URL: http://web.archive.org/web/20130723065940/http://www.literotica.com/s/the-mom-memories-ch-05
Author: alwayswantedto
Title: The Mom Memories Ch. 05
Tags: The Mom Memories Ch. 05, alwayswantedto, mom, son, mother, younger male, older female, milf, mature, cuckold, incest novella, mother/son

Summary: Secret group exchanges maternal memories.

All characters are 18 years or older.

------------------------------------------

From Ch. 04

That was it. The search for more letters from Frank and Francis had to wait. I needed
to find Mom and convince her to put Dad to bed early. I left the study in search of
Mom, unconcerned about the obvious bulge in my pants, or that we had just finished
feeding him his dinner less than an hour ago. I was geared up for a sperm attack of
my own.

------------------------------------------

I almost went straight upstairs, thinking Mom might still be having a nap with Dad,
but there she was, sitting in the corner of the living room, fully clothed in a conservative
white dress with a pleated skirt that fell below her knees, her legs covered by matching
stockings. Immediately, I feared she had regressed, that I had made a mistake rushing
down to read more letters instead of making sure she didn't react adversely when it
sunk in that she had actually let me fuck her.

"Hello David," she greeted me, smiling, I imagine, at my surprised and disappointed
look. "You seem a little unhappy. Don't you like my dress?"

"Well, uh, Mom, I thought we were going to be a little less, uh, formal. You know,
I thought you were going to dress more casually from now on."

"This dress is casual, not fancy, but very comfortable," she protested.

"Mom, you know what I mean. We talked about it," I shot back.

"Is it the stockings? You don't like them?" She bent her knees and pulled her feet
up to rest them on the coffee table in front of her, then swiveled her legs, held
tightly together, from side to side, displaying her lower legs and the white stockings
that covered them. "I like them. I think they make my legs look nice and yet they're
very utilitarian," she said, opening her knees and examining the inside of her calves.


Opening her legs provided a view up her dress. I could now see the stockings were
knee-highs that accented her bare thighs, drawing my attention to what I knew lay
further up in the darkness of her skirt. My cock stirred.

"Or is it the dress?" she suggested, standing up and twirling slowly beside me, coming
to rest facing me, a quizzical smile on her face. When I didn't respond she continued,
"You didn't really think I was going to lounge around like we were in some olden time
bawdy house, did you?" Her querying expression and smile broadened.

She stepped up close to me. "David," she used my formal name again, "what happened
upstairs was a special thing for your father. You can't believe it will go on after
he gets better, or for that matter, if he doesn't. You don't, do you?"

"No, I guess not," I responded, my face downcast, my voice sullen.

"You know I'm doing that for your father, and I know you're doing it for him too."
She grasped my hands and pulled them around to her back so that I was holding her
loosely in my arms, my hands resting lightly on her hips. She slid her own hands up
my sides, under my arms. "We can kiss for a while before we go up, to get you in the
mood, if you like." She raised her face up as she stretched up on her toes, pressed
her body against me and kissed me lightly on the lips, nibbling them before kissing
me again and teaseingmy mouth with her tongue. Soon, we were in a serious snog, our
tongues trading places in each other's mouth. I pulled my mouth from hers, panting
for breath. My hands had slipped up her back, holding her against me.

Mom smiled, a sweet smile. "Getting in the mood?" she asked. I nodded earnestly. She
may have been dressed in an outfit suitable for church but she still was definitely
all woman. She seemed pleased at my mute response.

"I thought you might want to get Dad to bed early so I rushed home after shopping
for this outfit." She looked down at her dress. I nodded appreciatively, not wanting
to show any disappointment in her choice.

Mom's smile grew. "I wasn't sure if you'd like the dress, but I thought you might
like what was under it."

"Yeah, Mom," I agreed, "the white stockings are kind of sexy."

"Oh, you like them now, do you?" I nodded. "But that's not what I meant silly," she
pulled closer to me and kissed me again. Her arms circled my neck and she stretched
up to whisper in my ear, "Why don't you look? I think you might get in an even better
mood if you see what's under my dress." She kissed my ear, swirling her tongue quickly
around its edge before nibbling on the lobe. "Go on," she whispered, "unzip me."

I unhooked her dress and pulled the zipper down. I didn't rush. I was learning to
take my time. As I neared the small of her back, I realized that she was wearing a
slip underneath, but it had to be short because I hadn't noticed it while looking
up her skirt. I ran my hands up and down her back, slipping under her dress at the
bottom to let my fingers stretch out over the swell of her buttocks, then rubbing
the sides of her breasts on the upswing. She allowed me a few moments to caress her
this way.

"Take it off, David," she whispered in my ear, "take my dress off."

I slipped the dress off her shoulders, taking extra time to pull it away from her
breasts, letting my eyes linger there. My hands slid over her sides and tummy as I
pushed the dress down and over her hips. With a final shove, I let it fall to the
floor. Stepping back, I admired my reward, the real reason she'd gone shopping.

She looked stunning, her face flushed and her hair a little messy from our necking
session, clad in her white knee highs and a short, strapless slip held up only by
her breasts, the material clinging to her body over her hips and ending just four
inches below her groin. Her thighs looked incredibly sexy, their bareness emphasized
by the knee highs below and the slip above. My eyes were drawn to their juncture.
Was she wearing panties? I pulled my eyes up, along the open gap between her breasts
laid bare by the low, low neckline, then from side to side as I realized she wasn't
wearing a bra, as evidenced by the stubby nipples poking up under the silky white
material.

"Does this help your mood, Davy?" she asked, huskily, her eyes twinkling as she arched
her breasts toward me.

I pulled her to me, kissing her and then lowering my face to her bosom. She pried
my head off the swell of her breasts after just a brief moment of joy. "No, Davy.
Only in front of your father. Are you ready to go upstairs already?"

I nodded my head vigorously.

"Alright then," she took my hand and led me upstairs. At the door to her room, she
stopped and turned to kiss me again, allowing my hands to roam over her body. "Are
you ready to do what we have to do?" I nodded enthusiastically. "Can you act like
you really want to?" I nodded vigorously again.

"Well, get undressed then."

Mom watched as I turfed my clothes in record time. As I pulled my underwear down,
she stopped me. "Whoa, tiger, not too far. She flashed me a big smile but before I
could pull my shorts back up she reached in and grasped my hardness in a light grip,
sliding her soft hand up over the head and squeezing it before letting it go. "You
going to pretend to fuck me with that?" She turned, opened the door and walked toward
her bed where Dad lay propped up on the pillows. I followed, dressed only in my undershorts,
my cock poking up above the waistband. Pretend? She was going to act like we were
pretending?

Mom walked directly to Dad. "Time for lights out, Ron." She stooped slightly to give
Dad a light peck on the cheek while she fussed with his covers. "Oh honey, your lips
are so dry." She pulled the drawer of the night table out and rummaged around in it.
"Oh dear, we don't have any chap sticks. Oh well, this will work." She pulled out
a little jar of vaseline. Leaning over Dad, she put some on her finger and dabbed
it on his lips. Then she started to get up on the bed beside him but stopped to look
at me over her shoulder.

"You'd best get up behind me, dear."

Mom clambered up and over Dad's legs, kneeling beside him to apply more vaseline to
his lips. I crawled up behind her, and placed my hands tentatively on her hips, somewhat
uncertainly given the authoritative role she had assumed ever since I came out of
the study. She turned to look at me when she felt my touch, glancing down at my shorts.


"It won't look real if you're wearing those," she admonished me. She turned back to
Dad as I awkwardly yanked my shorts down and off. As soon as I regained my position,
she turned back to look at me again. After a very brief smile, she looked down at
the hard cock jutting up toward her. "That's better," she said.

She twisted half around to face me. I thought she wanted to be kissed so I readied
myself to take her in my arms but she surprised me by reaching down to grasp my cock
in her hand. What a feeling! Her fingers were like sinewy tendrils snaking around
my prick. Her slippery hand stroked up and down several times before she turned back
to face Dad, stroking his lips with the same vaseline covered fingers that had just
lathered my rod. This fascinating, unpredictable woman was much more exciting than
the one I'd had this afternoon. Looking down at my hardened tool, I could see the
sheen of vaseline all over it.

She turned to be once more, grasping my tool, stroking it again. I watched her work.
This time I could see her working a large gob of petroleum jelly all over my shaft
and up to twist and swirl her little palm around the head. Try not to come, I thought.
I prayed I wouldn't come too soon. Did she want to masturbate me in front of Dad?
Had she refused to do that for him, with vaseline? Then why was she hiding me behind
her?

Mom was gazing into my eyes when I looked up. When my eyes met hers, she spoke, "There's
something that he never got to do." She paused. "I never let him ... and neither did
she!"

I couldn't believe it. She hadn't mentioned her name but I knew she meant Grandma.
Mom turned back to Dad and laid her head on his shoulder. Reaching back, she lifted
her slip up to expose her cheeks. Her ass was bare, she wasn't wearing panties. For
a few seconds, I admired this precious vision but then gave way to my rising excitement.
Leaning in behind her, I pressed forward, nudging my cock against her ass, squeezing
its head between her cheeks.

Mom turned her head quickly toward me. Was I mistaken? Had I gone too far?

"Put more vaseline on," she instructed me. I did as I was told, applying it liberally
and tossing the jar within reach beside me in case I needed it again. This time, I
used my hand to guide my cock between her cheeks, now a little slippery from the vaseline
I'd rubbed on them with my human spatula. I pressed in until I could feel myself nudge
against her forbidden hole. "Feel my tits," she whispered, her voice very hoarse.
Only then did I realize she was still looking back at me. She turned her head back
toward Dad as I reached around and grasped her breasts, filling my palms with hard
nipples and soft tit, the backs of my hands pressing against my father's ribcage.


I pulled on Mom's nipples each time I pushed my cock against her dark hole. Gently,
gently I tugged and pushed. I bided my time, enjoying working her tits, loving the
feel of my cock's head squeezing between her cheeks as its tip began to poke inside
her. After a seeming eternity, the head popped through the tight little ring, its
very first journey into the darkside. Old one-eye stared into the depths of her unexplored
cavern.

"Ohhhhhhhh," Mom let out a long sigh, no, a moan. Up to now she'd been silent except
for the odd quiet whimper. I continued my gentle shoving.

"Ohhhhhhhh, ohhhh, ohhhh," she became more vocal with each thrust. I maintained my
slow pace but I increased the length of my strokes, pushing more and more of my meat
into her. And that's exactly how it felt, like I was shoving this big piece of meat
into this incredibly exciting, tight, clutching cunt. But it was her ass, and the
very thought almost made me come.

I released Mom's tits and straightened up, pulling my cock out of her. Smothering
my steel cock with more gobs of vaseline, I quickly returned to her once forbidden
entrance which was now gaping open, not the tight virgin rosebud I'd first encountered.
Slipping in easily, stroking slowly at first, I increased my pace as Mom's gasps ratcheted
up my excitement, and hers. Within minutes I was moving as if it was a regular fuck.


"Unnnnggghhh, unnnnggghhhh, unnnnnngggghhhh."

"Ohhhhhh, uh, uh, uh, Ohhhhhhh."

I wasn't sure if was me moaning and mom grunting, the other way around, or both. We
were both panting and gasping loudly, that I knew. I was really pumping into her now,
holding her by her hips as I dug my cock into her ass, rocking her against Dad's chest.
I couldn't last much longer though I wished it would never end. What a fantastic feeling,
the tightness, the taboo, the abandonment, the power.

We were both grunting now, my pace urgent. I tensed my cheeks each time I reached
my depth in her, trying to get deeper, trying to swell my cock to fill her. Finally,
I burst. I had no control. My hips were lunging erratically against her ass, digging
into her, my feet urging me forward, increasing the power of my thrusts.

I fell off her, rolling over onto my back on the bed. Moments later, Mom pulled away
from Dad. "My god, my god," she said, stumbling off to the bathroom. I looked over
at Dad as she turned on the bathroom light.

Shock. He was looking right at me again. His lips were moving but no sound came out.
What was it? 'You bastard', was that it? Yes. He knew. He was aware!

I got up and while Mom was still in the bathroom, frantically grabbed a sleeping pill
from the drawer in the bedside table and shoved it down his mouth, forcing him to
swallow. You had your mom, you bastard, I thought. Now I'm going to have mine and
you're not going to ruin it for me. When Mom came out of the bathroom, Dad's eyes
were closed. I lay naked on the bed.

"Any reaction?" she asked.

"Nope," I answered nonchalantly.

"Oh," she seemed disappointed. "I'm going to sleep then," she said, "I'm tired."

She crawled up on the bed and collapsed face down between father and me. Looking down
at her slightly parted legs, covered in white stockings to above her knees, I grew
hard again. I got onto my knees, nudged her legs further apart and got between them,
reaching down to lift her hips up.

"God. Already?" she cried, incredulously.

I was panting already as I lined my cock up with her pussy, no foreplay. "I can't
help it," I panted, "I've got to ... pretend to fuck you. Dad should see how ... uh
uhhhh ... available you are."

I pushed my still slippery cock into her. She was so hot her pussy was steaming. She
gasped as I shoved myself home.

"Ohhhhhhh, Davy," she cried, "It feels so real."

I quickly came up to speed, ramming into her, feeling a sudden need to really fuck
her. Incredibly, we were both moaning in no time. The feel of my cock moving in her
cunt was unbelievable. My mother's cunt. I was fucking it. I was fucking her, again.


When I awoke the next morning, I turned to take Mom in my arms, ready for another
fuck, but she was gone. She wasn't in the bathroom or downstairs. There was a note
on the table saying she would be out until after lunch, and that I was to feed Dad.
I grabbed a coffee and headed for the study. The first letter I picked up was from
Grant.

-------------------------------------------

Hi everyone. My name is Grant and this is the story of my mother and me. My father
died at just 45 years old after a lengthy illness that took its toll on our family
so it was almost a relief that he was gone. After the funeral, Mom and I returned
home while my sister and her husband returned to their hotel. We were all tired and
wanted a break before heading for my father's celebration of life.

I took off my shoes and laid back against the arm of the couch resting my eyes while
Mom went to the kitchen to make some tea, though I suspect she was sneaking a hot
rum. I looked up when I felt Mom sit down at the far end of the couch. She was still
wearing her black funeral dress. She wasn't crying, but her head was in her hands.


"Are you ok, Mom," I asked, softly.

"Yes," she replied quietly, her head still in her hands. Looking up, she leaned toward
me, her twisting torso pressing against my knees. She sobbed. I grasped her shoulders
and pulled her through my knees to hug her. I consoled her for several minutes before
she shifted her weight to lay more comfortably on top of me, her head laying on my
stomach. My hands rubbed her back while I comforted her.

She made a soft, pleased sound each time my fingers tickled her neck so, without thinking
anything of it, I undid the top few buttons joining the lacy part of her dress behind
her neck. I brushed the lace aside and slipped my hands inside, softly tickling her
neck. She purred in response. After several minutes of this, Mom spoke, "Can you do
my whole back?"

I stretched my hands down over her back, digging in slightly with my fingers.

"No," Mom whispered, "inside."

I paused. "Inside?" I repeated.

"Yes," she replied, "it feels better."

I moved my hands to the top of her dress where the lace started and the zipper ended.
Slowly, I pushed the zipper down my mother's back, ready to stop the instant she indicated
that was far enough. I had to lean forward as the zipper neared her bottom and I could
feel myself pressing into her chest. She never spoke so I continued until the zipper
was all the way down, part way up the slope leading to her buttocks. Pulling my hands
back as I leaned back, I slipped them inside the lace again but this time spread my
fingers over her shoulder blades.

"That's better. That feels wonderful," Mom sighed.

I kept tracing my fingers lightly over Mom's shoulders. This time, she made pleased
sounds each time I reached lower on her back, deeper into her dress. After a while,
I was moving up and down her entire back, across her shoulder, over her bra strap,
down the groove in the middle of her back to the little valley just before the rise
to her buttocks, then down to her sides and up over her bra strap to her shoulders
again. Her purring sounds seemed to encourage me to reach toward the swell of her
cheeks and to dip into the curve of her waist, but I was afraid to go too far.

"Undo me," she said as my hands brushed over her bra strap for the fiftieth time.


"What?" I asked, not sure I'd heard her right.

"Undo me," she repeated.

I fumbled with her bra strap, twisting and pulling until she crooked her arms behind
her and undid the bra herself in a quick motion that I couldn't quite follow. Immediately,
her arms twisted up the other way and she pulled the shoulders of her dress down,
baring her upper arms as she dragged the bra straps down too. She wiggled about until
she was comfortable. When I didn't move, she wiggled again. I began moving my hands
over her skin once more. She wiggled slightly once last time, as if settling in, and
then emitted a long, pleased purr.

My cock grew like a balloon being blown up. It strained uncomfortably against my pants,
between the breasts I could feel pressing down on my legs. I moved my hands over my
mother's back in the same motions but it wasn't quite the same. Her bra was undone,
and I was acutely aware of it. And that changed everything.

Did I say the same? Well, that wasn't quite true. Although I was covering the same
ground, my fingers weren't lightly brushing over her skin anymore. Instead, I was
touching her, if that makes any sense. I was touching my mother, and though I couldn't
put my finger on it, the feel was different. My fingers rubbed on her skin, dragging
on her flesh, pressing and pulling.

At some point, I expanded my reach along her waist in a sensuous sweep to the sides
of her breasts which had previously been covered by her bra. Now, I slowed my probing
fingers, pressing in a just a tiny bit harder where the flesh bulged out from the
pressure of her weight. When I pushed my hands down her back I dug my thumbs through
the furrow along her spine, all the way to the bottom of her zipper, and then probed
a little further her under her dress until I could feel the beginning of another furrow.


"Say please," I gasped, then, "Keep saying it."

Mom began saying something. I couldn't tell what it was with the tomato in her mouth
but I just knew she was saying please, over and over again as I fucked her, never
letting her feet fall flat to the floor. I fucked into her in long, slow strokes.
Every once in a while saying, "Keep saying it," although there was no need, she was
moaning constantly into the tomato.

I couldn't maintain my slow pace, quickly increasing the tempo until I was slamming
furiously into her backside, hammering her cheeks, jamming my cock as far into her
pussy as I could. Her mouth clamped down on the tomato, squishing it in her mouth.
I reached down to grab her hair, gently pulling her head back and twisting her to
face the sink so the tomato juice would drip into the sink. Despite the intensity
of it, I fucked her hard like that for another two full minutes before flooding her
cunt with my spunk, reveling in the flood of her own juices as they washed over me.


Pulling my cock out of ehr, I picked up my shorts where they'd fallen to the floor
and walked naked upstairs to have a shower. I didn't know what would happen in my
Dad's room, and I didn't care. I knew I was going to have my mother again before we
went there. I wanted to see the look on her face when I pushed my cock into her.

I took a long shower. Wrapping a towel around my waist I exited the bathroom to see
my mother leave her room. She was wearing a white blouse and a black, pleated skirt.
The pantyhose made her legs whisper as she advanced to the stairs.

"Mom" I called. She stopped before taking her first step downstairs, her hand on the
banister. She took a step, placing her flat heeled pump on the first step.

"Mom!" I called again. She turned to look at me.

"I'm just going out for a while," she explained.

"No."

"No?"

"No," I repeated quietly. "Come here."

Mom slowly walked toward me. She was oddly sexy in her conservative white and black
outfit, almost nunnish. I walked forward, meeting her in front of her open bedroom
door, noting Dad sitting up on their bed from the corner of my eye.

I looked down at Mom, placing a finger under her chin to lift her face up to mine.
"I want you to stay home with me for a while longer," I said. Her eyes strayed back
to face my chest, her face falling with them.

"But Davy, I need to get out."

"Call me Ron." My voice was loud and firm.

"Ron," she copied me quietly, her hands sliding up to hold the outside of my arm,
her thumbs tracing the top of my biceps as her fingers brushed the corded muscle on
the sides. "I just need to go out for awhile."

Ignoring her statement, I went on, "I want to show you something," I said quietly
now, "about how lovely you are, about why other men want you so much."

She said nothing. She just continued to caress my arms. I reached around her arms
to start unbuttoning her delicate white blouse. "You know men want you, don't you?"
I asked as the swells of her breasts came into view, the rest covered by her bra.
She nodded. "Do you know why?" I asked, as I undid the last button and pulled her
blouse apart. She shook her head. I found the zipper of her skirt and dragged it down,
then pushed her skirt over her hips, letting it fall to the floor. Quickly, I moved
up to remove her bra and tossed them through the open door toward my father.

"I'm going to show you."

Putting my arms around her, I whispered, "You want me to show you, don't you?"

She nodded.

"Say yes if you really mean it."

"Yes," very quietly.

We walked, arms around each other, to my room. Inside, I told her to take off her
pantyhose and sit on my bed. Picking up on the spirit of things, Mom walked slowly,
exaggerating her hips movments, to the bed, pushed her pantyhose over her hips and
ass to her thighs while gyrating her buttocks in a slow roll before turning to face
me as she sat on the end of the bed.

"Show me your legs."

Mom pushed the panty hose down her thighs and over her knees. Then she peeled the
hose down each leg, raising each foot in the air until the hose fell off her feet.
When she finished, she crossed her legs and folded her hands on her thighs. Waiting.


"Sit back on the pillows."

Mom used her hands to backpedal to the pillows propped up against the headboard, naked
except for her panties. Leaning back, she smiled and enigmatic smile, her knees bent
and parted about a foot. Her toes curled up in anticipation of the next instruction.


I let my towel drop to the floor. My cock lurched as I walked slowly toward her, leaving
the door wide open.

"It's your legs, Susan," I revealed as I settled in between her feet.

She was only momentarily disconcerted by my use of her first name. "My legs?"

"Yes, your legs. I know you know you have nice legs, but you don't know the best part,
because you can't see it," I explained. "Lots of women have nice legs but very few,
almost none, have absolutely no dimples on the backs of their thighs, especially at
your age. You have the legs of a 24 year old woman."

My flattery was obviously well taken. "Look," I said, grasping her left foot and lifting
her leg, bending the knee to force her thigh back to her chest. "Hold your knee back,
and look," I instructed.

Mom grabbed her knee, pulling her leg back even further and straining her eyes to
look at the back of her thigh. I let my eyes wander down to her pussy, superbly outlined
by her panties stretched across it so tightly. I picked up her other foot and pushed
that leg back too.

"They're both perfect. Hold them both back." As she pulled that leg back too, I slipped
my knee under her ass as it lifted from the bed. I ran my hands up and down her thighs,
letting them come to rest on her pussy. "Feel them," I said, "feel for yourself."


As Mom brushed her fingers back and forth on her legs, I grasped the waist of her
panties and pulled them up over her ass. "Let's get rid of these," I said, pulling
them up her thighs and calves, over her feet, and off. Her legs were now together,
straight, held back against her tits, with her toes pointing to the wall behind the
headboard. Her pussy was very exposed, even though her legs were closed. "So beautiful,"
I whispered, pulling her feet over to rest on my left shoulder, leaning forward to
press her legs even tighter against her tits.

Her eyes were closed. "Now you know why I need you to keep your legs way back like
this." She nodded.

I grabbed my cock and placed it at her entrance, pushing in slowly as I held her legs.
Relentlessly, I shoved until I was completely in her. Placing a foot on each shoulder,
I leaned forward, pushing her knees right into her shoulder, then off beside her on
the bed. She was breathing very heavily, perhaps because it was difficult for her
to breathe in this position, or maybe partly because my cock was very deep in her.


I pushed even further, raising my knees from the bed, using my toes to keep myself
braced and letting my full weight push my cock in. And then I started, a whole body
fuck, driving my cock deep into her cunt on every powerful thrust. I pounded into
her like this until the exertion was too much for me. Her breathing was so harsh,
I'm sure it could be heard across the hall. I pulled her knees together above her
tits, straddled her hips with my knees, and began fucking her in earnest once more.
I really lunged into her, pushing her back toward the headboard. When it was in reach,
I slipped my hands under her knees and grasped the headboard, fucking her like that
for a few minutes.

Pulling her down the bed by her feet, I twisted her legs until she rolled over. Walking
up over her on my knees, I put my hands on her cheeks and spread them wide. Leaning
over, I let my spit drool down onto her hole and then rubbed my cock on it.

"No, no, not there," she cried.

"Ok, just in front of Dad then," I panted.

She didn't answer. I slid my cock back to plunge it into her pussy as she raised her
ass up to me. The promise of having her ass again cranked me up. I rammed into her
until I came. I don't know why that excited me so much. I hoped it wasn't because
she didn't want me to.

As much as I was hoping to have her ass that night, we didn't have sex for several
days. I was worn out. But I did read some more letters. That was becoming something
of an addiction. What would happen when I ran out?

