Y 2 K MOM
or ‘Yes 2 Kumming, Mother’s on Marijuana
( m/F middle-age mother / college son - incest )
January First, Two Thousand ... 1/1/00 ... the New Year, the New Century, the New Millennium and a new day ... 6:10 am; why she awoke she was unsure. But she was awake and alive and still a bit buzzy from the party last night. It was two in the morning by the time the last of the guests had left their house. Quite a blow-out it had been. There was a sense of revelry which seemed to push the boundaries of all other previous New Year parties which they had given.
The kids had been old enough to join in the festivities and had some of their college friends over. The multi-generational mix had added a feeling of rejuvenation for the middle-age group which had traditionally attended their holiday blasts. Perhaps it was a spirit of passing the touch to a younger group of adults as the next era was beginning. Perhaps it was the passing of the joints brought by the kids that the older folks were toking like they were back in school themselves.
Whatever the chemistry of margaritas and marijuana, wine and weed, gin and joints; there was a wild, wanton, wicked, wonderful time had by all. Dancing bordered on seduction, games were played for little sexual favors, clothing was loose and so were the morals of some of the guests. The spare bedroom was locked several times through the evening. Certain folks shared the bathroom with persons of the opposite sex, for rather longer than needed for usual purposes. It had not turned into an orgy, but it was as close to one as she had ever been.
Yet, as the hostess, she had not had the chance to sneak even a touchie / feelie with anyone. Save from a few lingering kisses several of the male guests gave her upon leaving, she had missed out on the sneaky fun everyone else seem to be having. Wait a minute. There was a fuzzy memory of one of her son’s friends copping a feel on her tush at the sink when she was mixing some more drinks. But the youth had not followed through.
She wondered if her husband had made any passes at some of the women last night. He was a notorious flirt but seldom made any serious attempt to go any further; at least while she was around. Last night was a very liberated occasion though, perhaps he had chanced it. There was certainly a period where she had lost track of him for nearly a half an hour. It’s not like he hadn’t cheated on her once or twice. Since they were brief flings, and she and he otherwise had a great relationship, she had forgiven him. Still, it had pissed her off each time.
She had thought about getting even but never found anyone she would want to do it with. Well, she thought to herself honestly, maybe that kid last night might have been fun. Yet she wanted to have sex with someone she was fond of at least, not a quick roll in the sack with physical gratification the only motive. Intimacy was so much better when coupled with caring. Mutual giving made the act of love special and sweet and added to the sensual pleasure. It was heightened by a sense of trusting each other, you and your partner’s intimately sharing of deepest self.
She arose and slipped on a light robe over her nude form. She was still trim in her petite figure. Her breast sagged only a little and her tummy was kept tight with exercise. She might have passed for one of the college kids if she colored the start of gray out of her hair and you didn’t look too close at the laugh lines around her eyes and mouth. She’d be damned if she would call them crows feet. A couple of tennis games a week gave her bottom a firm feel and her legs an athletic muscle tone. She bet that the kid from last night enjoyed squeezing her buns.
She descended the stairs to the kitchen for a Screwdriver to stave off a hangover, but discovered there was no more orange-juice left. However she found half a fat joint in one of the ashtrays, brought in from the perfunctory clean up effort at the end of the party. ‘COOL!’ She thought to herself, I haven’t had a chance to get decently stoned in nearly five years. She had been a hippie in younger days, protested the Vietnam War, gone to Woodstock, cheered Nixon’s resignation and smoke a lot of pot in her youth.
That had changed with work and marriage and kids. She didn’t resent the moving on into the mature roles that respon-sibilities required of her. But she did miss the freedom of times gone bye, now and then. She went out to the deck in the back of the house. No one up, no one to see, everything cool; she lit the marijuana and sat in a lounge chair as she sucked in the first toke. The peaceful mild morning of a warm Florida winter’s day was quiet save for bird song.
It seemed to her the idea setting for a retreat from all the concerns and duties being a grown up had. The grass was powerful, or maybe it had been so long since she had smoke some. In any case it was beginning to make her nice and high. Only one problem, she got horny when she got high. She reached between her legs and started to finger herself. In an instant she was wet. She took another toke. Maybe she should go back upstairs and see if her husband could get it up. Probably not, after last night’s booze and maybe a babe in the spare room. He had been snoring one of those ‘dead-until-noon’, sleep it off, log-sawing sounds when she had left the bedroom.
Well, there was always her trusty dildo. She had another hit of reefer and felt really mellow. “I wish that fresh freshman was around this morning.” She said out loud. “Maybe he was a sophisticated sophomore who could sock it to me.” she mused. “Or an ‘up-her-classman’ who would put it up me, with a ‘magnum cum loud’!” she began to giggle. Giddiness was another effect that “happy-hemp’ had on her.
She inhaled deeply the smoke once more and held it in like an old pro. The analgesic properties of the euphoric drug made it easier by now to do that. She felt a rush, it seemed to go in both directions from her lungs. Straight to her head making a dizzy swimming, and straight to her cunt making a hot tingling. This was premo! She got up from the chair she had been sitting on. “Getting the munchies! Let’s raid the kitchen!” she shouted out the charge, as she floated on a grand buzz toward the refrigerator.
“Morning. Mom.” A voice started her, she spun to see her six-two son towering a head above her in the kitchen doorway. The motion made her head spin too. He also was in a robe, the silk one they had given him for that Christmas.
“Hi! Kiddo!” she smiled and raised her hand with the smoking evidence of her morning good mood. “Have a toke?”
“All right! Ma!” he said and accepted the offered joint, taking a deep hit and gulped to hold it in.
“Did you have a good time last night, sweetie?” she queried him.
He nodded vigorously to indicate that it had been an excellent time. “Did you get laid?” Where did that come from, she wondered? The dope had dissolved her discretion if not her inhibitions. Well, hell he’s a big boy now, he can tell his mother if he got lucky last night.
At the question though, her son had spasmed out the smoke, startled by the unexpected query from his mother of all people. “Ah, no ... actually my date got sick from drinking too much and I drove her home early. But I got back for the last few hours of the party and it was a swell shindig, mom. How about you? You and dad welcome in the new millennium by making love?” He took another hit and passed the joint back to her.
She shook her head no as she drew smoke into her lungs and said in the strained voice one uses to hold your breath and talk at the same time, “Your dad might have poked somebody, I’m not sure; but I haven’t been screwed by him or anybody in two weeks,” She exhaled. “GOD! I’m so horny right now I’d fuck that friend of yours who felt up my ass last night, if he were here right now. Do you have his number? . . . No just kidding, I wouldn’t call him. But honestly, I could use a good lay. Maybe when your father gets up this afternoon I can tear him away from the TV and football to ball him.” Then another thing that grass did to her happened. She started to cry.
“Mom, What’s wrong? Don’t cry” her son tried to comfort her. He took the joint and snubbed it out in an ashtray then took her in his arms and hugged her. “It’s going to be OK. Are you sad because you think dad cheated on you again?”
“No, I’m not positive that he did. But that’s not why I’m crying. I’m only human. I’m only forty-two, and I’m frustrated as hell! I need sex like everybody else and the man I’m married to can’t find enough time or interest to satisfy me and I don’t want to have some cheap affair and I have a dildo but it’s a poor substitute for a real cock and that marijuana made me so hot and horny that I’m telling my own son things I shouldn’t be saying and asking him about his sex life that’s none of my business and ...” her uncontrolled babbling was abruptly ended with a kiss on her lips from her son.
But he didn’t stop with that one kiss, the next was more passionate. The next was passionate and longer. The third was hot and when he slipped his tongue in between her lips she involuntarily opened he mouth to let it slip further. Then she found herself responding to the kissing with her own tongue and hugging him close with her arms around his waist as he pressed her compact figure to his solid frame holding her on her back so that her breasts were firmly mashed against his chest.
She had known that her handsome son had grownup to be a stud, a beefcake, masculine and obviously virile when he walked around the house in his jockey shorts in the morning, his erection often conspicuous. She had never scolded him because secretly she got a kick out of seeing how big and sexy her baby had grown. His sister stopped bitching about it a couple of years ago when they were both finally of college age. She wondered if her daughter had gotten over being embarrassed by the exhibitionism of his masculinity because she too came to appreciate the opportunity to have a good-looking brother parading around with a Playgirl centerfold body on display.
Now that morning erection was pressing tight to her tummy and doing things to her head in ways that a mother shouldn’t think about her own son. “We ought not to . . . Please, Honey I didn’t mean that we . . . Sweetie, stop I’m your mother, its to dangerou . . . oooh uhh!” her words changed to moans as his hands moved to her behind and with a slight lifting motion brought her to her toes as he bent his knees a little so the rock hard rod between them stroked once over her mound.
Then he returned his left hand to the small of her back. This gave her the opportunity to lean back somewhat away from his chest but this was the very thing he had counted on. She felt his warm large right hand part the front of her robe to cup her naked tit and stroke the nipple with his thumb. His head bent again to kiss her. Her nipple was erect with the stimulation it was receiving. She was practically dripping between her legs and even the rosette of her asshole felt excited.
Her son’s hand left her breast, but rather than move over to the other he tugged on the cord of her robe so that the sash loosened and came untied. Now he could see that she wore only the open robe, her pussy hair was a reddish brown triangle and the strawberries of her nipples played peekaboo from the sides of her robe. Then her son reach down to open his own robe. It too, was all that he wore. She found herself starring straight down at an eight inch pillar of male flesh with veins along the side. A mushroom head of an awesome purple shade glistened with precum seeping from the open hole in the tip.
She felt him slip his hands and arms inside her gown to draw mother and man-child in a full frontal nudity embrace. It was a moment so erotic and powerful that she knew then she had lost what ever will she ever had to resist his advances from then on. For here it was, here he was, someone which she did cared about, who would share a love special and sweet and sensual, she trusted him and they knew each other in an intimate way that was leading to physical intimacy also. The physical union was united by a spiritual one and soon his heighten pleasure would be in her deepest self.
Her head bent slightly to be at the perfect angle to suck his nipples. His look of surprise and the delight told her that this was a new thing which she was teaching him. Her mothering in teaching him about the finer points of carnal thrills made all the keener her desire to have him as a lover. The son she bore was soon to reenter the womb and complete the cycle of life. The two robes fell the floor leaving the pair unrestricted in their exploration of each others bodies. Her head was drawn up for kisses by his gentle hands.
He kissed her forehead, then her eyes, cheeks, lips; and open mouth kiss followed, their tongues danced together. He kissed down her neck on one side and moved, kiss by kiss, to the opposite shoulder, then lower and over and lower like a falling leaf, until at last his worshipping mouth drew in the aching nipple of her left breast. Some minutes later that one grew almost too sensitive for further administrations, the kissing proceeded to trail over to the right side until that point too had all that it could stand.
She trembled as his kisses continued their downward journey to her tummy, to her mons, tickling the hair, to her hidden pink pearl and there he suddenly broke off. It left her in confusion. Surely it was not the end? He wouldn’t leave her hanging, tease her knowing of her desires, after hearing her confession of frustration, wouldn’t bring her to such an exquisite anticipation of rapture, of his naked body blending with the revelation of her needy nudity, and abruptly abandon her. Then she was in his strong, powerful arms being carried into the living room. The living room, how delicious she thought, I’ll never be in this room again without thinking of this moment.
The drug seemed now to have been over shadowed by the heat of her lust, as her son set her down on the broad easy chair next to the grandfather clock. As her son knelt and began to once more lick her clit, the clock stuck the hour of seven. Could this really have taken place in less than an hour since she had awaken? Wasn’t time supposed to stand still for moments like these? It was the cusp of eternity, it was . . .
She exploded. The cum was so unexpected and intense that she thought at first a bomb had gone off with the clanging of the clock. When she was able to gather her wits, her son was still licking at her crotch. His long tongue probing her hole, the spit and pussy juices trickled/tickled down her crack. The chair is going to have a hell of a wet spot today she thought and giggled. ‘Oh, Goodie!’ she thought to herself, still stoned and ready as I’ll ever be for the best fuck of my life. She looked into the eyes of her son who had raised his head at her laughter. “Do it, Babe! Screw mommy, fuck me hard and long and strong. I need you now!”
He slid her hips down several inches to adjust for a better angle of penetration. His knob at the end of a eight inch pole pointed at her pussy was purple red with readiness. Each of them focused on the electric moment of contact as pulsing pillar plied the center of her sensuality. She could see it nudged aside the folds of her labia and felt the heat of hot blood which was contrasted by the slight coolness of her juices evaporating in steamy lust.
The head of her son’s dick pushed in with gentle insistence, in, in ... parting the curtain of convention, violating the veil of sacred vows, peaking through the drapes of depravity, tenderly shedding the tissue of civilization which kept sexual animal aggression in check. It must be the grass making her think in those extended philosophical terms. The truth was, it was like losing her virginity, only this time the was no hymen to be torn; only the ripping away of the inhibitions which had kept her long secret lust from seducing the handsome hunk her son had become.
He had nearly the full bulb of the tip in, such a delicious tease of anticipation of things to cum! He withdrew slightly, drawing down a coating of lubricant, then thrust forward at a deliberately gradual rate. Wants to make the moment of first penetration into mommy last as long as possible, she thought to herself. Then a slight retreat was followed by a progression of four inches, back two, in three, out one then ... all the way! She closed her eyes for the exquisite exhilaration, transported by the feeling of complete penetration of a hard, hot, silky, veined, thick, long, all man, all hers, cock!
Stoned and fucking, fucking someone who loved her and cared for her and desired her pleasure above his own. It didn’t get any better. She would make sure this lover came back for more, he would find that she gave as good as she got. Her son began to move in long slow strokes. Christ! He knew how to fuck a woman right! His hairy balls swung and swayed, beating against her bottom and sometimes delightfully hitting just right and tickling her asshole. The tip of his dick was almost to the furthest depths of her vagina and it’s flair strummed her cunt walls like the bow of a violin.
She couldn’t help but begin to make little moaning sounds now. “Mm, Oh! Ooh . . . Mmnnah, yes, yeah! That’s the way, baby! Oh, Yes! Fuck me! Fuck Mommy,” she encouraged him as her passion ballooned and his pace increased. “Yes! Make mommy cum, I’m going to cum for you honey!! Come on, baby, cum in mommy!
He began to slam his huge cock in her, pounding so that flesh slapped together in that ancient rhythm of nearing climax, a beat which grew faster by the minute. He grunted, “Yus, ahh . . yah, gonna fuck you hard ma!, I’m gonna give it to you deep, all my cum, all my love, all the way in you!! I’m almost there . . . cum with me mom, cum with me mommy!” The last cry nearly in tears, as he was gripped with fierce emotions in the release of the pent up lust he too had harbored for his sexy mother.
She was now on the verge. She called to him to finish the great coupling; their grand and glorious union of body and spirit, the incestuous melding of souls in sin without guilt, the linking of two bodies into one physical pinnacle of pleasure together. “O! God, yes honey, give your mommy what we need to make us cum!” She felt him hit bottom with her urging of his conquest of her. The spongy tip began to strike the mouth of her cervix. It was the trigger. As her son’s penis plowed time and again, connecting with the very womb of his conception, her release arrived in a overwhelming crescendo of pure bodily ecstasy.
She spasmed and contracted and thrust and shook and twitched, all involuntarily in the biggest orgasm of her life. She felt her pussy flutter and her asshole wink three times at least. Her nipples were as hard as pebbles and as sensitive as a seismograph , her clit throbbed and seemed to ring in her ears the song of its hallelujah. Through the whole explosion of rocketing to paradise, her stallion stud had steadfastly continued to pump pleasure to his mare.
But now he was no longer able to hold back the tidal wave of his boiling needs and began spewing massive squirts of cum right into the opening of her cervix, drenching her womb with his sperm. Her own son was spilling his seed into the heart of her sex, the most sacred place of her inner carnal self. The very crazy wickedness of such a wild and wanton deed they were performing together inspired her to another huge, earth rumbling cumming. Cumming with her son was the final act of total liberation.
She was at last free from tension, unchained from the old ways of restricted thinking, and she was able to leave the bitterness of her husband’s infidelities and inadequacies behind. She still loved him, but now something, no, someone new had been added in to the matrix if her existence. She had known him all her life, but now they could truly know each other on a new and higher plane. As adults and as lovers. Her son was the one she had needed all along, and he obviously wanted to share the pleasure of her company too. In the most intimate way, as he had shown so magnificently.
It was a new millennium, a new century, a new year, a new day; a fresh start to her living, . . and . . ‘Oh, Goodie!’ she thought, as she looked down and saw her son had a new erection!