I snuck into the house well after 11:00. I figured there was a good chance my dad wasn’t home yet and thought for sure that Mom would be in bed. I figured it would be a straight shot up the steps to my room. I just wanted to free Willy, climb into bed, relive the best night of my life, and play with myself. Seemed like a simple plan. I eased the door shut behind me and headed straight for the steps. My hand was buried deep in my pocket; diddling the swollen head of my dick in anticipation of the handjob I was gunna give myself if I could just make it to my room. I can’t begin to describe how desperate I was to get upstairs and grab hold of my new best friend and make him the happiest dick ever. (My hand had been in my pocket the whole way home. I was constantly aware of the hardness of my cock; how sensitive it was, how swollen. I kept rubbing my thumb over it, feeling it, in spite of the fact that I was close to cumming in my pants.) I was almost giddy with excitement as I approached the staircase. Had I been a little gayer, I may have burst into song. (Not that there would be anything wrong with that)
And then I hit a brick wall…Mom walked out of the kitchen just as I reached the bottom of the steps. I froze and stared at her; part of me scared and part of me simply entranced. ( I couldn't help but picture her with my dick in her mouth ) She looked a little worried, bothered. She looked down at the floor, walking as if she were deep in thought. She looked young and beautiful, but her body language suggested something different. Her shoulders were slouched a little and her thumb was pressed against her chin while two fingers slowly, softly glided over her reddish lips; side to side and then in a complete circle as if she was remembering what she’d had in her mouth just a short time ago. I wanted to believe that her evening rendezvous had been as exciting and awesome for her as it had been for me, but then again, I was well aware of what was going on; she, on the other hand … from the moment she’d first closed her fingers around my dick, I believe … had a mystery on her hands.
When she saw me…she stopped abruptly. Her arms fell quickly to her sides. Her face changed. She looked almost…embarrassed. She seemed a little surprised to see me. Her characteristics took on more of a cautious nature. Her pretty eyes shifted back and forth, the way people sometimes do when they’re put in an uncomfortable situation. She looked like someone that had a secret and she looked like she might be sizing me up.
Now my dick still had a mind of its own. He began to throb. He was a happy dick, a happy dick for sure…a bold and brash dick, for the most part, and he had every reason to be; Watching Mom form her words with those beautiful lips, lips that had just been sliding over my dick, had ceased him as firmly as her hand had just a short time ago. I wasn’t even aware that my thumb continued to poke at my dick through my pocket.
“You OK Honey?” Mom asked a bit suspiciously.
I heard her…I wanted to answer…Knew I should…But the words weren’t there. I just stood there with one hand on the banister and the other in my pocket.
Your dick is hard-Those lips-Her tits-Answer her-Don’t stare-Those eyes-You’re staring-SAY SOMETHING! I begged myself.
I waited too long and Mom’s gaze drifted down; down to my pants; my pocket to be specific. When I saw her head cock to one side a tiny bit and her pretty eyes open a little bit wider and the brow above her left eye creep up well above her eye, I realized she was looking at my pants … moving, the tiny circles in my pocket, I swallowed hard. Her eyes drifted back to mine. And for a few long seconds…we just stared at each other. I thought I was caught. I was pretty sure that Mom had known, as soon as she’d closed her fingers around it, that the cock she held at the bathroom window was not my father’s. I thought she’d made the connection. Maybe that’s what she was thinking about as she came out of the kitchen.
“How’s Jimmy?” She asks, guarded… suspicious. My first thought was that Jimmy had called looking for me. Her brow furrowed a bit when I didn’t answer right away.
I took a deep breath and shook my head “Yes”, like an idiot, answering the first question she’d asked. My mind was playing catch-up.
“He’s ‘Yes’?” She replied, her head cocking a tiny bit more as she studied me.
“Yeah, no…I mean, yes, he’s OK, he’s good.” I swallowed hard again. It would have been easier to swallow a piece of furniture…The couch maybe…with someone sitting on it…holding a cactus.
“Are you OK Sweetie?” She asked again. This time I could hear more of a concern. It was
do-or-die time. I drew a long deep breath, and pulled my hand out of my pants pocket. I brought it up to my face and wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, preparing to jump. I wet my lips and then began to tell her how I’d run into Cathy Bickers on my way home. (Cathy lives three doors down. She’s a few years older than me and hot as shit) My mother knew I had a crush on her and I hoped that would explain a lot, especially the lump in the front of my pants)
“Did you stop and talk?”
“Yeah—Well, a little—Kinda.”
“Did you ask her out?” Mom said as a smile began to form.
“Nooooo!” I proclaimed as I rolled my eyes and shook my head.
“Why not? She seems like a nice girl and she’s really pretty too, huh?”
I saw my chance to escape…“Moooom! God!” I exclaimed. “…I’m going to bed?” I told her as I shook my head side to side and put a foot on the first step.
“No kiss?” She asks in a tone that was hard to read; maybe disappointed, maybe something else.
My stomach dropped. I sighed, and turned towards her. She smiled a weak but sincere smile and took a step closer to meet me...she waited. I closed the distance between us and tried to give her a quick peck on the check, but she threw her arms around me and drew me in.
I could feel those wonderful breasts, the ones I’d just watched her playing with, (The picture still crystal clear in my mind) pushing into my chest. I slipped my arms around her and slid my hands to the small of her back……And when I did, I felt like I was coming in from a cold, wet winters day…and she was the warm, soft blanket that I could bury myself in. The warmth covered all of me. She smelled great, a hint of honeysuckle in her freshly washed hair. I kissed her on the cheek for what should have been a quick second, but lingered into two or three. I knew she had to be able to feel the huge bulge in my pants against her hip, but oddly enough…I didn’t really care. I was in a place where nothing seemed to matter, except the way it felt to be there.
She took her hand and swept the hair away from my eyes with her fingertips. She pulled her head back a bit and focused on my eyes. I saw no contempt, no uneasiness; only the love that a mother usually has for a son. I’m almost ashamed (Almost) to say that the only desire I had at that particular moment was to hold her tighter and kiss her again. My lips touched her cheek again. This time, I let my lips softly drag across her hot cheek as I took a slow deep breath; loving the way she smelled. For the short time my lips touched her, I felt a kind of calmness; a sense that everything was as it should be. When I became aware of how tight I was holding her and how heavy my breathing had become…I pulled away and ran up the steps.
“I love you.” She told me, and those three simple words made me think that everything was OK.
She knew…She didn’t know…I didn’t care…Everything was OK. I stopped midway up the steps and looked back over my shoulder. “I love you too Mom.” I told her; the words never meaning so much. I ran up the steps.
For a brief moment, as I walked to my room, I thought that if I were to stop this now…end the madness…I might be able to get away clean, so-to-speak. I might be able to file this under “Crazy” and be done with it; just an awesome memory that would keep me jerking off for years to come. The thought was merely fleeting at best. The second I closed my bedroom door, my dick reminded me how useless it would be to try and stop now; knowing there was a chance that I might be able to...fuck my mother.
I sat up in my bed after bringing myself to a furious orgasm in record time. I was spent and didn’t feel like getting up to take a shower. Besides, I didn’t think I could take another encounter with my mom, so I just leaned over the side of my bed and grabbed my dirty shirt off the floor. I mindlessly wiped what cum I saw in the dim light, off my stomach and my chest. I even felt a little running down my cheek, I wiped that away as well as I thought about what might happen the next time I get a chance to climb that ladder. I was a little surprised that I hadn’t even noticed I’d cum on my own face. I wiped my hands, threw the shirt back on the floor and flopped my head back down on the pillow like a 100 lb. bag of sand. I sighed; a loud exhausted, content sigh. I would have liked to have laid there and made my plans, weighed my options, strategized…But I drifted off to sleep; the sweet smell of honeysuckle and thoughts of my sweet mom fading away as I closed my eyes.
I slept like a baby through the night, didn’t even open my eyes until 9:30 the next morning. Normally, someone might have woken up from such a sleep wondering if it had all been a dream, had it really happened, but not me. As I changed my underwear, I could plainly see the smeared lipstick on the hard shaft of my dick. (My dick knew little softness these days) I stared at it; sat on the edge of my bed and gawked. I ran a finger over the reddish marks and shook my head with disbelief. Before I knew it, I closed my fingers around it and started to move my hand up and down like it was just part of my everyday routine. Up in the morning-Jerk off-Brush your teeth-Get some breakfast. It was a matter of seconds before I was flat on my back with my head filled with images of my mother. The way her hair smelled and how soft her skin felt when I’d kissed her good night. I pictured her sucking my dick, the way her pretty lips looked and felt around it, the way she’d hesitated for that quick second…and then given into her lust and took me into her mouth.
When I was done, I got my shit together as best I could and headed downstairs to take a shower. Clean and refreshed, I made my way to the kitchen for some breakfast. I stopped at the threshold and watched my mother empting the dishwasher. My dick (Which only knew two stages now- Hard and semi-hard) began its little dance. I swear to Christ, that impediment between my legs was becoming more and more like an unruly child every day. It seemed that every time it saw what it wanted, the tantrum began…And he was relentless. Any like most kids...a good spanking didn't seem to help much.
The words she’d blurted out in the bathroom… "I want to fuck"…burned in my ears. I thought of the note. I saw the words she written as clearly as I saw my mother bending over now in the kitchen. “The note!” I thought. “My pants!” I turned towards the stairs, “Jesus Christ!”
I dug the pants I’d been wearing the day before yesterday out of the dirty clothes basket in my room. I fingered the pockets until I found it. I pulled it out, opened it…and stared at the words.
My mind drifted a little as I pictured my intervention…
Friends and family, all sitting nervously in the living room, their eyes filled with concern; some contempt; my father with that “You little son-of-a-bitch” look on his face, the school counselor, the pastor from our church, a fragile looking old guy with a gray beard, pen and pad in hand, that could only be the physiatrist, and two strapping guys, (One holding a rope) that looked like professional wrestlers, sitting just off to the side. (Muscle…In case things went badly) It would turn into an “angry mob” lynching sure as my dick knows no boundaries.
I took the note. Unwilling to through it away, I decided to never let it leave my possession. I folded it into a small square, pulled my wallet from my back pocket, and stashed it behind a picture of my mother and then made my way back down stairs.
She seemed in good spirits.
“Want some eggs?”
“Yeah, sure, that’d be great.”
"Your aunt Jenny is coming over this morning.” Mom announced as she pulled the carton of eggs and the butter out of the fridge. Eggs in one hand, butter in the other, she kicked the fridge door closed with a graceful sweep of her foot. I watched her every move, I watched and listened as she told me,
“Yeah, we’re gunna hang out today, catch up a little…maybe swim for a bit.” She says, cracking an egg into the frying pan.
I sat back and pictured my mom and aunt frolicking in the pool in their tiny bathing suits; splashing, rubbing up against each other. It didn’t take long before I was imagining them caressing each other’s tits and then doing away with their bathing suits all together.
“Tommy…Tommy?” I heard my mother’s voice from a million miles away.
I turned my head to find her standing in front of the stove, spatula in hand, “Earth to Tommy…” she smiled. “Thinking about that little Cathy Bickers again, are you?”
No ma, just picturing you making-out with your sister, naked in the pool… I thought, a half smile nervously forming at the corner of my mouth.
My attention immediately leaped to the lump in my lap where, (Hidden by the table, thank God) my hand had taken up permanent residence. Hoping to explain away anything odd my mother may have noticed…I shook my head “Yes”. It would seem that Cathy Bickers was going to be my failsafe excuse for any incoherent moments, spontaneous bulges in my pants and any otherwise odd behavior for the foreseeable future.
“You should ask her out.” She tells me as she slips two pieces of bread into the toaster and pushes it down.
By the time Mom had delivered my breakfast, I had explained how I could never do that. Cathy was “…out of my league.”
She mussed my hair and told me that was nonsense, “You have a lot to offer a girl.” She tells me with a smile I found both beautiful…and somehow curious. I nearly choked on my eggs.
There was a lot of crazy shit going through my head. She was hard to read. Was this some kind of reference to what she’d held in her hands last night; to what she’d hesitantly wrapped her lips around? I had no way of knowing for sure. I’d have to stow away in the garage and listen in on my mother and Aunt Jenny and see if I could get some insight into this whole crazy thing. It would be nice to hear both sides of the conversation for once.
Things couldn’t have worked out better. Aunt Jenny showed up about noon, sashaying nonchalantly through the garage door. My first thought was that I was glad I wasn’t perched out there on the workbench when she walked through the garage. My second thought…My aunt’s pretty hot.
She had a short terrycloth robe on that barely went down to the bottom of her ass, her hair pulled back into a tight ponytail that sat high on the back of her head, her sun glassed pushed back, resting on the top of her head. My eyes roamed the length of her body and settled on her pretty face. She looked like she had way too much makeup on for a day of swimming in the pool…but what did I know.
Dad said his hellos and goodbyes. My little sister hugged and kissed our aunt before dad herded her out to the car and took her to the mall to get a new pair of cleats for soccer. He asked if I wanted to ride along. I declined of course and told him; (In ear shot of my mother and Aunt) that Jimmy and I were gunna head on up to Greenbrier Park to do some skating.
I leaned into the living room and asked Mom if she wanted me to take the ladder and put it back in the garage before I left. She blushed, and told me not to worry about it. She still had some washing to do on the siding. “…some tuff stains…” she said. “I’m going to have to spray some Clorox on them and let them sit. I meant to do that last night” she told me. “…but I got preoccupied.” She added in a lower, more lighthearted tone. If she was bothered or even regretful of anything that had happened in the last few days…it didn’t show.
I wanted to give my mom a little kiss goodbye before I left “for Jimmy’s”, but thought twice. I didn’t want to take the chance that Aunt Jenny might be just a little more insightful than Mom as far as any inappropriate body language or unfitting lingering…Not to mention this whole boner-in-my-pants thing. Besides…I was worried that Aunt Jenny might be just brash enough to call me out on anything that seemed… “out of place”.
By noon, I was comfortably (If not nervously) perched on the workbench as Mom slipped off her flip-flops and Aunt Jenny dropped her terry cloth robe and waded into the pool. They were quite the sight. Aunt Jenny had a flattering one-piece on, white with some kind of light-blue flowers that swept from her tummy to over one shoulder. Mom….Mom had on her bikini. The top looked like it was trying to spit out her tits while the bottom looked as though it was hanging onto the roundness of her ass like a rock climber desperately hangs onto the side of a mountain. I watched, listened, and waited. It was hard hearing as they swam towards the deep end but as I controlled my heavy breathing, I could hear them whispering.
“So have you confronted him?”
“Why not? This is what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it? For him to, you know…get it together.”
Mom slipped under the water and swam back to the shallow end; back towards me. Aunt Jenny sighed and then followed. Mom swept her wet hair back, wiped the water from her face, and adjusted the top of her bathing suit around her lovely tits. Aunt Jenny surfaced beside her. They stared at each other for a long second. In my world, they would have leaned into each other, parted their wet lips, and fallen into a soft but deep kiss that would have quickly turned into something that would have made my dick explode…Literally. But that wasn’t the case. They stood there, less than a foot between them, quiet; my mom looking for words…my aunt waiting to hear them. And then…At the same time…Aunt Jenny’s mouth and mine…dropped open.
“It’s not him.” My mother says; concerned that her sister might freak, yet at the same time, on the verge of giddiness none-the-less.
“What do you mean, it’s not him?”
“I mean, it’s not him.”
“I think I would know my own husbands cock Jenny. I mean, true…I don’t get to see it all that often, but believe me, the cock that came through that bathroom window last night…was not his.”
“Holy shit” Was her sister’s response followed by a quick and bewildered, “Well…Well then, who the hell’s cock was it?” After a second she added with a big smile, "Was it bigger?"
Mom shrugged and waded towards the steps shaking her head; not sure she should say it…knowing how crazy it sounded…but she said it anyway. “I don’t know who it was.” She told her sister matter-of-factly unwilling to turn and look her in the eyes right away. Then she smiled and whispered, "It was a pretty nice one." and turned to head out of the pool. My aunt watched her as she walked up the steps and made her way to her towel. Aunt Jenny followed closely behind.
“Angie?” She called out as she stepped up real close to her sister. “What-da-ya mean you don’t know who it is? Are you…”
My mother cut her off, “Jenny, I know what you’re thinking. Don’t you think I’ve thought the same thing? I’m crazy…I know.” She told her sister. There was no hint of uncertainty in her voice. “I realize how it sounds. I realize how…” Mom stopped abruptly.
Aunt Jenny put a sympathetic hand on her shoulder and spun her around to pull her into her arms.
“I know it’s insane.” Mom went on as her sister held her. “…but it’s…it’s amazing Jenny. I don’t have words for it.” She told her sister; shrugging her shoulders again, showing that she didn’t understand it any more than her sister did.
“How ‘bout hot…or exciting? Do those words work?” Aunt Jenny asked with an understanding smile and a gleam in her eyes.
Mom smiled back, a shaky smile, realizing that her sister was beginning to understand. I watched her shake her head, tiny little shakes, as her smile grew.
Although Mom didn’t really need to, she went on to explain how empty she’d been feeling, how unsatisfied, how lonely she’d been for such a long time. As a matter-of-fact, she went on and on and on. It was really pretty heart wrenching. “…until this.” She finally said.
“But Honey…” Her sister looked concerned again. “…Suppose he’s…I don’t know…crazy or something?” she finished.
Her question hit home with me. From outside, I’m sure it would seem like I was. Hell…from inside, it wasn't looking so great for me.
“You know” Aunt Jenny continued, “This has the potential of going really bad.” She stated the obvious. And once again, she was right on the mark. This whole thing had the same potential for bad as sliding down a sandpaper sliding board naked into a kiddy-pool filled with gasoline with a box of matches strapped to each cheek of your ass...and it would take a long time to put that fire out.
“I know Jenny, I know.” Mom agreed. “I don’t know how to explain it…But I just have a feeling if he was gunna do something to me, something bad…I think he’d have done it long before now.” She reasoned.
“But he’s peeking in windows.” Aunt Jenny reminded her.
“I think that maybe…maybe he’s as lonely as I am.” was Mom’s response. (Shaky ground, for sure) “And the way it makes me feel…The…the orgasms…” She whispered leaning into her sister, “…the way I cum…Jesus Jenny…It leaves me so drained I can't move.”
They sat around the tiny table silently, reflecting for a while, until my aunt asked my mother if she had any suspicions, “Who do you think it could be?” She asked my mom.
“I…I don’t know…One of the neighbors? The mailman? Maybe its Brian.” She speculated, nodding towards the neighbor’s house. (Brian Weathers lived next door. He and his wife had been over to countless BBQs)
“He would certainly know the lay-of-the-land, as it were.” Aunt Jenny agreed.
“He seems to pay a lot of attention to me when he and Beverly come over.”
“Sweetie…” Her sister said, “…All men pay a lot of attention to you at those BBQs.” She informed her.
“Not this much!” Mom giggled.
They sat there for a little bit before Aunt Jenny spit out the words that I so desperately hoped would be left unsaid.
“Did you ever thing it might be someone a little closer?” She asked my mother in a very low and suggestive voice not wanting to be characteristically blunt.
“Tommy.” She blurted out.
My mother’s eyes narrowed as she looked at her sister, obviously processing the notion. After a long and seemingly painful few seconds, Mom shook her head slowly. “No way…” she whispered slowly, softly. I couldn’t tell if she was dismissing the idea wholeheartedly…or if she was getting her head around the possibility.
I felt like a first-time skydiver staring out the open door at the vast world a million miles below me; unsure if I was gunna end up curled into the fetal position under one of the seats waiting to land or if the instructor was gunna push me out. I held my breath.
“I’m his Mother.” She finally said, the short sentence both a question and a statement.
Aunt Jenny snickered and placed a loving hand on her sister’s knee. “He’s a boy Sweetie.” She told her matter-of-factly. “They have dicks, ya know.” She patted my mother’s knee a few times and then rubbed it the way an elderly grandmother might do after passing on words of wisdom. And then she said something to my mother that somehow let me breathe a little easier…
“Ya know Sweetie, in the big scheme of things…there’s worse things.” She shook her head knowingly. “…More threatening things too.” She added.
"Worse than my son wanting to have sex with me?" she asked as if she couldn't imagine what could be any worse.
"Much worse." Aunt Jenny declared. "Much worse." She said again to make the point.
They sat quiet for a little while. Feeling I’d heard enough and not wanting to take the chance of being caught up on the workbench when my father and sister got home, I slipped down and headed to my room. With Dad and my sister gone and my aunt and mother in the backyard sleuthing, I figured I would go to my room and give this whole thing some more thought. Wouldn’t-ya-know-it, it wasn’t long before one thought lead to another and I was pulling my dick to the image of my mother laying on the bathroom floor with that big rubber dick sliding in and out of her sweet pussy. The only thing different…Her sister was sucking on her luscious round tits while she did it.
I have to be honest; where most kids might have figured they were getting too close to the fire…I seemed to be content with the heat. I should have stopped while I was ahead, closed up shop, as-it-were, especially considering that Mom was now “Dr. Watson” to aunt Jenny’s “Sherlock Holmes”. Just doing what I was doing pretty-much showed I had all the brightness of a 2-watt bulb. I couldn’t possibly keep this charade up for too much longer, but I didn’t really care I guess. The thought that I could very-well be feeling my mother’s hot wet coochie around my always-hard dick pretty soon seemed to be reason enough to put it all on the line. This was an obsession, full-blown, and like a strung-out junkie standing mid-day on the corner in front of the police station trying to score just one more bag, nothing else much mattered.
I decided on somewhat of a plan. Since my mother had left it so vague, (“I want to fuck”) I wasn’t really sure exactly how to go about getting my dick into my mother. I decided that next time I set out to spy on her, I would leave HER a note. I grabbed a pen and a slip of paper and sat at my desk. Tell me what you want me to do, I wrote. I stared at the note for a minute or so before I realized that I was an idiot. Like she don’t know your handwriting, I whispered out loud as I shook my head. I quickly typed and printed out the note. My plan was simple, Next chance I got, I’d take in the show (At the glamorous “Bath Room”; where the lighting, acoustical overtones and the sheer ambiance, far overshadow the limited seating and restricted view) and then slip the note in the crack of the window and hope that the next time I get to watch…there’s a response waiting for me on the sill like last time (Assuming SHE finds the note and no one else) In hind-sight, my plan seems a little risky.
As it turned out, I didn’t have to wait very long for the opportunity to slip into the back yard and park myself outside the bathroom window. That very night, my sister was engrossed in a movie on the living-room couch and God saw fit to make it rain. Dad was confined to the house (His room actually) at his desk, working on his computer. But it would take more than a little rain to keep me away from the bathroom window.
At 9:00, I heard Mom call out to my father and tell him that she was going to take her shower. The tone in her voice was misleading. It sounded as though she were letting him know so that he could do whatever he needed to do to get outside the bathroom window for their secret get-together , but I knew better; we both knew better. We both knew that it wasn’t my father that had been peeping on her. I made it a point to head to my room so that I would pass my mother on the steps. We looked at each other; again, a hard read. It looked to me like she might be sizing me up, perhaps thinking about what her sister had said to her…perhaps a guilty conscience on my part…Who knows?
“Not going over Jimmy’s tonight?” she asked holding tightly to the rolled up towel under her arm.
It may have been me, but it seemed she’d asked more like a cop than a wondering mom.
“Nah, it’s raining.”
“Your dad could bring you…if you really wanted to go, I mean.” I saw her fingers flexing on the covered dildo snuggled in her armpit. Nervousness…anticipation…Hard to say.
I got the feeling she was trying to get rid of me…maybe my father as well. Maybe she was concerned that one of us might wander outside at the wrong time and catch her Peeping Tom. Maybe she just wanted to make sure that I was over Jimmy’s and my dad bringing me there would prove that that was indeed where I really was. That way, if her new friend were to show up at the window…it would be proof positive, in spite of what her sister had implied, that it wasn’t me…her son…who’s dick she’d sucked the other night. I briefly wondered what that knowledge might do to her.
“Naaah, I got about 15 emails I haven’t answered and I haven’t checked my Facebook for a few days. That should keep me pretty busy for a little while.” I told her.
“Tommy?” She said as if she wanted to ask me something, but seemed to change her mind. I got an impulse, an urge, to touch her arm, tell her everything was OK, tell her not to worry. But how could I tell her that after all that had happened; all that I’d done. I hurried to my room and just stood outside the door.
When I heard the bathroom door shut, I made my way quietly and swiftly to the garage. Stopping for a brief second to listen at the bathroom door, I heard some rustling around and new I’d better hurry. I snatched a plastic poncho that hung on nail by the door on my way out, stuck my head through the opening and stepped out into the wet night. I hurried around back to the window. I was just about to step up onto the ladder when the window slid open. I took a silent step back and froze.
I saw the blinds move and got ready to run. They moved side to side a bit and then fell still. I waited for the window to close again, but it didn’t happen. I waited in the rain unsure of what to do; my weight leaning towards the side gate and one hand in my pocket, white-knuckled fingers clenching the note I’d printed out. I was ready to pull it from my pocket in the blink of an eye and eat it if necessary to keep it from falling into enemy hands. Then…Like a little kid waking early on Christmas morning with the hope of finding Santa by the fireplace munching on cookies and milk, the thought shot into my head. She was opening the window…FOR ME! She was opening the window as she’d done the last time, so that I could stick my hard dick through the blinds for her.
I approached the ladder like a rat approaches a trap. I wanted to leap up those steps, rip the blinds out of my way and leap into the bathroom. I wanted to show my mother that it was ME…and tell her everything; all the things I thought about her, all the things I wanted to do…but the last thread of sense that held all this together held me back. I swallowed hard, and slowly placed a foot on the bottom step of the ladder, and pulled myself up. I craned my neck and to my surprise…there was a small piece of paper wrapped in a plastic bag lying on the wet windowsill. Plastic baggie, I thought. Good idea. I was afraid to touch it as I had been afraid to touch the last one.
I stretched my neck a little further and peeked through the blinds. Mom had turned the shower on and taken her place in front of the mirror. She was fully naked; her nipples already full and hard. Either the anticipation or the cool breeze from the open window and the rainy night…it didn’t really matter; they were beautiful. I wanted to kiss them, trace over my lips with them…maybe close my eyes and softly press my cheeks against the fullness of each mound; first one cheek and then the other, gratefully, lovingly…the way you nuzzle your face into the soft ear of a loving dog you’ve had forever.
As I hear myself speak…I take note of the texture and sincerity of each word. They sound more like the words of someone in love rather than words of a depraved horny boy. Somewhere along the line…I guess something changed.
I watched in awe as, one by one, she pulled her makeup from her makeup bag and placed them on the vanity. I watched her apply each product, to her eyes, her face and then to her lips. Watching her move her lips, form an “O” with her mouth, trace over the fullness of them, leaving the creamy pink color, was like watching a “Slow motion moment” when the hot girl comes out of the pool dripping wet, her eyes closes, her head tilted back, her arms up, her hands pulling her wet hair back from her face. The close-up shows each cool water droplet as it finds its way around each curve of her face, rolls around each lip to slowly drip off her wet chin. It was easy to get lost in the moment. If anyone could see this seemingly simple thing, they would understand what motivates me, the reason I let it get this far, the reason I couldn’t turn back.
Every few seconds my attention was drawn to the wet plastic bag that held my mother’s note. She seemed to take great care putting on her makeup. Even though all of it would be washed off in the shower soon enough…she took the time, made the effort, to create a mood…to make herself even more beautiful; for a stranger...for someone that obviously made her feel like she was worth it, I suppose. She had no idea that she needn’t bother.
I silently slipped my fingers over the wet plastic bag as I watched her. As she pulled the brush slowly through her hair, I slipped the bag off the sill, opened it, and pulled the small piece of paper out. I opened it with shaky hands, glancing every other second at my mother, unwilling to miss even the smallest thing. With the note out of the plastic bag, I took the few seconds to read it before it was ruined by the rain.
Stick it through again when you’re ready for me, It said.
I don't know how long I stared at that note but I did until the words were too smeared to read any longer. When I looked through the window, my mother was finished brushing her hair. At that moment, I was unaware of the chilly rain, the fact that I was perched on a ladder outside the bathroom window, or that at any moment my father or sister could come out of the house and catch me doing something that I would never be able to explain. All I was aware of or cared about…was my mother. I carefully climbed two more steps, rested my hand on the top of the window frame and steadied myself. I unsnapped my jeans and with one hand I worked my throbbing cock from its nice warm hide-a-way. I kept it warm with my hand as I watched my mother.
I watched Mom go through her long seductive dance. More than once I had to release my hard dick and let the cool rain sooth it, keep it from bursting into flames. The last thing I needed on this dark rainy night was a signal fire. As Mom licked that rubber cock to get it wet and slippery, I slowly made my way up one more step bringing my hopeful cock about a foot above the wooden sill. I saw Mom cut her eyes towards the window as she kissed the very tip of that dildo. She drew her head back a tiny bit from the rubber cock. She stared at the pink lipstick that covered the tip and then seductively licked her lips. I could plainly see, with each heave of her breasts, that her breathing was getting heavier. I think mine had stopped all together. I felt a tightness in my chest that I was sure would soon cause unconsciousness and an unsteadiness in my legs that would make a long stay on the ladder pretty unlikely… I rested my upper thighs against the sill to steady myself. I felt the tip of my dick touch the wet coolness of the blinds.
I saw Mom cut her eyes again in my direction. She reached up with her free hand and grabbed the medicine cabinet. The mirrored door swung open. I could see the reflection of the window and vaguely make out my outline in its frame behind the slats of the blinds. I couldn’t imagine what she gunna get now. She slowly turned; the dildo in one hand, her other hand empty. She hadn’t taken anything out of the medicine cabinet. I cocked my head a little. Then I felt my jaw tighten, my teeth clench when Mom took a step towards the window. I assumed she was going to take her place on the toilet below me like last time and continue the ritual.
My entire being was one tight rubber band ready to snap. I didn’t think I could get more rigid, but even as the thought formed, my fingers dug tighter into the wet wood around the window. I could feel the paint cracking under my grip. My other hand froze, locked even tighter around my dick when Mom rested her elbows on her side of the windowsill. With the dildo flopping over in one hand and her forehead nearly touching the blinds just inches from where my dick threatened to peek through….Well…I couldn’t even swallow. I couldn’t even stroke my cock, and believe me…my cock needed some serious stroking…
I watched as the hand that held that rubbery cock briefly disappeared. Next time I saw it, it was framed by my mother’s ass cheeks, pointing at that hot moist spot that I wanted so badly. She rested her chin on the sill and I heard her softly moan as she lifted her ass slightly and began to push the fat head of my rival into her pussy. I watched, like a dream, as she started to work it in more and more; deeper into the slickness. I could hear the wetness of her pussy as it slipped in and out. I could even smell the faint alluring aroma of her hot coochie over the sweet fragrance of her perfume. It would seem that Mom was just as excited as I was. The only real difference…she seemed to have no trouble letting the occasional moan escape her where I was having a hard time even breathing.
As Mom began to work that long dildo in and out of her wet pussy, the squishing sounds echoed off the tile walls and her soft moans came through the open window like fingers to grab my swollen cock. It was then I glance at the mirrored door my mother had opened on the medicine cabinet. I could see clearly through the slats, the reflection of my mom’s ass as that rubber dick disappeared and reappeared, again and again. I watched as she brought her other hand around and with her long, delicate fingers, she took hold of her lovely ass cheek and pulled it away from the other. With her chin planted firmly on the windowsill, her sexy mouth inches from my rigid dick, she fucked herself slowly, methodically with that dildo; pulling it out, rubbing it along her ass-crack, making small circles, and teasing her clit with the tip before plunging it back inside her coochie. I could see all of this in the small mirror behind my mom.
She had obviously given this a great deal of thought. I was glad. More than glad. I was…was overwhelmed. A hundred thoughts rushes through my head but none of them took me away from the picture in front of me or the fact that I was about to cum all over the blinds and probably all over my mother’s face.
Unable to help myself any longer, I eased forward. I let my swollen boyhood part the thin slats of the blinds. I arched my back, leaning back as far as I could without falling. With my chin pressed against my chest, I could see my cock and my mother’s mouth through the same few slats. I pushed forward a tiny bit more and watched as Mom open her pretty mouth and welcomed her hard stranger.
“Mmmmmmm” she moans as her lips closed around me and the hot air that rushes out of her nose tickles my belly. I push harder, my stomach forcing the flimsy blinds further into the bathroom, my balls parting the slats allowing my mother access to all of me. My boldness is rewarded with a loud moan, a sweet kiss on the head of my slimy prick and a gentle but firm lapping of my blue balls. She sucked each one into her warm mouth in turn. Breathing hard, moaning and sighing, she did to my balls what I wanted to do to her huge tits. She rubbed them all over her face; kissed them, licked them and made love to them like they were a separate entity. Like she needed them.
And I suppose at that moment…she did. She needed this as bad as I did. This had become as much of an obsession for her as it had for me. Oddly enough; it made me feel like this was all OK. Like this was…normal.
There was no way that I was going to hold on any longer. With my balls deep in her mouth…I started to cum. A thick white rope shot from the tip of my thick cock and shot over her shoulder and onto her back. Mom quickly wrapped her fingers around my stiff shaft and began to pump it with some attitude. The next long rope ricocheted off her upper lip and splashed over her cheek and into her hair. She moaned and grunted as she wrapped her sexy pink lips around the tip of my cock and stroked and gulped down what she milked out.
There didn’t seem to be any concern about the noise we were both making or the fact that I was no doubt quite visible standing so high on that ladder silhouetted by the bathroom light. I held white-knuckled to the window frame, my knees shaking, flirting with collapse and hyperventilation. Mom had abandoned her fake cock and gave my spurting dick all of her attention and (For both of us, I think) there was nothing in the world except my cock and the cum that shot out of it. Mom lapped, kissed and swallowed with the occasional glob of thick cum escaping from the corner of her mouth. She quickly retrieved it, pushing it back between her lips with the head of my dick.
As the frenzy died down and the lust settled, Mom began a slow, seductive massage with her lips, up and down my cock. Giving it tiny little sucks and kisses, licking up any cum that had tried to get away. After a few minutes of this bliss, Mom kissed the base of my still-hard dick and kissed her way slowly to the tip. If she was doing this to keep me hard...there was no need. I knew full-well this puppy would never see another soft day. She released me and I watched as she licked every drop off her fingers and then searched around her mouth with her long sharp tongue for leftovers. Unwilling to end this…this…encounter, I boldly reached through the blinds with my hand, my arm, and slid my hand around to the back of her head.
“Don’t stop.” I whispered with a husky breath as I arched my back more and pulled her back to my cock. She smiled a teeny bit and opened her mouth to take me back in. I watched as the most beautiful woman in the world made love to her son’s cock with her mouth.
It wasn’t long before I became extremely aware of the fact that I was no longer hidden by the bushes. I was sure that my silhouette was as noticeable, if anyone were to look, as the Bat signal was to the citizens of Gotham City…but I truly didn’t care. And then, as if sensing the same thing…Mom pulled her lovely mouth off my dick, stepped back and flipped the light switch off. Before my eyes adjusted, I could feel my mother’s warm mouth around me again. The feeling made me let out a long soft sigh, like settling into your own warm bed after a long day of hard work. I rested my cheek against the soaked window frame and fell into the feeling my mother was giving to me.
I’m not sure how much time passed, but I felt my mother kiss the tip of my happy cock one last time and then she was gone. A sudden wave of…of sadness flushed over me. Damn, I thought. I didn’t want it to stop, but I figured she was right. We’d been at it for quite a while. I heard movement in the bathroom; things shifting, maybe something being dragged. I heard what sounded like metal against metal. I pulled back a little and grabbed my pants. I was getting ready to button-up and high-tail it when I heard my mother’s voice.
“Don’t move.” She whispered.
As I squinted through the window trying to see, but there wasn't really enough light to see. I could make out the outline, the shape of my mother, each curve but that was all. I watched as she fumbled around but I wasn’t sure what she was doing. In less than a minute, I saw Mom’s hand reach through the blinds and take hold of my ever-hard dick. I gasped. My eyes focused on her hand and what it held. I watched as, this time, it was her that pushed against the blinds, pushing them out, out past the frame, threatening to rip them from whatever held them to the wall. With the light of the moon I could see what was happening. Mom had her ass half way out of the window, my dick tight in her hand, drawing it to her, guiding it, leading it to her needy cunt. In a sense...she was bringing it home.
When I saw what was actually happening and finally grasped the moment, I ripped the poncho off with one quick pull, pushed my pants down well out of the way, and lunged forward nearly falling through the window. (Which would have in no way stopped me. My mother either I think) My cock slid in easily and completely as Mom groaned and softly cried out over the running water, “Oh fuck yyyyyeahhhhh.”
Hearing her words so clearly swung the gate open and let the bull out to buck. There was an orgasm somewhere deep inside my mother…and I was gunna find it. I stuck both hands through those blinds and filled them with the softness of her firm ass; squeezing to the point that my fingers hurt. I gave no concern to the marks I must be leaving on my mother’s smooth ass and apparently, neither did mom.
“F-u-c-k me!” fluttered from the dimness and floated out the window in a long low, annunciated growl. “Oh god yes…Fuck me!”
I’m a good boy and I did what I was told. I slammed into my mother; the blinds bending and crinkling, the window rattling as my forehead slapped the raised window, my mother gasping and me biting my lip and trying, the best I could, to draw in enough air through my mouth. I heard stuff falling on the floor; no doubt what ever was on the back of the tiolet or the makeup on the sink vanity. A few times Mom’s footing seemed to slip and she flirted with falling off whatever she was standing on. She recovered without skipping a beat but to be honest, at that point, I had such a firm grip on her ass and my dick was so deep inside her, I believe I could have held her there with her legs hanging limp, slapping against the wall as I fucked her.
I should have been concerned about the loud slapping sounds that echoed of the walls and pushed their way past me each time our bodies met…But I was busy. I was sure that the sporadic moans and gasps that my mother couldn’t seem to control would draw concern by anyone passing in the hallway…But I didn’t care. Mom was pushing into me as best she could considering the position she was in. I shook a leg free from my soaked pants and brought a knee up to rest on the wet sill for better leverage. I was all but in the bathroom now and Mom was all but outside.
It was like sticking your hand in the cookie jar and wrapping your fist around a hand full of cookies. You can't pull your hand out. And I wasn’t about to give up the cookies.
I had worked my hands to Mom’s waist and was pulling and pushing frantically.
“Oh Jesus! Do it! Yes do it!” Mom groaned. “Holy fuck!”
Her words were hardly more than hollowed gasps, thin and whispery like the steam that now fogged the mirror and the glass of the window, but they were like a bolt of lightning to me. The thought that I was making her say such things…I was the one fucking her good and hard, hard enough to make her feel this good, good enough that she couldn’t keep the passion inside …Well…There are no words to paint that picture, no way to share that feeling.
That second load was working its way to the exit. I could feel Mom’s tight pussy sucking on my crazy cock like a plunger on a stopped-up sink. We pushed and pulled at each other, ground and rocked and somewhere in midst of rattling windows, broken blinds, hot, wet slamming flesh, and, lustful moans of sinful pleasure…we both reached the place we'd been running to.
Mom froze, her whole body becoming ridged. I felt her sopping pussy clamp down on my dick like an angry fist. I held tight, ground into her, my pubic hair tickling her asshole, arching as much as I could, using her as a counter weight. I held her firmly, strongly, if not brutally by the hips, rocking my ass ever-so slightly until her contractions released that orgasm I’d been hunting so franticly for. Her hot juices washed over and around my throbbing cock and drenched my tired balls and ran down my thighs to the rainy windowsill. My cock burst inside her causing her ass to jump and quiver and push back even harder. We hardly moved as I emptied my load so deep inside my mother there was no doubt in my mind that she could taste it. A low humming, a constant whine escaped my mother as I felt her body start to limber. I held her tight in my grip as the last of my load found its place.
As the last of bliss drained away and the real world took its place, I began to feel the full weight of my mother on the other side of the window. Remembering the effect that each hard orgasm I’d seen my mother have had on her when she’d pleasured herself, made me realize that we were gunna have a problem pretty soon if Mom didn’t get to steady ground. I no sooner had the thought that I felt my mother slipping away. With my face pressed hard against the window, one knee planted precariously on the wet, slippery wooden sill and the ladder (With one foot on it, my soaked pants dangling from around my ankle) shaking beneath me, I tried as best I could to ease my mother down; down to the floor. I could hear her trying to catch her breath, but it seemed like she had surrendered to gravity's pull. It didn’t feel like she was making any attempt to catch herself or make her way down off of whatever she was standing on. The toilet with one foot I figured, but had no idea what her other foot was on if anything. I was more than halfway in the window when Mom slipped from my grip.
I lunged to get a better grip but when I did, the ladder fell away from the house. I hit the ground with a lung emptying thud. I heard Mom let out a small yelp and then more stuff hit the floor. I jumped up, wet bark dangling from my bare ass, my wet pants tangled around my feet, and pulled myself up to the window. I was just about to ask her if she was alright when I heard my father at the door.
“You OK Babe?”
Mom answered quickly. "I’m fine. I just slipped getting out of the shower Hun. It’s kinda dark in here.”
“Yeah, the light bulb went out in here, ya think you can get me a new one?” She asked, barely able to talk with any real volume. “They’re in the pantry, third shelf.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll get it…You sure you’re OK?”
“Yeah Sweetie…Never better.” She told him.
It was obvious that Mom was all right. I wanted to say something. Bye…Thanks…Had a swell time…Something, but I took the opportunity to scram. With any luck, I’d be able to sneak upstairs while Dad changed the light bulb and Mom got dried and dressed.