The following story is essentially true. The events happened pretty much as described, though I have embellished some of the details. Names have been changed where needed.
After sitting by and doing nothing while my grandfather used me as his sex toy for five years, and even making a bargain to continue to let him do so in exchange for not doing the same to my younger brothers, my mother finally became concerned enough one day to have a talk with me about sex, just before I turned sixteen.
The incident that triggered it occurred in our home one day when my mother returned from work early. We were in the process of packing to move out to her brother’s place a couple of states away, just my mother and me. My two younger brothers had already gone with my uncle, a week or so earlier, and we had planned to spend a couple of weeks packing stuff up and drive out there later with a U-haul trailer. Dammit, she normally parked in front of the house, where we would have heard her pull up in plenty of time to stop and get our pants on, but for some reason she had parked in the back, and come through the kitchen to walk in on us. She caught me licking and sucking the cum off a friend’s cock on our living room couch. Albert, the boyfriend, had already given me my blowjob, and I was just returning the favor, when my mother somehow managed to park the car and get into the house without us hearing her arrive, and walked in on us in flagrante delecto, as it were.
I’ll give her credit, she didn’t completely freak out. After all, she had spent five years listening to my grandfather and me have sex in the next room at my grandparent’s house, and never said a word to me about it. The intervening four years, she had no idea I had been sexually active, with boys and girls, and was a committed bisexual. Well, considering her upbringing and the times, the early 70’s, she didn’t even know what a bisexual was.
She made us get our clothes on and sent Albert packing, not even threatening to call his parents, though he did worry she might do just that, until I saw him the next day and reassured him that wasn’t going to happen. He asked how I could be so sure, and I just smiled at him…
But for the moment, my mother proceeded to sit beside me on the couch, and began to ramble on and on about how it was her fault, she should have done something before – she wouldn’t say before what, but I knew she meant when my grandfather, her father, was using me for sex – and stopped it then, and she thought when it had stopped maybe I would return to ‘normal’ again, but now she could see it hadn’t worked, and now I had turned out ‘queer’. I’m sorry if anyone is offended by that, but this was the early 70’s, and that was the word in use at the time. She babbled on and on about how it was too late now, probably, and I would always be ‘queer’, and it was all her fault, and on and on and, well, you get the picture.
All this time, I couldn’t get a word in edgewise, and I knew from experience the best thing to do was just let her run down, and then I could try to explain. She finally did just that, and I began to tell her I wasn’t ‘queer’, I was bisexual, and…
She didn’t understand bisexuality, and began again about how I was ‘queer’, I had to be, she had just caught me doing disgusting, perverted things with another boy, and it took a couple more minutes to get her quieted down so I could begin again.
This time I explained that yes, I did things with other boys, but I also had sex with girls, too, and I enjoyed both about equally, though I tended to like sex with girls better. She could understand that, but still didn’t quite believe it. She rarely ever saw me with a girl, and I was always spending the night with my male friends, and she just knew I had to be doing nasty things with them. I explained that she was never around when I was with a girl, and I certainly wasn’t going to have sex with one in front of her, and besides, all those nights I told her I was staying at a male friend’s house, many times they were just an excuse to get out of our house so I could spend the night fucking a girl. She had never checked, and I knew she never checked, and I had taken advantage of it. Since I had stopped having sex with my grandfather, and our trips to my grandparent’s had dropped from almost weekly to once every two or three weeks, I spent most of my weekends out of the house, barely checking in every once in a while, and during the week, as long as I had dinner ready when she got home, my mother barely paid any attention to what I did or where I went afterwards. I had plenty of opportunities to get away for a good fucking, with female and male partners, without her noticing.
She could see that that was true, but still she couldn’t grasp the concept of bisexuality. She still didn’t get that I liked girls, and had sex with them regularly; she had caught me with another boy, and she knew my past with my grandfather, so I must be ‘queer’, there was no other explanation for her.
After a few minutes silence, she finally said she still wasn’t convinced, she still didn’t believe I could have sex with a girl. I told her there wasn’t really any way to prove it, then, so I guess we were stuck. I suppose at least one of my girlfriends, Clara, would be glad to have me fuck her in front of my mother to prove I did fuck girls, but I certainly wasn’t going to do that.
My mother looked down at her hands for a few minutes, wringing and twisting them together, then began to chew her nails. I had only seen her that upset one time before, when I was in the second grade, the day President Kennedy was shot. My mother had been a nervous wreck for days after that, and I had been scared for her then, a lot.
Finally, not looking up, she said there was one way to prove it to her, and I asked what that was. She hesitated a few seconds, then said I could have sex with her, and that might convince her I was telling the truth about liking girls.
I wasn’t in the least bit shocked by the idea. I had, after all, had sex with my grandfather for over five years, from age seven to twelve, and at his urging I had taken a female cousin’s virginity when we were both ten, while he had watched. In fact, I still had sex with my cousin whenever we got a chance to get together, and we both thoroughly enjoyed it. I knew what incest was, and knew how it made the sex with my cousin, and earlier with my grandfather, so much better, so much more exciting, because it was so forbidden, so the thought of fucking my mother didn’t seem in any way wrong to me.
In fact, the thought of fucking my own mother got me tremendously excited. My mother was no beauty queen, and never had been. She and my father had separated just before I turned seven years old, and she had worked hard for the last nine years to raise three kids by herself. She was in her forties and looked every bit of it, and had a bit of a belly, and her auburn hair was starting to go gray. Still, just the idea of fucking her had my cock rock hard.
I said okay, that was fair enough, and she slowly got up and took my hand to lead me to her bedroom. She began to take her clothes off, and told me to do the same, and moments later we both stood there naked. She lay down on the bed, on her back, and spread her legs, expecting me to simply climb on top of her and fuck her.
My mother, I found out, had never had anything but missionary position sex, except for giving an occasional blowjob. She had never had a man give her oral sex, or do anything to make sure she got as much out of sex as they did. There was just a bit of manual foreplay, maybe a little sucking on his cock, then a quick fuck, and it was over. She had, by her early forties, never had an orgasm.
At the time, though, I didn’t know any of this, but just climbing on top of a girl and fucking her just wasn’t my style. I almost never fucked a girl without spending some face time with her pussy, and my mother’s thick auburn bush, with just a touch of gray, looked incredibly inviting. I took her by one ankle and spun her around in the bed, so she was laying crossways, and positioned her so her ass was on the edge of the bed, her legs hanging down. She wasn’t sure what was going on, and started to protest, but by then I had my face firmly planted in her muff.
That was dirty and perverted, she said, trying to push my head away from her pussy, but I held firm, and began to lick up and down her hairy slit as I used two fingers on one hand to open it up a bit. I bumped my tongue up against her clit, and licked around it a few times, and she quit trying to push me away and began to relax, though she kept moaning how filthy and disgusting it was. I ran my tongue up and down her slit a few times, and she quickly began to get very wet, and as I circled my tongue around her clit and licked it again, her protests stopped, and gave way to a low moan.
As I slipped a couple of fingers inside her pussy and began to fingerfuck her, I continued lapping at her pussy, stopping to pay a little attention to her clit every once in a while. Just the thought that I was kissing my mother’s pussy had me so excited I was afraid I would cum too soon, so I tried to imagine it was just one of the other older women I had fucked, but my mind kept coming back to the fact that it was my mother.
She began to climax, and none too soon, as I was close to cumming myself, and I so wanted to cum inside her as she reached her orgasm. I redoubled my efforts, licking her clit a bit more often, even nibbling it a bit, and she finally began to tremble, as though she were trying to hold back, then her back arched upwards, pushing her pussy toward my face, and she cried out, “Yessssssssssssssssss! Oh God, oh God, oh God…”
I stood and quickly lined my cock up on her slit, and rammed it home as quickly as I could. I tried to fuck her slow and easy to make my erection last, but I was so excited about fucking my mother, about thrusting my cock into the same pussy I was born out of, I couldn’t hold back very long. Within a couple of minutes, my cock was jerking and twitching inside her pussy as I fired my cum inside her. I fucked in and out maybe a minute longer before it grew too soft to continue, then pulled back and let my cock slip out of her pussy.
My cock was no sooner out of her pussy than my face was right back in it. I licked and sucked my cum and hers from her hairy slit, as she lay panting and groaning on the bed. I began to lick my way around her clit again, then dragged my tongue over it a couple of times, and gave her a post-fucking pussy eating, as was my habit. She had abandoned all pretense by now, and simply thoroughly enjoyed the climax that soon washed over her, and the second fucking I gave her afterwards.
After that, she never doubted me again when I told her I liked girls. She still wasn’t clear on the whole concept of bisexuality, but she figured as long as I wasn’t completely ‘queer’, she could live with it.