stan shifted his weight, lifting himself with one arm. That eased the pressure on his crotch but didn't relieve the heat they were generating. With his free hand he massaged his mom's tits. She stared into his eyes, a smile encouraging him, her head nodding. Then he felt the gathering in his balls.
"I'm going to cum, Mom, Beth. Are you ready?"
She didn't speak, just nodded her head with a bit more vigor, her face set tight. Stan reached down, rubbed her crotch where he thought her clitoris was, pressing his cock against his hand. The pressure in his balls, the base of his penis grew, convulsions tore through his genitals. Gasping, thrusting, rocking, he dug his cock hard against his mother.
Beth's heels pulled at the back of his legs, her crotch working up and down against him. Her body stiffened under his hand and low moans snuck out of her throat.
"Yes Beth," he whispered. "Cum. Cum for me." And then she was intense, pulling at him, rubbing her fingers through his hair, grasping at the back of his neck. She shuddered, laying her head tight against his throat. Their movements became less frantic, slowed until they were just cuddling.
"That was good Beth," Stan hissed. "Thank you."
"Only good?" She pulled her head away. "We'll have to try something else then. You made me feel fantastic. Both times."
Not wanting her to feel disappointed, he tried to elaborate. "I didn't mean just good. It was very satisfying. I am feeling a bit uncomfortable though, damp in my pants if you know what I mean."
Smiling at him, she held the fingertips of one hand to her lips. "Yes, I guess you would. If I was to confess, it would have to be the same thing. Maybe we should clean ourselves up."
With a final hug, she let him go and he escaped to his room. Closing the door, resting his back against it, he closed his eyes. He was excited thinking about his hands on her breasts. Cumming while rubbing on her had been a bit painful, but still pleasurable. He felt himself stiffening again. The head of his cock was sensitive from its vigorous activity and his underwear felt rough against it. Undoing his pants, letting them drop to the floor, he pulled his shorts down, letting his dick swing free.
He followed it across the room, into his bathroom. Maybe a nice jack-off in the shower would help settle things down. At least he'd have a bit of lubricant from the soap.
Later, he sat on his bed, trying to read an article on boating in choppy waters. Three times he'd started to turn the page, only to realize he had no idea what he'd just read. His mind was on his mom. His session in the shower had been great, ending with jets of semen splashing onto the clear plastic curtain. He wondered how his body could produce so much. He'd been thinking about his mom while stroking himself, but he wasn't dry-humping her in his fantasy. She'd shed all her clothes, guided his cock into her thrumming pussy, slick with lady juices, hot and inviting. He was getting another stiffy, reliving the experience.
A knock at his door, then the knob turned. It opened a crack. "Stan, can I come in?"
"Sure Mom." He bent one knee so there would be no evidence of his woody. Just in case, he let the magazine rest against his crotch. He tried to look casual as she stepped through the door. She was wearing her bath robe, a towel wrapped around her head. "What's up?" he asked.
"I'm feeling kind of bad for you." She took two short steps past the door then stopped. Holding her chin in one hand, Stan knew she was having a hard time saying what she'd come in for.
"What's it about Mom? Just say it."
"Well, I came in a short while ago to see how you were doing." She turned, flicked a hand behind her as she spoke, "The door was open, so I just came in."
Stan gulped, knowing what was coming next. He hadn't closed the bathroom door all the way while showering.
"I didn't mean to, but I saw you in the shower." She gave him a quick smile then her face turned firm again. "I didn't stay and watch. When I realized what was happening, I left."
"Ok, Mom. You saw me jerking it. No big deal."
"But, when we have our sessions, you leave me satisfied. I don't have to go off and do that for myself. I think you deserve that too." She paused a moment then asked, the words coming out in a rush, "Wasn't humping me enough?"
Stan sighed. "Mom, doing that with you was great, but it felt confined, like I couldn't fully enjoy it. I don't know if I'm saying this right, don't even know if I understand it, but it was like I kind of had to hold back. You know? It wasn't the same as when you, you know," he made the blow job action.
Beth thought about that for a moment. "Oh, I think I get it. Your junk all bundled up in your pants got in the way of full release."
"Yeah, I guess. Maybe 'cause this is all pretty new too, my system is in hormone overload mode." They both laughed at that.
"You want me to masturbate you again? Will that help." She reached toward him, and Stan understood how much she wanted the enjoyment of their sessions to be mutual.
"No, no, at least not right now. He's actually a little bit sore at the moment." Stan crossed his wrists over his dick. "Let's talk about this again at your next session."
Beth nodded her head in an exaggerated way and took a step backward. "Oh, yeah, sure. That's a good idea."
Then Stan was alone in his room again with a magazine he couldn't concentrate on because his mind was churning over possibilities about his mother.
A couple of days later Stan opened the fridge. He was feeling a bit hungry but had no idea what he wanted to eat.
"Don't spoil your appetite," his mom spoke from the nook table where she was sipping a cup of tea. "We're having pork chops tonight."
"I saw them thawing in the sink. Good choice."
"How's Mr. Happy?" Beth set her cup on its plate with a light clink of china.
"Who?" Stan turned to look at her. When she looked from his eyes to the front of his pants, he understood. "Oh, him." He felt heat in his face and knew he was blushing. "If you need a session, Beth, he's up for it." Realizing what he'd said, he stammered, "Not up, like that." He couldn't help smiling through his embarrassment. "You know what I mean."
"I'm not feeling urgent, but since our talk the other day, I've been wondering how you're doing."
"I'm ok." He stood there looking at her, feeling foolish because he didn't know what else to say. He'd been thinking a lot about her, fantasizing, trying to hold in his emotions but had done a poor job of that. He'd wondered how and what they'd talk about when they approached the topic and now that it was here, he was feeling overwhelmed.
"Have you thought about what we talked about?"
"Yeah, a little." Stan knew that was the understatement of the year, he'd done nothing but think about it.
"And what do you think?"
"About your next session?" Hoping to get off the hook without saying what he was really feeling, Stan added, "We can do it any time."
"You know that's not what I'm asking. I already know you're willing to help me whenever I want. The question is how are we going to do it so you feel," she paused, her eyes moving around the room as she considered her words, "attended to, as well."
This was the hard part. How could he tell his mom how she could satisfy him sexually? He wanted to see her naked, all of her. He wanted to touch her, run his hands over her body, into it. He wanted her doing the same to him, rubbing with her hands, her mouth, her other parts. His memory of her mouth on his penis still brought him an erection. He wanted that experience again. If he told her that though, she'd think he was a pervert, would probably end their sessions. Then he had a thought. Could he bring her there a little at a time? He'd gotten her to let him feel her tits.
"Well, yeah," he thought if he got a few words out, more would follow. "Humping you felt good, but with my pants on, well, you already know it wasn't the greatest." He paused, hoping she'd say the next thing, deepen the conversation, but she just sat there looking at him. "But," he stammered again, "that first time, when you, you know, rubbed me with your hand..."
"You mean the skin to skin?"
"Yeah, the skin thing. That was pretty nice."
"But it hurt you too. That's why the whole mouth thing happened, and we know how that turned out."
"Yeah," Stan couldn't help but smile at the memory. Too, he realized he was hard in his pants.
"Well, that ain't happening again."
"I know, that's not what I was suggesting." Mike wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, moved his legs trying to get his boner to subside. "If we use some hand cream or something, that should be good."
"So, if I masturbate you using lubricant, you think that'll give you the best relief."
Stan chuffed. He found it funny, his mom using sex words. She said it casual as though masturbate was a word in any conversation.
"I'm willing to give it a try." He sighed. "It might be better if I can feel your breasts at the same time." He knew he was pushing little ideas at her, getting her comfortable with them. There was a bigger idea he wanted her to accept.
"Well, I guess I can be ok with that although I don't know why you like these old things so much." She pushed her tits up with her hands.
"Mom, Beth," Stan felt his voice rise. "They're not old. You're not old. Actually, you have a pretty nice rack. At least as far as I know."
"Really?" She waved her chest back and forth, pushing it up and out. "You think so?"
That was what Stan had been hoping she'd ask as it opened the door for his real desire. "Well, I guess so. I can't be certain because I've only felt them. I've never seen them."
She stopped moving, dropped her hands and stared at him. "And what would you compare them to?" When Stan only blushed, she continued, "Just how many boobs have you seen?"
"I'd never kiss and tell, but maybe a few."
"Young ones? Girls you've dated?"
"Mom, we're not having that conversation. Can you be happy that, from my limited experience, I think you have a sexy body?"
Beth looked down at herself, put her hands on her hips, then one hand to her belly. Stan knew he'd said the right thing, the best thing to encourage her. "You're not just saying that because I'm your mom?"
"Beth, you have a nice body." Stan stared at her. His eyes flicked between her face, her breasts, her crotch. His dick stiffened.
She stared at his face, making him feel uncomfortable. Had he said the wrong thing? A moment later, he knew he hadn't.
"Speaking of old age," a smirk appeared on Beth's face, "I see a little hardening of the artery." She was staring at Stan's crotch. He crossed his hands in front of himself, felt his face flushing. "Kind of makes me horny too but, that might just be the medication. Regardless, get that bad boy out while I go get some lotion."
"Mom--," Stan started to protest but she cut him off.
"Beth, and," she stripped her top off, reached behind her to undo the bra strap while she walked away, "do you really want to argue with me?"
By the time she returned, Stan had moved into the living room and removed his pants and boxer shorts. Still feeling awkward, he sat with his hands over his erection. When he saw her breasts jiggling free as she walked, a surge of desire erupted in his midsection.
Beth paused when she saw him. "I didn't think he was so big, but then, with your hands in the way, its hard to see. Why don't you relax." She gave her chest a little wave. "I have." She showed him the tube of lotion she'd brought. "Ready for this? I know I am." She pressed a hand to her crotch. "How shall we do this?"Unable to take his eyes off her bare breasts, Stan fumbled with his thoughts. What was she asking? Didn't she know how to jerk him off? Of course she did, she'd done it before. Oh, she wants me to rub her while she rubs me. Yeah, how to make that work. He really just wanted to feel her tits. He moved his hands, letting his cock pop free. Another surge of desire blasted through him knowing his mom was looking at his dick.
"Uh, maybe I'll lay down, you sit on my stomach. I should be able to reach around you and rub you." He adjusted his position aware of his erection waggling around. She straddled him, twisting the cap off the tube.
Reaching up, Stan placed his hands on her breasts. He felt his cock stiffen more, bounce, throb.
"Doesn't look as though you need any more stimulation." Beth peaked at him then turned forward again. She squeezed lubricant into her hand, smeared it onto his cock. Stan gasped in a breath.
"Cold?" she asked.
"No, no. Just feels great." Stan couldn't believe how incredible it felt to have her hands caressing him. He slipped his hands down her body, to her crotch, worked his fingers to stimulate her.
"Mmm, that's nice," she crooned. Her hands slid up and down his shaft, massaged the head, slick with the lubricant. Stan grew concerned he would cum too soon. He wanted the sensations to last.
He shifted a bit, moved one hand under her buttocks, reached under her to rub her pussy. He wished her pants weren't in the way, they made it more difficult, probably reduced her stimulation as well. There wasn't anything he could do about that, so he concentrated on being as attentive as he could. That helped reduce the feelings of what she was doing to him. He felt his hips pressing up in time with her hands pressing down. The sound of the lubricant snapping was erotic for some reason.
They worked at each other for a while, giving soft grunts and moans, hinting at the sensations they were experiencing. Twice, Stan had her lay back even though that meant she had to stop masturbating him. It allowed him to work at her pussy easier, better. Her breathing deepened, sweat broke out on her neck, along her back, so he knew she was enjoying it.
When she sat back up, gripping him again, it was as intense a feeling as the first time she put hands on his cock. Stan felt the building pressure in his balls, knew he was going to cum. He didn't think she was close to that level yet, but thought, if he finished, he could give her better attention.
"Beth, I'm going to cum," he warned her. "Is that ok?"
"Of course, it is." She peaked back at him again, her smile exposing her teeth. "That's why we're here."
"But what about you." The words puffed out of Stan, he was almost there.
"Doesn't mean we have to stop."
And then Stan blasted semen. Beth wrapped her hand around the head of his dick to catch it, keep it from spattering everywhere. His hips pumped up and down, surges of cum spewing out of him. It was an incredible feeling, so much more intense and satisfying than cumming in his pants. She continued to rub him. Long, slow, strokes, squeezing the head of his penis, gentle. She crooned to him, "That's it. Give it all to me," until the waves of pleasure pulsing through him grew less intense.
He lay spent, the afterglow lulling his body. His eyes grew heavy.
"How was that?" Her question roused him from his stupor.
"That was amazing. Incredible."
"That's how it should be. I feel good about helping you experience that."
"Now its your turn." Stan struggled to adjust his position. "Lay back again. I can get at you better that way."
She lay back on his chest and he put one hand back to her pussy. The other went to her breasts. "Do you like this?" he asked.
"Very much." She placed a hand on his that was kneading her boob. Pressed him, guided him to slower motions. "Mmm, yes, like that."
He kept working at her, switching hands, trying to bring her to an orgasm like she'd given him. After a while she sighed, "Something's just not quite right. I love what you're doing to me but, I can't seem to get there."
Stan had an idea. "Do you trust me?" he asked.
"Yes," she said with uncertainty in her voice.
"Good." With that, he slipped one hand down the front of her pants, under her panty, over her pubic hair and into the moistness of her vagina.
She gasped, one hand gripping his arm. Stan was certain she was going to make him stop, and he would if she did, but then she relaxed. Her hips pumped with renewed energy. She made a sound, low in her throat, like a cat purring. Stan worked his fingers in and out of her pussy, slick and warm and exciting. I'm really masturbating my mom, ricocheted in his brain.
Shivers coursed through her body with such intensity that Stan could feel them where she lay against him. Her pussy worked on his hand, rubbing, pumping, grinding against his fingers. She uttered little squeals while she convulsed. Stan had to grip her chest to keep her from thrashing right off him, off the couch. He held her like that, his pussy hand still working in and out of her, slow, like when she'd brought him down from his orgasm. Then she moaned and renewed thrashing. Stan intensified his fingering her, letting her clitoris rub on the edge of his hand. She pumped and pumped against him, now sopping with sweat, tremors racking through her.
After a full minute, she began to slow. She gasped for air, her breath whooshing in and out.
"Wow," she finally spoke. "That was unexpected, but so wonderful." She cupped his face with one hand, turned her head and made a kissing motion. Her pelvis continued to rock against his hand, slow, gentle. He stayed, massaging her until she moved.
Twisting, raising herself on one elbow she looked at him. "Thanks for that Stan. It was amazing." She slapped at him in a playful manner, light, more just brushing him with her fingertips. "We better get cleaned up."
Then she was up, gone. Stan lay there, an arm across his forehead, savoring the lingering aftereffects of their sex. Was that really sex? Had he just had sex with his mom? Well, they hadn't been fucking, but it was a sexual experience. Giving up on trying to categorize it, Stan just settled for having enjoyed it. He headed for a shower of his own, wondering what their next session might bring. "Stan," his mom called through the house. "I'm heading into town. Do you need anything?"
"Where you going?" He looked up from the sketch he was working on at his desk. He'd started doing erotic drawings and this one was a dragon and a female warrior. The dragon's tail was embedded in the muscular woman's pussy. The look on her face was supposed to be ecstasy, but it looked more like a grimace. He'd erased it four times already but couldn't get it just right.
"The drug store, but I can stop other places too."
"You refilling your anxiety medication?" Stan couldn't help but smile. He and his mom had been engaging in regular sexual sessions because her meds were stimulating her libido. She needed the effect of the drug and Stan had really started enjoying its side effect. They were being careful about the whole incest thing, so he hadn't screwed his mom, but he'd been doing it a lot lately in his fantasies. Maybe she'd need another of her 'special' sessions after she returned.
Gripping the boner he'd sprouted while drawing, the warrior looked a lot like his mom; he didn't want her delaying in town. "No, I'm good."
"I shouldn't be long." He heard the door snick closed. A minute later, their car engine rumbled to life. Stan went back to his sketch.
"Is that me?" Mom's voice startled Stan. He'd been so focussed on his drawing, that he didn't hear her return.
Startled, he jerked, covered the drawing with his arms. He was glad she hadn't returned while he was squeezing the erection he still had. He wasn't comfortable sharing his art, especially since he knew it was his mom on the paper. She was in a rather provocative position.
"Hey," his mother tried to move his hands, but he resisted. "Did you give me stretch marks?"
"Mom," Stan heard the plead in his voice, hating the whinny sound of it. "No one said it's you."
"It sure looks like me. You are a talented artist, why would you include those ugly things?"
"There is nothing ugly about you. You are a wonderful woman and person. Besides, maybe you just saw some shading."
"I know stretch marks when I see them. I've looked at them for more than twenty years now."
"And that's why they aren't ugly. I know your breasts grew when you were pregnant with me. That happens to pretty much all women. The skin can't keep up and so some of it breaks up a little, leaving what I call 'love scars." Stan reached out, placed his fingers alongside his mother's breasts, supported them. "You did that for me, and that is a beautiful thing. Kind of a tattoo of our first bonding. That's why they are beautiful."
"Awe, Stan," he loved how her voice changed, the tilt of her head, the tears welling in her eyes. He knew he'd chosen the right words, the right sentiment, to help her feel better about herself. The nicest part was, he really felt this way, was so thankful for what she'd endured in order to be his mom.
Before this mom-son moment could slide into a bawling fest, he asked, "Get your pills ok?"
"Yeah, no big deal." She gave him a strange, out of the side of her eyes look.
"That's great." He was uncertain what else to say. He knew what was on his mind but couldn't blurt it out.
"Are you wondering if I need a session?" A smile blossomed, making small creases around her eyes, mouth.
Stan stuttered, flustered, it was exactly what he was thinking, hoping. Imagining himself as the dragon, ravaging the warrior princess on the page, left him feeling pretty horny, but, of course, only if her needs were being met. Instead of responding, he just stared at her, letting her make the first move.
"You have grown to know me so well." She pulled her t-shirt over her head then reached behind her back to undo her bra.
"Let me do that." Stan reached for her, pulled her forward by the hips, hugged her. He didn't want this to go fast. There was something to be said about savouring these moments, he knew their sessions weren't going to go on forever. She'd find another man, move on from him. He wanted that for her but, he reached up to the clasp, he wanted this for himself right now.
As her bra popped over her breasts, Stan reached around her, gripped them, hugged her close, pressing his face to her head. She raised her hands to his. When his hug loosened, she twisted in his arms.
"Let's see if we can scratch your itch, Beth." Stan leaned in and gave her a long, lingering, tongue-filled kiss. She responded back, pressing her pelvis against him, pulling his head tight to hers. She gave one of her little purrs that vibrated through him, right down to his stiff dick.
Pulling his t-shirt over his head, Stan stepped back, sat on his bed so she could straddle his leg. After a few minutes of her grinding on him, while he played with her tits, coaxing their nipples to full erection, she said, "This isn't as intense as it used to be."
"What would you like to try?" Stan flicked through a thousand fantasy images, many of them with his dragon tail impaling her pussy, but he held back from giving any voice. These sessions were for her. The fact that she wasn't fully satisfied until he was, was gravy.
"Can you lay on me? I like that."
They reversed positions, her pushing herself back on his bed, spreading her legs so he could press his crotch to hers. Stan dry humped her. It was nice but didn't stimulate him very much. Something must have showed on his face because she said, "You don't like this."
"Do you?" He kept rocking his pelvis against her, trying to run his cock along her vagina, but with so many layers of cloth between them, it was difficult to tell. Too, the head of his penis was constrained by the waistband of his boxers and, if he wasn't careful, it hurt. He didn't want her to know that though.
"Well, its nice, makes me feel close to you but, from a sexual point of view, I don't think I'll get the relief this is supposed to bring. Would you mind using your hand?"
"Sure Beth, your wish..." He rolled off her, moved his hand to her thigh, began rubbing, pressing, squeezing. Her hips rocked against him. "Like that?"
"Yes," she panted.
Stan continued, trying to vary his pace, pressure, angle, to give her the most enjoyment. He placed his thumb where he imagined her clitoris to be and ground down with it. Her breath panted, grew deeper. He felt moisture seep through her pants.
After a few minutes, she pushed his hand away. Sweat stood in beads on her forehead, in the fine hairs of her eyebrows. Her breasts had grown slick, and Stan felt them up, sliding his hand over them, relishing the silky feel.
"You're not done," he stated in a flat voice. He knew what her orgasms looked and felt like and she hadn't had one. Why was she stopping him.
"No, not yet, but..." She bit her lower lip, flicked her eyes to his face then away.
"What mom, er Beth, just tell me. Anything." He knew she wanted something but was nervous to ask.
"Would you," again she paused, and frustration bubbled up in Stan. He pushed it down, calmed himself. "With your hand." Her eyes flicked down to her crotch.
"I was." Stan was confused.
"I mean, inside."
Then it blossomed in his mind, she wanted his hand in her pants. He'd done that last time and she'd responded with a quick and massive orgasm. He'd used the memory of the feel of her juices, the roughness of her pubic hair, the softness of her slick vagina to feed a perpetual stream of fantasy images. Now she was asking him to do that again. Sometimes it was so easy to be a good son.
"Sure Beth, I'd be happy to." Happy was such an understatement of the sensations rocketing through his cock. It was pressing so hard in his pants he was certain it was going to tear through the material. Struggling to keep his hands from shaking, he undid the button of her trousers, loosened the fly then slid his hand inside.
Beth gasped. Her legs spread wider. Her hips moved, encouraging his fingers to find her, slide inside. She shuddered.
In his mind Stan screamed. 'No, don't cum yet.' Even though that event would lead to her working on him until he ejaculated, he wanted this session to last longer. The feel of her pussy, the heat, the slick, was so erotic, he didn't want it to end too quick. He wanted to savor this like a perfect steak, a fine wine, an imported beer.
Shifting his weight onto his hip, he changed the angle of his hand in her pants to reduce her stimulation, hopefully. She wiggled her butt over and Stan surmised she was searching for maximum effect. Whatever, she was getting hot down there. He slid his fingers in and out, slow, deep, feeling the muscles of her vagina grip at him. It felt like it was trying to draw his hand in, eat him up. That gave him an idea.
Propped as he was on his hip and elbow, it was difficult for him to rub her breasts while masturbating her. He got up on his knees. That made things easier, but still not good.
"Beth, can I take your pants off" My hand is cramping."
Her eyes shot open, wide. "No. I don't think that would be appropriate."
His mind scrambling, he suggested, "If you're nervous about me seeing you naked, we can leave your panties on." He paused a moment so she wouldn't feel pressured. "You've seen me naked enough. I'm not certain why you feel that way. It's ok though, with your panties on, I will still be able to work easier."
"Oh, don't stop what you're doing." Using one hand, she encouraged him to keep manipulating her.
"I just think it'll be better for you, like when I finally took my pants off. Freer."
"But it's my cooch." She scrunched her face, placed a hand over her crotch as though blocking his view of it.
"Mom, Beth, I have my hand in your cooch." He gave it a little wiggle for emphasis. They both laughed and Stan knew he was convincing her. Now he pressed it. "Besides, I thought we might try something, and clothes will just be in the way."
Scooting her butt away from him, twisting to the side, she pulled herself off his hand. He held that hand up, rubbing his fingers. "See how slippery this is?" Her face reddened. "Don't be embarrassed, I love how you respond to me, but I was thinking, if we use some lubricant, we can rub against each other, stimulate each other that way.
"I'll have to think about that, but I guess it'll be ok if you remove my pants, just the pants, and get back to having your hand in my cooch."
Stan was happy to comply. With her pants out of the way, it was much easier to masturbate her. Able to now access her via the waistband and through the leg holes, the cramps in his hand were banished and he was able to bring her to a body-convulsing climax through a series of intense fingerings and gentle stimulations. When she came, her pelvis thrusts grew urgent, frantic, almost violent. Her purrs and murmurs escalated to grunts and moans and one final screech. That response was so intense, Stan had to look to her face to ensure he wasn't hurting her. In that moment, he saw the look he wanted to capture in his drawing. He tried to commit it to memory.
After five minutes while Stan became gentle, nurturing, bringing her back to earth, her breathing settled, her heart rate slowed. She placed a hand on his, where he was cupping her crotch. He looked at her when she spoke.
"Now you." She moved her hand to his crotch. "Oh, you really need some attention." Her eyebrows raised and a smile curled into her lips.
Stan knew this was the time to press the issue he'd raised. "But I'm not done with you yet Beth."
"You have more for me?"
"But of course." He smiled, slipping a finger into her vagina. He felt a rush of juices and knew she was being aroused again. "However, you have to agree," he snapped the elastic of her panties, "these gotta go."
"Oh, the lubricant idea." Her eyes darted around the room. Stan knew she was uncertain, nervous, but the growing heat around his hand told him the thought excited her too.
"I'm not certain your hesitation. We're not screwing, just doing what we've been doing, just a little different. Kind of spicing it up."
"If I say yes now, can I say no if I feel too uncomfortable?" Her voice was low, and Stan realized how vulnerable she felt.
"Absolutely, Beth. That goes for both of us, right?"
"Ok, then." She drew the words out then reached for her undies.
"No." Stan stopped her. "Let me do that."
"Okay, but you first." She waggled a finger toward the pants he still wore.
Stan stood, then undid his pants, moving slow, watching her watch him. First his belt, then the snap on his jeans, then the fly, letting each tooth click before pulling down, past the next one.
"Will you hurry up?" Beth propped herself up on one elbow, squeezing her thighs together. Stan smiled, knowing he was teasing her, and she was enjoying it. His knees weakened as a rush of desire coursed through him.
With his fly all the way down, Stan hooked his thumb into the waistband of his underwear, pulled it down until the hair rasping against his thumb told him his pubes were now exposed. "Are you sure you want me to continue?"
"You little bugger." His mother sat up, a grin breaking on her face. "Get that thing out here."
Grinning wide, Stan yanked his pants down, freeing his erection. A shudder surged through him knowing his mother was seeing him nude. "Your turn," he leaned over her and slid her panties off.
Before he got a good look, she pulled one knee up, crossing it over her other leg. "Don't be shy," he encouraged her, gripping her ankles. "Let Stanny see where he came from."
A look crossed her face and Stan knew he'd said the wrong thing. She'd called him 'Stanny' when he was a young child, until he'd insisted she stop. Afraid he'd spoiled her mood by reminding her of their true relationship, he struggled to smooth things over. "I mean, let's see that love spot."
She let him adjust her legs, looking up at the ceiling. Stan kissed inside her thighs as he crawled up her body. Not wanting to upset her, he rushed to her breasts, smothering them in kisses, suckles, nips. He was conscious of his prick rubbing on her, being squeezed between them, when he settled his weight a bit.
"Aren't you forgetting something?" she asked, nodding her head toward the bottle of lubricant on the side table.
"Oh yeah." Stan rolled off her and picked up the bottle. Kneeling beside her, he dribbled some on her stomach, then in a line up between her breasts. "Care for a bit of a massage?" He rubbed his hands together after dousing them as well.
"Mm. Sounds good." Beth stretched, arching her back, then settled. Stan began rubbing, squeezing, feeling her as he spread the lubricant all over the front of her. "Not too much. We don't want to stain the cover."
"Stop being a mom all the time." Stan rubbed some on himself as well. Her body glistened, slick under his hands. The smell of coconut permeated his sinuses, cascaded down the back of his throat. When he rubbed her between her legs, the aroma of her sex mingled, heightened his enjoyment. Then he made sure his cock was well lubed before laying on top of her, his erection against her stomach. Wiggling and writhing, they slid and slithered. Stan's cock thrummed with feelings. He had thought he couldn't get any harder, hornier, but he was wrong.
Beth squirmed under him, her pelvis rocking. He cupped her crotch, sliding his fingers around her vagina, then in, then to her clitoris. Her breathing deepened, purred in and out of her. Little moans escaped her lips. She reached between them, gripped his cock, gave it firm squeezes. Every time her hand loosened a bit, he slid his dick through her fingers. When she squeezed again as he pushed back in, the sensations exploded all the way into his brain.
Then she let him go, grasped him by the shoulders, digging her nails in. She pumped her hips so hard his penis rasped through her pubic hair, then her vagina was sliding up and down the shaft of his cock. Stan wondered if she was going to have him enter her, but then realized she was stimulating her clit on his dick, the way she had on his arm. She was cumming and spasms wracked her whole body.
Her nails dug into his skin and Stan was certain there'd be scratches. He concentrated on keeping up her stimulation so she would get maximum enjoyment. He knew he wasn't far behind, having her naked, slicked up like this was a massive turn on for him. It sounded like she was trying to talk but only mews and murmurs escaped her. As her orgasm continue to tear through her, she gripped his cock again, tugging and rubbing it. It was rough, a bit violent, but it felt incredible too. And then he was spurting, ejecting massive sperm to mix with the oil and their sweat.
"Yes, my sweet boy, come for mom," Beth puffed into his ear. Stan couldn't keep from wriggling more, he loved how his cock slid in and out of her hand, how she massaged its head. She kept up her squeezes until it began to soften. "You liked that."
"Loved it, Beth."
"Mm, me too." She lay quiet for a few moments, her chest rising and falling. Stan felt her heartbeat slowing, he had his ear against her chest. "Could use a nap now."
Stan was drifting into quiet slumber when she gave him another stiff squeeze. "Again?" she asked.
Rousing, Stan realized he was getting hard. In those moments on the edge of sleep, he'd been having erotic thoughts. He propped himself up on one elbow and smiled at her. "Sorry?"
"It's alright. Don't be sorry. You take care of me, I take care of you." She leaned her head in and took him in her mouth.
Stan's first reaction was to pull away, this wasn't part of their arrangement. But then, them being fully naked together had never been part of it either. "Wait Mom, er Beth. If you're ok with this, it might be better."
Looking at him with a quizzical expression, Stan got on his knees and had her turn around, so she was kneeling, but facing away from him. He pressed his cock against the back of her thighs, then between them. She gasped, started to protest but he reassured her. "Not screwing, just this."
And then he was pumping his hips, his cock sliding between her thighs, but not in her vagina, against it though. With each thrust, he rubbed the top of her pussy, stimulating her clitoris. She began moving with him. Looking down at her ass, Stan realized he was so close to fucking her, and that thought started him cumming again. He thrust hard and fast. She must have had similar thoughts because she began spasming through a massive orgasm. They continued pistoning, thrusting, cumming for what felt like hours. Finally, Stan crashed to the bed, and she flopped beside him. They were spent.
"That was my most intense orgasm ever, Stan. How did you do that?"
"It's called thighing," he started to explain.
"Not that, you dolt." She let out a sharp breath. "Making me cum so fast and so intense. It felt like I was going to fold in on myself."
"Youthful enthusiasm?" He smiled at her. His eyes drooped and he felt himself slipping down that slumber slide again. "Sex sure is hard work..." and then he was sleeping.
Two days later, Stan was working at his drawing again. Remembering the expression on his mother's face as he'd brought her to orgasm, gave him the inspiration to redo the face in the sketch, getting the desire into it that he was looking for. It also raised an erection.
Since their last session, where he's humped her from behind, thighed her, he seemed to sport constant wood. He'd resisted masturbating, wanting to save himself for her next session. His mom hadn't helped his situation much either. She'd taken to walking around the house in all forms of dress and undress. Lots of undress. "Now that you've seen me naked, I can save on laundry and having to make decisions around what to wear every day.
Stan had resisted joining her in that nudist activity, certain that if she saw his level of arousal, she'd insist on more sessions than she would otherwise. He was determined to keep this activity in response to her medication side effects, not his own libido. Today though, he'd foregone getting dressed, 'To give me the proper inspiration for finishing this sketch,' he'd told himself. Truth was, it felt good being naked. And, since his mom had gone into town shopping, 'dressed I hope,' he had the house to himself.
He was slouching in his chair, studying the details he'd created on paper, relishing the sensation of his hard cock, throbbing against his stomach when a voice behind him, startled him. "That is me."
Stan dropped the page onto his crotch, sitting up, hunching as though he could hide himself. His mom was in a white blouse with yellow flowers. The top two buttons were undone, and the hem had been tied, gathered under her breasts. Her white shorts had black accent thread outlining the pockets, fly, and seams. Despite his discomfort at being caught unexpected, he felt a shudder run through his cock. She was super sexy.
"Wha, No, You," Stan stammered. "Any resemblance is just coincidence." He finally managed to say. "You're supposed to be in town." He started to stand, wanting to grab some clothes.
"I forgot my list, had to come back." She took the picture from him, stood looking at it while he scrambled for his housecoat. "You don't need that," She said, squinting as his art. "I like you as you are." She looked at him, up and down. He closed the housecoat, knotted the tie. "This is me." She gave the paper a little shake. "But that's alright. I'm flattered. But that tail. Are you fantasizing about your mother?"
She set the page on the desk and stepped close to him. She brushed through the front of his housecoat, gripped his penis. Rubbed it slow. Stan almost passed out the feeling was so intense.
"Seeing you here." She gave a soft squeeze. "Like this." Another slow rub. "I feel the need for a session growing." She stepped in even closer, squeezed her hand until it was almost painful, gave him a tug, and said, "Feeling up to it?"
Knowing he didn't have to answer that question, he wrapped his arms around her, slid his hands down her back, grabbed her ass and pulled her in tight. At the same time, he lowered his head and gave her a tongue-filled kiss. After a few moments he said, "I'll let my actions speak for me."
"Oh, speak away." She reached up and pulled the housecoat from his shoulders. "Make me look like the warrior in your drawing."
"As you wish my princess." He helped her get out of her clothes. She lay back on his bed and he lay on top of her. Then he remembered his own little shopping trip into town.
"Just a sec." He got back up and ran around his bed. "I got something." He pulled a pump bottle of lubricant he'd bought. "This is good stuff." He squirted some into his palm, rubbed it on her chest. "See how slippery it is?"
She slid her fingers into it, then rubbed them together. She started to say something, but Stan pressed a finger against her lips. "It's water-based, see?" He pointed at some fine printing on the bottle. "Will wash right out. It's so safe, its edible." He stuck his finger in his mouth. "Mm, coconut."
"You need some too then." She took the bottle from him, glanced at the label then pumped some into her hand, applied it to his penis. The sensation was exhilarating. Stan couldn't help but pump his hips, sliding his dick through her fingers. He took the bottle back and lubed her up.
With her laying back on the bed, he squeezed his cock between his belly and hers. Then he began to grind, sliding his dick along the top of her vagina. She writhed beneath him, matching her pelvis to his. She gasped so he knew she was enjoying it. The lube had added a pleasurable element to this action. Sliding against her didn't get so hot and her pubic hair wasn't so abrasive against his head.
In a few minutes, he felt an orgasm building in his balls. Afraid his days of abstinence had made him too sensitive, he shifted to reduce his stimulation. He didn't want to cum too soon, was really enjoying this action.
"You ok?" she asked.
"Perfect." He smiled down at her. "You?"
"Amazing. You made a good choice. We can try something else if you want."
"How about this?" Stan rolled onto his side, guided her so she was on hers. Then he slid his cock between her thighs. He pumped, pushing his cock along her vagina, then back out. He gave an extra push, lifting his pelvis so the root of his dick pressed hard against her clitoris.
"Oh," she puffed. "That's very nice." She squeezed her thighs together as he pulled out, let them relax as he pressed in again. His cock was long enough that the head of it stuck out behind her. When he pulled it back through, the pressure intensified the rush of sensations along his shaft.
He slid his hands over her body, along her back, down to her ass. Then he gripped her, guiding her motion to increase both of their pleasure. He could tell by the way she moved her bottom, moaned, cooed, that she was enjoying it as much as he was.
After a few more minutes, he asked. "Try something else?"
"Lead the way."
He stood, guided her onto her stomach then lifted her bottom. That allowed him to thigh her from behind. He added more lubricant and worked at her, marvelling in the view of her ass. Too, he could see the lips of her vagina, squeezed by her thighs and the thrusts of his cock. He leaned forward, kissed her back. Slipping his hands over her skin was silky, smooth. He felt that building orgasm again and knew he had to change things up. She wasn't ready to cum yet.
"Let's try something totally new," he suggested.
"What do you have in mind?"
Instead of answering, he had her lay on her back again. Then he crawled between her legs, gently spreading them. Her vagina was in full view. A concerned look crossed her face.
"Don't worry. I know the rules." He moved his face to her vagina, stuck out his tongue and licked the outside of her lips.
She gasped and her pelvis dug into the bed.
Letting the aroma of her arousal fill his nostrils, Stan licked up the other side of her vagina. She gave a low moan. Then he licked up and over the top, down the other side, under the bottom. She moved and he couldn't keep his tongue from licking across the opening. He tasted her juices, delicious, but adjusted his tongue to keep it on the outside. Changing direction, he continued licking her. Then he tried giving her little kisses, feeling her lips as they pressed against his.
"Oh my god." Her hips were rocking and thrusting. He let his tongue linger at the top, then moved it down so it touched her clitoris. She rocked her hips deep with that move, thrust back up, rubbing her vagina against his tongue. He kissed her again, then left his tongue sticking out, letting her move herself against it any way she wanted. He gave her the flat of it, allowing her to rub her lips against it without it entering her. Her hands scrabbled into his hair and then she was pulling his face tight against her. "Oh, you bugger," she panted, "that feels so incredible I want more."
"What do you mean?" He lifted his head, but she tugged it back down.
"Give it to me. Give me all of it."
"You mean this?" His words came out muffled because his mouth was mushed against her crotch. He flicked his tongue and shoved it full into her vagina. A flood of juices filled his mouth.
"Oh, oh, oh, yes." Her pelvis thrust and rocked against his face. He pushed his tongue in and out, around and back in. He used his nose to stimulate her clitoris, then his tongue. He could feel the intensity building in her.
"Does this help?" He stuck his fingers into her, spreading her wider, giving deeper access to his tongue. He continued until he felt the thrum through her body. There was another rush of juices as she came, grinding her crotch against his face and him licking it all up. He kept his tongue moving, thrusting, his fingers feeling her vagina, exploring the depths of her as the spasms eased. He brought her back to the real world.
"I didn't think it could get better than before, but you've done it again." She smiled at him when he lay alongside her. Running his hands over her body, luxuriating in the feel of the slick, her breasts, her ass, enjoying her body. "I know I asked for that, but we've crossed a line today. I hope you're ok with that."
"Mom, I've never felt so close to you as I do right now. To be able to bring you pleasure like that..." He didn't finish his sentence.
She stroked his erection, her fingers feeling amazing as she played with him. "Stand up," she commanded, "I want that closeness with you too."
Not certain what she meant, Stan did as he was told. She sat looking up at him, her hand still on his cock. "Watch this," she said, then slipped her lips over the head of his cock. She pulled back a moment. "This is no accident this time." And she let him fill her mouth.
It was Stan's turn to gasp. The feeling was so intense, so incredible. His cock threatened to explode. His hips rocked back and forth of their own accord. Slow, sliding his dick between her lips as his tongue had slipped in and out of her vagina. She gave it gentle sucks, letting her tongue explore his length, the head, before her mouth tightened again. She kept looking up at him, meeting his eyes. Stan realized having him watch her suck his cock was turning her on. He fondled her breasts as she worked on him.
Then he couldn't hold back anymore. "Beth, I'm going to cum," he warned her. She smiled at that, genuine happiness in her eyes. She kept him in her mouth, grabbed his ass cheeks and began sucking harder. Keeping her tongue sliding along the bottom of his penis, flicking where its head joined the shaft. That was the most sensitive part of his dick, and the feeling was mind blowing. How did she know that was the equivalent of her clitoris? In a moment he didn't care as the sperm jetted out of him. His hips rocked hard, and he had to resist pulling her head against him. He didn't want to choke her.
After the first burst, he saw cum leak around her lips and thought, there's so much. And then he was spurting more, more, more, but no more leaked out. She was swallowing his whole load. And the happiness in her eyes never left. She was pleased to please him like this.
Once he was done cumming, his knees felt weak, and he sat on the bed. Holding him, she lay back, pushed herself on the bed and they lay there cuddling, enjoying the aftermath of their sex. Stan looked at her and marveled that she had the same expression as his warrior princess. He'd done good work.