URL: http://web.archive.org/web/20130723065940/http://www.literotica.com/s/the-mom-memories-ch-09
Author: alwayswantedto
Title: The Mom Memories Ch. 09
Tags: The Mom Memories Ch. 09, alwayswantedto, mom, son, older female, younger male, milf, anal, reluctant, teasing, mother/son

Summary: Secret group exchanges maternal memories.

All characters are 18 years or older.

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

From Ch. 08

I wanked myself for the first time in ages after reading Colin's letter. I made sure
the cameras would record before going to bed, in case I slept in. I didn't want to
miss anything..

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

I slept in until almost noon the next day. There was nobody around when I wandered
downstairs which wasn't unusual. Mom was normally gone by this time, golfing or visiting
friends. Mary was likely around somewhere, possibly in Dad's room, and Paul was probably
at school, like I should be. I grabbed a quick cup of java and sauntered into the
study, still wearing just my pajama bottoms.

I turned on the monitor and loaded the surveillance program to see if anything had
happened this morning other than breakfast chit-chat. While the recordings were loading,
I shuffled through one of the newer bundles of letters. An update from Lorne distracted
me from watching the morning's recordings.

I first told you about Lorne in Chapter 7. He was the whiner who had tricked his mom
into believing his group of friends were getting some from their moms but he wasn't
because he was adopted. He had played this hand well enough that his mom let him kiss
her, touch her ass, and even rubbed herself on him when she got carried away necking
with him.

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

Hey, Lorne here. I haven't figured my mom out yet. I've had two chances to get close
to her. The first time she let me neck with her but wouldn't let me see her tits,
or commit to letting me take pictures like I told her the other guys got to do. Several
days passed before the second time when she let me stay home sick from my summer job.
She just wanted to talk to me about being with a woman but we necked anyway. With
her laying on top of me, she got carried away and rubbed herself on me until I came.
I'm not sure if she did or not, but I think so.

I don't know how far Mom will let me go. I'm sure she's only doing this because she
believes me when I say the other moms are and she doesn't want me to be the only one
left out. On the other hand, she waited days before letting me do something the second
time, and it's been over a week since then. She doesn't exhibit any remorse so I don't
think she's holding back because of guilt or anything like that, but she isn't exactly
keen either. By the time she let's me do something, I've got blue balls and I'm ready
to really have at her.

Thinking about what she'd said to me about women, I tried to be more aloof, to intrigue
the woman I was interested in, as she put it. So, hard as it was, no pun intended,
I decided to wait her out. This meant I was jerking off about four times a day. I
tried to be around her a lot but without paying attention to her. When I got the urge
to check out her body, I avoided her all together so she wouldn't catch me looking
at her all the time like I'd done the last time. Maybe this was the wrong approach
because, after all, when I'd done that before she had let me pretend to be sick and
came to see me after Dad left. But that was also after I said the guys didn't believe
I was getting anywhere. So I tried to convince myself that what really worked was
doing something unexpected, and avoiding her was certainly not expected.

So I was sitting in the living room reading when Mom came in with a basket of laundry
and began folding it and separating it into piles of mine, hers and Dad's on the couch.
I was sitting in Dad's chair in the corner and she positioned herself right in front
with her back to me, which wasn't where she usually stood when she did this. I couldn't
help checking her out when she bent over to get clothes to fold from the basket.

I tried to keep to my plan of not staring at her, or approaching her first, but it
was difficult. Mom was wearing a sleeveless blouse which showed off her nicely tanned
arms, and a pleated skirt which fell almost to her knees but still showed off her
nice legs, especially when she bent over to get stuff from the basket. Trying to be
discreet, I only looked when she was bending over but my glances became longer and
longer. But then, Mom was bending over longer and longer, evidently searching for
a particular item to fold. When I noticed this, I realized that Mom was trying to
attract my attention, quietly flaunting herself in a subtle way.

My attention then stayed on her even when straightened up to fold stuff, enjoying
the outlines of her legs, the shake of her breasts which I could see from behind and
to the side, and the toss of her hair when she stood up from retrieving an item. Every
movement she made was so feminine. I could feel my excitement grow as I became convinced
she was purposely putting on a little display for me.

I was surprised when she abruptly left the room but she returned just a few minutes
later with another basket full of sheets and towels just before I adjusted myself
to make it a little more comfortable for myself. I was pleased when she resumed her
activities right in front of me again, working slowly rather than with the brisk efficiency
she typically employed when doing housework. I certainly didn't want her to finish
any time soon, that's for sure, and I wished Dad had gone fishing instead of puttering
around in the yard.

Mom hadn't spoken to me the whole time she'd been folding clothes until she leaned
over and then paused, reaching back to lay her hand flat on her right cheek.

"Oh," she complained, "I'm getting old." She pulled her skirt to scratch herself and
then rubbed the hand up and down on her buttock, raising the skirt up high enough
on each pull that I could see her panties come into view.

I didn't say anything, my attention firmly focused on her backside. Mom didn't look
back, allowing me to watch at my heart's content, but I'm sure she knew where my mind
and my eyes were. After a minute of this display, she resumed her folding.

"So," she said, startling me out of my reverie, "Are your friends showing you a little
more respect now?"

"Respect?" I stumbled out.

"You know," she went on, "because now you can tell them you can do the same kind of
stuff they do." She didn't look back at me, as if she didn't want to look at me and
talk about it at the same time.

"Oh, that," I remarked as casually as I could. "I haven't really said anything."

Mom stopped, still not looking at me. "You haven't said anything?" She paused, then
started folding the same towel over again. "Why not?"

"I thought it that was kind of special, you know, just for you and me to know."

Mom stopped folding the towel again. I couldn't tell what she thought about that,
but I meant it. Even if I really was telling guys stuff, I don't think I'd tell anyone
about our last time together, about her rubbing herself on me. She started folding
again, same towel for the third time.

"They wouldn't believe me without proof, anyway," I added.

Mom finished the towel and leaned down to get another one, quickly this time, like
she usually did, and folded it just as fast.

"Go see if your father is ready for lunch," she said, grabbing a sheet and starting
to fold it.

When Dad came in, we sat down for some soup and sandwiches. Lunch time banter was
the typical daily fair until Mom suddenly struck out on a tangent, "John, you know
that fancy digital camera you have at work, are you using it much?"

"Nope," Dad replied.

"Is anyone else using it?" Mom queried further.

"I don't think so," Dad answered, "It mostly just lays around until someone needs
it, which isn't much. We haven't used it since the Denison project."

"Do think I could use it?" Mom asked, "I want to take some close up pictures of our
flowers. There so beautiful now. You could take it back if someone needed it."

"I don't see why not. I'll bring it home on Monday."

"Can't you get it today?" Mom asked, "I'd like to start tomorrow, it's supposed to
be nice out."

"Tomorrow?" Dad complained. "Can't it wait until Monday? I was going to take Lorne
fishing. We haven't gone for years."

"But I don't know how to work these new cameras and Lorne promised to help me. He
works all week. It's not fair for you to take him fishing, you know he'd rather do
that than stay and help me." Mom pouted at Dad. "Can't you drop in and get it this
afternoon so he can show me how to work it tonight?"

"Oh, alright," Dad gave in, as he always did when Mom wanted something. I guess I
was going fishing tomorrow, and showing Mom how to work a digital camera, something
I was looking forward to as much as fishing, given Mom's slow learning curve with
anything technical.

"We'll still get to go fishing, Lorne," Dad assured me, thinking I was actually looking
forward to killing fish and, knowing about Mom's difficulty with technology, probably
thinking better me than him.

After lunch, Dad went back outside and I returned to loll around on the couch, waiting
for Mom to finish folding her laundry. She showed up lugging the ironing board which
she proceeded to set up and started ironing, back to me again, after turning on the
TV. This wasn't nearly as entertaining as watching her fold laundry, mostly because
she didn't bend over to fetch things from the basket nearly as often. She did stay
bent over for longer though, supposedly needing more time to pick out the next thing
to iron, and she clearly wasn't going to finish anytime soon, so I didn't mind so
much.

We didn't talk. Mom didn't pick up our earlier conversation and I felt too awkward
to renew it, not knowing how to continue it along the lines that it had so abruptly
ended. Mom ironed and watched some talk show and I read and watched Mom whenever she
retrieved clothes from the basket. I was content.

Dad drifted through about an hour later, announcing that he was off to the office
to pick up the camera, kind of pausing, waiting I think, for Mom to say not to worry
about it and that Monday was fine. But she didn't. When he asked me to get off my
butt and cut the lawn, she insisted that I was helping her by answering her questions
about digital cameras. Dad obviously didn't want to interject himself into that one,
and left.

I was curious about Mom's little lie about asking me about cameras, but didn't say
anything. Clearly, she wanted to me to stay put, and I hoped it was to continue our
earlier conversation. Mom kept ironing and watching TV for several minutes after Dad
left.

"So you're still the low man on the stick with your friends, then?" she suddenly broke
the silence, though in a quiet voice barely audible above the TV.

"What?" I asked, not quite sure what she'd said.

"Your friends," she went on, "they still don't believe you, still tease you?"

"Yes," I lied, maintaining my make believe role as a beleagured soul.

"They can't see that you're more knowledgeable about women now?"

"They don't believe I'm getting as much as they are, so why would they pay attention
to what I have to say about women?" I replied, hoping to guilt her into another necking
session while Dad was out. I was already thinking ahead, wondering how I could get
her to lay on me like she had when I was 'sick' in bed. I wished I was laying on the
couch, but it was now covered in folded clothes. But her next comment made me forget
about necking all together.

"So what kind of pictures would you need?" she asked, continuing to iron.

"Pictures?" I was stunned. Mom kept ironing.

"Yeah, pictures. You said you needed proof for these so-called friends of yours."


"Oh, those." I was slow to react, caught off guard, my mind reeling.

"I don't think I could show my boobs," she went on, "I know you want me to, but I
don't think I can do that." Mom seemed flustered, her hand moving the iron back and
forth faster along the pant leg she was ironing. She couldn't let me see her tits
but she could rub herself to orgasm on me? I guess if things just happened, that was
one thing, but purposely doing something was another.

"Well, uh ..., well" I stammered, "how about your legs? You have really nice legs,
Mom. How about some pictures of your legs?"

"My legs?" Mom looked relieved, and the iron slowed.

"Yeah. But it would have to look like you were showing them to me, not like I just
sneaked some pictures when you weren't looking."

"Showing you?" Mom asked.

"Yeah Mom," I was beginning to get into this, "You'd have to look like your were purposely
showing off your legs, ... higher, you know ... with your skirt way up."

"I'll have to get some new pantyhose then. All of mine are torn," she mused. "What
do you mean by way up? Not all the way?"

"No, not all the way," I agreed, assuring her that there would be limits. "But you
don't need to get new pantyhose," I continued, not wanting a delay though I'm sure
she'd look great in pantyhose, "it would be better just like you are, with bare legs."
Thinking for a moment, I added, "Or maybe you could wear the old kind of stockings,
you know, the kind that have those strap things to hold them up." I felt myself stirring
as a picture of Mom in these popped into my mind.

Mom laughed. "Oh, so you want to see me in stockings and garters do you?" She laughed
again, the tension clearly easing. "And will that make up for not seeing my boobs?"
Her amusement was clearly evident in her voice.

I laughed as well. "Well, it would certainly be more convincing if you at least showed
some cleavage," I couldn't help pushing for more while making like I was continuing
with our little joke. I had learned that this was a good approach when you were trying
to get more than you deserved.

"Maybe we should wait until next week, then," Mom countered, "I have a bruise on my
leg."

I looked Mom's legs up and down, closely. I didn't see any bruise or any other unflattering
marks and said so. I didn't think she was teasing me because I'd been playing it pretty
cool, trying hard not to act too eager. I wasn't sure, but maybe she really was concerned
about a blemish showing. I mean, women can be quite concerned about their looks, especially
if captured permanently in pictures.

"You aren't going to let them keep the pictures, are you? You're just going to let
them look at them, right?"

"Absolutely. I won't let them keep them."

"Promise?"

"Yeah, Mom. I promise."

"Ok." She turned directly toward me for the first time, squarely facing me as I sat
in Dad's chair. "Seriously, though, maybe we should wait until this bruise goes away."


"I don't see a bruise, Mom."

"Well, you will if you want me to pull my skirt up for pictures," she said.

I ignored this. "Where is it?" I asked.

Mom lifted her skirt a couple of inches to maybe halfway up her thigh. Not quite.
"There," she said.

I couldn't see anything but took my time looking, I think enjoying Mom lifting her
skirt for me more than actually looking at her legs. I lifted my hands, palms out
and up, with the accompanying 'I don't get it' expression. Mom pulled her skirt up
another inch. I shook my head, winning another inch. Still, I shook my head. I was
afraid to use my voice in case it cracked and betrayed the calm, not all that interested
demeanor I was trying so hard to convey.

"You need your eyes checked." Mom said, suddenly lifting her left foot and putting
it on the seat of the chair beside my leg. "There," she twisted her knee out a little,
opening the inside of her thigh. "You must be going blind," she added, her voice exasperated.


True enough, there was a small bruise on the lower part of the inside of her thigh,
on the really soft fatty part that hung down from the bone. I was enthralled by the
opportunity to so closely examine Mom's leg, my eyes tracing its curvature as it widened
from her knee to the bottom of her thigh.

"Are you sure this won't ruin your pictures?" Mom asked, her fingers pulling around
the small bruise to emphasize it, the back of her hand pushing the skirt even higher,
allowing me to glimpse the lower part of her panties.

In answer, I framed my hands in a rectangle, like the viewfinder in a camera, and
'snapped' a picture. I then looked down at my left palm as if looking at a picture,
"Nope, can't really see it."

"Joker," she laughed, tousling my hair with her free hand. "But I think it would show
on a real one," she was suddenly serious again. "Would you have to take pictures this
high?"

"At least, Mom. Even higher. It won't convince those guys if they can't even see your
panties. It's either tits or panties," I said.

"Lorne, don't talk like that. You know I don't like it."

"Sorry Mom. But if you're going to let me take pictures, they have to be convincing."


Mom tousled my hair again, this time slowly. "I know, dear, I know."

I took advantage of her soft moment, reaching out with my fingertip to touch the small
bruise. "I don't think this will matter." I circled the little bruise, round and round,
pushing in to make a dent in her leg, pulling the skin away from her panties just
inches away. Mom moved her hand out of my way, placing it on top of my head with her
other one.

"Are there any more bruises there?" she asked.

"Not that I can see," I replied after craning my neck around, looking for bruises
but really eyeing up her panties.

"Any other marks?" she asked.

"Nope," I responded a moment later, immensely enjoying the opportunity to eye up the
area near the secret garden from which I should have sprang. When she asked if I was
sure, I knew she was getting in the mood, especially when she leaned forward, opening
her legs even wider. I moved my face very close, thrilling in her faint musky odor.


"Better let me check out your other leg, Mom."

Mom lowered her foot to the floor and lifted her right foot but I didn't shift over
to make room so she had to raise it up to the arm instead of beside me on the seat.
She pulled her skirt up. I pushed her knee out with my left hand and leaned in to
look, putting the tip of my right index finger on the bottom of her thigh near her
knee. As I examined her, I traced my finger along the bottom of her leg until it was
only an inch away from her panties in the little hollow where her leg joined her groin.


"Hmmmm," I leaned in for a closer look, peering intently at her leg near my finger,
"what's this?"

I moved my finger around in a tiny circle, scratching it back and forth beside the
edge of Mom's panties. "Hmmmm," I repeated, trying to sound very concerned, continuing
to scratch softly at her leg.

"What?" Mom asked, also sounding concerned, leaning down to look herself, her legs
widening as she did, but my head was in the way, so close my nose was almost touching
her pussy. I could see the hairlines mashed under her cotton panties, could trace
the groove running down the center of her mound with my eyes, and struggled not to
stick my tongue out to test her enticing cleft. I couldn't help inhaling through my
nose.

"What?" she asked again, a faint worry evident in her voice.

"Nothing," I said, reluctantly pulling my face back but considering it necessary lest
she think there was something there that nobody should see, especially in pictures.
"It's nothing," I repeated. As she relaxed, pulling back, her legs narrowing, I added,
"But you better let me take a look at the backs of your legs, just to be sure."

"The back? I don't think that will be necessary."

"Mom," I took on an insistent tone, "The pictures have to be convincing. If I only
have pictures from one angle, they'll just think I got lucky, but if they can see
from different directions, they'll know you were showing me."

Mom nodded, agreening with my invented-just-in-time logic. I pressed forward, not
wanting her to think too much, "Come on, let's have a look."

I pushed her leg down, as much as I didn't want to, and urged her to turn around with
my hands on the sides of her thighs. Slowly, she twisted around until she was facing
away from me but then just stood, as if unsure about what to do. I pulled her skirt
up. She put her hands down, blocking me from raising her skirt higher.

"Mom, I'm just going to take a quick look to make sure you don't have any bruises
or marks."

I pushed her skirt higher, her hands yielding before mine, but still there. I kept
pushing until the hem of her skirt was above the top of her thighs, exposing the very
bottom of her panties. I asked her to hold her skirt there while I looked, using my
finger again to trace around her legs. Starting at the back of her leg, I quickly
ran it between her legs, below the spot I so dearly wanted to touch, that magic area
she had rubbed against me when she'd gotten carried away. How could I get her into
that space again?

Unable to come up with a new idea, I tried the same gambit again.

"Hmmmm," I mumbled, stopping my fingers on the inside of her left thigh, bringing
them all together, flat against her leg, and pushed out to widen the gap between her
legs. She moved her feet, yielding to accommodate my pressure as I, unnoticed, pushed
her skirt higher up her back.

"Lean forward a bit so I can see," I instructed.

Mom leaned forward, her head twisting around to look back to see what was going on.


"More," I insisted, pushing out on her leg to widen the gap even more.

Both my wishes came true. Mom was now leaning far enough forward that she put her
left hand on her knee to prop herself up. I held her skirt at the very top of her
bum, leaving her buttocks exposed, even above the top of her panties which drew a
line only half way up her cheeks. I had seen my Mom in a two piece swimsuit before
but not this small, and I had never had the opportunity to sit closely behind her,
examining her ass. God, this was great!

"Hold your skirt for a minute," I instructed, looking concerned and leaning in to
look closely at her backside.

Mom took hold of her skirt, allowing me to pull my hand away. At the same time, I
leaned back, joined my hands together and pretended to take a picture again.

"Snap," I said, "picture perfect," and laughed.

"Ohhhh, you brat!" Mom exclaimed, standing up, her skirt falling back into place,
turning to faint a slap at me, her face flushed and smiling as I leaned back in the
chair to get away. "You brat!" she yelled.

Mom jumped onto the chair, her legs straddling the arms to pin me in place, and pretended
to beat on me.

"Mom, mom," I cried, laughing.

"You're just making fun of me."

"No, no," I cried, my laugher growing fainter. "Really. If you let me take pictures
of you like that, it will be awesome. They'll be blown away." I raised my hands in
picture mode and 'snapped' another of her as she slowed her assault on me.

"You look beautiful when you're mad." I 'snapped' again. "Especially when your face
is so flushed." Snap.

"You got me all worked up," she said.

I snapped another 'picture' of her face, then lowered my hands to 'snap' another of
her chest. Seeing where my hands were pointing, she slapped them away, but I kept
returning them to 'snap' more pictures of her chest. She finally gave up, so I continued
taking fake pictures of her breasts, and she let me.

"Why are men so consumed with breasts?" Mom asked.

"I don't know, Mom, but you know they'll want to see them."

"I'm not going to show my breasts to those creeps," she insisted.

I 'snapped' another pic. "Just a little cleavage then," I said and added, when she
didn't seemed moved, "It would be more convincing if you opened your blouse just a
little."

I paused, watching Mom digest what I'd said, seeing her buy the logic.

"Just a button or two," I prompted, snapping another picture, then dropped my hands
to urge her elbows up, letting go to snap another pic. Snap, snap as her fingers reached
her blouse. She stared straight ahead, not looking down at me, as her fingers undid
the top button of her blouse. I forgot to snap a pretend picture as I stared, my eyes
glued to her fingers. Her hands hung in the air in front of her blouse as the button
came undone.

I 'snapped' another picture. "That's it, Mom. Like that." Snap.

Her fingers moved to the next button. Snap. The material moved as her fingers fidgeted.
Snap, my index finger moved again, as if pushing a real button.

Mom kind of slumped when the second button came undone, still looking blankly ahead.
Her groin fell on mine as her weight shifted, her feet lifting from the floor and
her knees dangling over the arms of the chair.

I could feel the heat of her as her panties came into contact with me. I realized
then that I was already hard which momentarily panicked me, thinking she would jerk
back angrily when she noticed, but she didn't. She just slumped down, pressing warmly
against my hardon, looking blankly at the wall behind us.

Her hands were still held in front of her, poised by the button she'd just undone.


"One more," I whispered. Hesitantly, Mom's fingers began their work again, seconds
later opening her blouse a little more.

"Just one more, for good measure," I whispered again.

"Is that what you want?" she asked, still staring ahead.

"It's what they'll want."

A pause and then, falteringly, her fingers moved to the fourth button. A moment later
it too was undone. Mom's hands dropped to her sides, then moved up so that her hands
were flat on my shoulders. I 'snapped' another picture.

She looked amazing. I had never seen my mother in a low cut dress. This was the most
exposed I'd ever seen her chest. Her blouse was undone to the bottom of her breasts.
I could see where her bar joined together at the bottom. The upper half of her breasts
were bare, the swells straining to be free of the cups.

I was getting harder as I looked, and I couldn't help straining up against the heat
of her. She didn't flinch away. She didn't seem to even be aware at that my cock was
pulsing against her.

"Is this what you wanted?"

"Yes," I whispered, my voice dry and cracking, not bothering to continue the charade
that it was just for my 'friends'.

"Then have a good look," she said, her gaze shifting from the wall to my face. "Your
father will be home soon."

"Push up for the picture," I whispered, holding my hands up in fake camera mode.

Her blouse parted as she did, exposing the inside of her breasts. I reveled in her
beauty. I'm sure I told her she was beautiful, or awesome, or something like that,
or both. I know she smiled at what I said, looking pleased. I know I did say I would
never show real pictures of her if she let me see all of her. "Maybe without the camera,
one day," she answered.

"Why?" I asked, finding my voice again, "Don't you like the way I take pictures?"
I smiled, faking some snaps again.

"Actually, it was fun," she admitted. Then, looking intently at me, "Did you like
taking them, or were you just trying to get a look?"

She kind of caught me off guard. "No," I said truthfully, for once. "I think I liked
taking the pictures more. It was exciting."

"I thought so, too." Mom smiled, her face suddenly softening. "Would you like to practice
kissing a little before Dad gets home?"

I answered by stretching up to meet her lips. Mom lowered herself to help and I pushed
up more when I felt her weight come down, pressing the warmth of her panties firmly
against me. She slipped her hands under my arms and pulled her self down even harder
and slipped her tongue into my mouth when I thrust my hips up to meet her. We were
kissing hard, panting, and rocking against each other when we heard the car door slam.
We hadn't heard Dad pull into the driveway.

We almost fell into the ironing board as we leapt awkwardly to our feet. I had just
started upstairs when Dad came through the door. Looking back, I could see Mom running
the cold iron back and forth on the same pants. Though she was turned partly away,
I knew her blouse must still be undone almost to her skirt.

Thank god, Dad turned to me with the camera in hand. I asked him a couple of dumb
questions, keeping his attention on me as Mom came to her senses and quickly did up
her blouse. Dad suddenly turned, said hi to mom, and wheeled through the kitchen and
out the door into the backyard. I stood there, real camera in hand, looking at Mom.
We both had stunned looks on our faces, then slowly broke out into grins, and then
nervous laughter.

I walked down the two steps to the floor and raised the camera to my face, slowly
stepping toward Mom, still smiling. Click. Another step. Click.

Mom raised her hands high above her head, cocking her hips and pushing her breasts
out. Amazingly, she moved her hands to her blouse again. Two buttons were loosened
before I clicked again. "More," I whispered, repeating our game.

"More?" she teased.

Click, I answered.

"More?" she whispered huskily.

Click. Another button. Click.

"More," I gasped.

Another button. Click. She parted her blouse again. We'd reached our previous game
point in less than a minute. The return trip is always faster they say. Click.

Then another button. Click. Her blouse was open all the way to her skirt. Click. She
moved her fingers to her bra.

"Put the camera down."

"Put it down," she repeated.

I set the camera down on the floor. Her fingers moved and her hands pulled away. Nothing
looked different. Then I noticed. Her bra was undone. I could see her skin as it pulled
apart. I raised my hands into a mock camera. Snap.

Mom cocked her hip out to one side, her waist bending and her shoulder lowering. The
blouse opened a little more. Snap. She straightened in mock disdain, her back arching,
thrusting her chest up and forward, and the blouse away to the side. The gap between
her bra opened wider, showing the crease under her sweet globes, but it still covered
most of her breasts. I stepped close to her, looking down at her chest.

"Memories are better than pictures," she said. "They last forever. Would you like
one?" she asked.

I nodded.

"Then take it."

I raised my hand to her blouse, unsure of myself. She waited. I pinched the material
of her blouse between the fingers of each hand and slowly peeled her blouse off to
the side, leaving her only her bra covering her breasts.

"Is that the memory you want?" she whispered.

"No," I cried hoarsely.

Mom breathed out, her chest expanding toward me.

I grasped her bra and pulled it apart. I stood there, holding her bra apart and stared
in wonder as her breasts sprang free. They sagged a little, but they were wonderful
tits. Her nipples stuck up, surrounded by a nice brown surround.

"Disappointed?" she asked.

"No," I cried, clearly not.

"You like them?"

"Yes!" I answered enthusiastically. "I love them."

Mom laughed. "Well, I think that's going a bit far."

"No. I love them," I insisted.

"Ok, you love them," Mom laughed.

I let go of the bra and slipped my hands inside, cupping her tits gently in my palms.


"No, Lorny, no." Mom gasped. "Your father's right outside. No," she insisted as my
grip tightened. She pushed me back.

"Be patient," she said. "I'll let you look some more tonight while you're showing
me how to work the camera." She did up her bra and started on her blouse. "Now go
out and cut the lawn for your Dad."

The rest of the afternoon was a blur. I couldn't think about anything else but my
Mom. I was back to sneaking looks at her all the time but this time, she didn't seem
mad. She just smiled at me, like we were sharing something private. She even seemed
pleased by my attention, keeping up a lively banter with Dad during dinner as if to
distract him. Mom had set dinner at the kitchen table that night instead of the dining
room and she pressed her knee against mine several times during the meal.

After dinner, Mom and Dad went into the living room while I cleared the table, loaded
the dishwasher, and cleaned the counters. Joining my parents in the living room, I
found Dad sitting in the chair I had so much enjoyed this afternoon, and Mom sitting
on the couch. Dad was watching TV and Mom was doing a crossword.

"Come and help me, Lorne" she asked when I came in, patting the seat beside her on
the couch, next to her feet which were tucked up beside her. As I sat down, she rearranged
her skirt, the same loose pleated job she'd worn earlier, untucking it to bare her
lower legs. As she worked her puzzle, asking me questions from time to time, the skirt
pulled up over her knee and even showed the underside of her thigh. My cock stiffened
as I remembered how she let me touch her legs this afternoon.

Her pencil rested on her lower lip as she thought and every once in while, on its
journey back there after making an entry in the book, she stopped to let the eraser
rest between her blouse. It was only then that I noticed she had actually undone two
buttons. She smiled just then, as if aware of my discovery. The pencil moved sideways,
pushing the blouse apart, exposing the upper swells of her breasts, the ones I had
briefly cupped in my hands only hours earlier. It seemed like a dream.

She was right about memories. Her tits were more vividly expressed in my mind than
any picture, more intense than any porn movie I'd watched on the internet. My memory
had touch, the feel of her perfectly rounded lower breasts as they rested in my palms.
And sound, the sound of her breathing as it quickened when my fingers first brushed
past her tits, something I was just realizing now as I examined that memory. Mom had
been excited too!

I watched her use the pencil to play with the tops of her breasts as she stared earnestly
at the crossword. Leaning in to look, I allowed my hand to slip between her calf and
thigh, pressing her warm flesh on each side as I pushed in. Mom didn't object, the
corners of her mouth even turning up slightly, producing a thin smile on her face.


"Hmmmm," she mused, "I don't know about that."

"What?" I froze, thinkg she was referring to my action. Still I couldn't help leaning
in further and twisting hand so my palm faced her thigh.

"I don't know," she replied, "this is a tough one."

"It doesn't look so tough to me," I replied, my fingers reaching the other thigh and
sliding up along the crease between her legs.

Mom's smile deepened but then flattened quickly as I neared the apex of her legs.
"Maybe you should let me work on it myself." I could feel her trying to push my hand
away.

"No. You've got me hooked now," I said, pushing my hand further up her legs, closer
to her treasure pot.

"If you keep bugging me, I'll make you show me how to work the camera."

Dad smiled, hearing that remark. "Be careful, son," he chipped in.

I pulled back, relaxing my hand, keeping it still, but I left it in place.

After I stayed still for a moment, Mom also relaxed, content to let me stay where
I was. A moment later, her legs relaxed more, making it easier for me to move. I wiggled
my fingers between her thighs, and brushed my thumb across the back of her thighs.
Why I was allowed to do this, I don't know, but she let me do it for quite a while,
and I never tried to force my hand higher again. After a long while, Mom said it was
time for me to show her how to use the camera.

"Where is it?" she asked, "looking around. Have you hidden it?"

"No, it's in my room. I was checking it out so I'd know how to show you how it works."


"Let's go then. Come on," she said, "you may as well get it over with."

Trying hard to look unhappy, I followed Mom up the stairs, my eyes on her legs, the
tantalizing swivel of her hips, and her behind. When we got into my room, I closed
the door behind me.

"Where do you want me?" she asked. "Do you just want me to just stand here and hold
my skirt up?"

"Mom. Come on."

"Well?" she asked.

"On the bed, please. Just lie on your side."

"Should I try to look sexy?"

"Just be yourself, please."

Mom lay on the bed and watched me while I got the camera ready. She kicked her shoes
off while she waited and slid the foot of her upper leg slowly up and down along the
lower one. Her tongue traced the line of her upper lip as she pushed her foot down
her leg. Her hand rested on her hip and as I turned to look at her, the camera ready,
she pulled the skirt up her thigh and onto her hip.

"Is that what you want, baby? Do you want your Mom to show her legs for you?"

"Yes, Mom. Please. Show me your legs."

"Ok. But don't show my face."

Mom slid her foot up and down her leg, slowly pulling her skirt higher and higher
until the hem rested on her hip on one side. I clicked away. Her legs were bare almost
all the way up as her knee bent to let her foot slide up, her thighs gaping wide open.
Her panties peeked out each time her thighs opened like that. I closed in to get some
good pictures, gasping when I noticed that she wasn't wearing the white cotton panties
she'd worn that afternoon.

She was wearing a pair of sheer, black lace panties now. They were much narrower through
the crotch yet I couldn't see any hair poking out. Clicking away, favoring many shots
instead of the perfect one, I realized that her hair wasn't just tucked in, there
was less of it. She had shaved to get ready for this! At least, she had trimmed herself.
My cock bulged in my jeans.

"That's it," she whispered, "take some close ups for those pigs. They'll want the
vulgar stuff, won't they?"

She pulled her skirt high, showing all of her sheer panties. Twisting onto her back,
she planted both feet wide, spreading her legs for me, like she was waiting for an
inspection or getting ready to give birth. Click, click, click.

"Lift up," I whispered.

She lifted her hips.

"Again," I whispered.

She let herself down and lifted again, holding herself thrust up.

"Again," I whispered, very excited, "keep doing it. We'll show those pigs."

Mom repeated her pushing up several more times. I kept clicking away.

"Faster," I almost begged her.

She started thrusting up and back, her ass moving up and down, her pussy almost pulsing
in her panties as she mimicked fucking.

Suddenly she threw her legs out straight, almost kicking me in the face, and turned
onto her stomach, her legs together. Her skirt covered her ass as she lay there. I
reached out with one hand an flipped her skirt up, baring her flimsy panties which
barely covered her bottom, only reaching a third of the way, if that, up her cheeks.
And I could see right through them to boot. I clicked away.

Leaning closer, I pushed her legs apart, a little at first as I snapped pictures of
her ass, then wider as I moved in, getting closeups of her panties between her legs
and the outline of her pussy underneath.

"This will look really hot, Mom." I put the camera down and pushed the legs of her
panties together with my fingers, tugging them up into a single strand that I stretched
between her cheeks. Her bottom was now essentially bare, the cheeks accented by the
divide of the panties buried in her crack. She lay docile while I picked up the camera
and took my time taking pictures.

"Lift up," I suggested. Mom raised her ass, her legs tightening with the effort, her
back arching. She looked so incredibly sexy, and acted even more so as she raised
her ass more without waiting for me to ask.

"Do you like that, Lorny"

"They'll love it, Mom."

"Do you like it?"

"Yes, Mom. I like it too."

"Why do young men like this? You're so different now. Your father has never asked
me to turn over. Our generation always does it the same way, in front, with the man
on top."

I was stunned that she had mentioned her sex life with Dad, and that she was clearly
bored. I put the camera down, letting her feel it against her leg so she knew I was
concentrating on her instead of taking pictures. I let my hand touch the back of her
leg, trailing my fingers up the back of her thigh to her bum.

"I don't know, Mom. I think we know that women like to be enjoyed in more ways now."


"Do the other boys do things like this with their moms? Show their behinds?"

"They say they do." I heard Mom suck in her breath. "I've seen pictures," I lied.
I let my fingers trace a feather light path across the back of her panties. Her breath
sucked in hard again and her ass twitched, but she didn't say anything to stop me.


"A couple of them have said their mom's really like it." I ran my fingers back across
her panties again.

"Really?" Mom whispered, turning her face to one side.

"Yeah," I brushed my fingers back and forth. "They're the top dogs, the leaders."


"Because they get to do that?"

"Yeah." I was now just running my fingers all over her ass, not just across her panties
but on the bare cheeks above. "They showed pictures of their mom's bare asses, but
they weren't anywhere as nice as yours, Mom." I continued my delicate caress. "It
would blow them all away if they could see yours, ... bare."

I stopped talking but kept rubbing, back and forth, lightly, softly.

Mom stretched her hands back to her sides. She's going to stop me now, I thought.
Just a few more brushes, Mom. Just let me touch your ass a little longer, I thought.
Her ass lifted and her hands moved up to her sides. I pulled my hand away, so she
didn't have to actually force me to stop. But her hands grasped the sides of her panties
and pushed hem down until they rested on her thighs, baring her buttocks, still stuck
between her cheeks where I'd tugged them up a few minutes earlier. She didn't say
anything. Neither did I.

I returned my fingers to continue my soft caress across her buttocks, using a more
circular motion to softly cup her cheeks, even trailing my finger down her crack.
I paused to tug her panties down, pulling them all the way along her legs and off
her feet. I picked up the camera and took a few pictures. Mom spread her legs a bit
after a few clicks. Click, click, click, click. I nudged her knees farther apart and
put the camera into movie mode just as she lifted her ass, baring the back of her
open, bare pussy. It glistened in the light.

"Will they like that? Will that do it for you?" I don't know how she got the words
out, her breathing was so erratic.

"Absolutely, Mom. You're awesome."

"No more pictures, now."

I tossed the camera down.

"Did you like it, Lorny?"

"Yes."

"Do you love your Mom now?"

"I always have, Mom," choking, my voice breaking with the emotion of the moment.

"Am I your real Mommy?"

"Oh Mom," I cried, flopping down and hugging her.

"That feels good," she whispered. "Lay on me like that."

"Ok, Mom." I scrunched into her ass.

"Lorne, don't," she complained, "your jeans are too rough."

I stood and quickly shucked my jeans. She hadn't said I could take them off but she
knew I was and she still lay there waiting, her legs still spread, naked from the
waist down. I kneeled behind her and lowered myself, looking down as I lined up my
hard cock with her ass. She raised it to meet me just before I connected with her.


"Is this what they do with their moms?"

"That's what they said," I assured her

"And yo want me to let you? Just once?"

"Yes," I gasped.

"Ok then," she said. "Make sure you make a good memory."

Tentatively, I rubbed myself against her, pushing her ass down into the mattress.


"Yes, like that," she cried, turning her face down, muffling her voice in the mattress.
I thrust harder against her ass and began rubbing myself up and down between her cheeks.
Her hands snaked underneath herself. I couldn't see but I'm sure she was rubbing her
pussy. I started dry humping her as if I was actually fucking her from behind. I lost
control, I went wild. Minutes later, I burst, soaking my shorts with my sticky liquid
at the same time Mom stiffened and criet out into the bed.

A few minutes later she got up and left, leaving her black panties on my bed. I put
them under my pillow before going to the bathroom. As I walked down the hall I could
hear my parents arguing.

"I don't care if you want to go fishing," my mother was saying, "I need Lorne to help
me with the camera tomorrow, so you'll just have to go by yourself. I need more time
to learn."

"Ok, dear, ok," my father's voice filtered up the stairs. "I'll go by myself."

My cock was hard and in my hand by the time I entered the bathroom. The next day I
looked disappointed as my father explained that I had to stay home with my mother,
that it was for the best in the long run. If I took my time with her, he promised,
he'd make it up to me.

I wore a huge smile as I walked, no, stalked up the stairs as Dad's car pulled way.
I didn't wait any five minutes like Mom had. My pajamas were stretched to the breaking
point as I walked down the hall toward Mother's room.

She was laying on her stomach when I came in, supposedly sleeping, though I knew she
wasn't. I clicked a few pictures but she didn't stir. I peeled the covers down her
back, baring her shoulders, pausing to take a few more pictures. Slinging the camera,
I pulled the covers down to her knees, pausing again to take pictures. I waited after
clicking, knowing she was expecting me to pull the covers down further but instead
I lifted her nightie up over her buttocks, baring her behind. She wasn't wearing any
panties. I was rewarded by the sharp intake of her breath. Clearly, my mother liked
ass attention. How had neither of my parents discovered this in all their years of
marriage?

With a sudden jerk, I yanked the covers all the way off, dumping them past Mom's feet
to the floor at the end of the bed. Surprised, her breath sucked in hard. I paused
again for effect. I was really enjoying this. I couldn't imagine any girl my age playing
along like this. I loved the taper of her legs, her feet turned in. Gently, I took
her feet in my hand, running my thumbs softly up and down the insteps of her feet,
then pulled them slowly apart. I reached in to pry her knees open and then further
to spread her thighs.

Click, click, click. I raised one foot. Click, click. Raised the other. Click, click.
Pushed one down and bent the other over to lay on it. Click, click. Opened her legs
wide again. Click, click. Then nothing.

The seconds dragged by. Then, slowly, starting with only a tensing of muscles along
her legs, her ass lifted. Just a tiny bit. Click, click. Up a little more. Click,
click, click. Higher. Click, click, click, click.

I leaned on the bed, between her legs, sighting the camera directly at her pussy,
now clearly visible, from below. Click, click, click. Then nothing again.

Mom didn't move.

"Higher," I whispered, barely audible.

Her knees shifted up as pushed her ass farther from the bed. Click, click, click.


"Wider."

Her knees shifted out, lowering her ass. Her pussy lips parted. Click, click, click.
I knew this camera would capture the shine as her nether lips glistened in the morning
light. Click, click, click. Stop.

Again, no movement.

"Touch it."

No reaction.

"I need a picture with your hand there, for the finale. Please Mom."

Nothing. Then, two slender, feminine fingers appeared through the wedge of her legs
and red polish covered her pinkish slit. Click.

Her fingers stayed. I crawled off the bed but Mom stayed as still as I dropped my
pajamas as quietly as I could.

Click.

Did I see her fingers move?

"Just one more, Mom. A closeup."

I crawled up on the bed again and moved in behind her. Yes. There. Her fingers moved.
She rubbed herself. Holding my cock, I lined myself up, moving as close as I could,
hoping she wouldn't suddenly move her fingers back and discover my impending attack.


SHOVE!

I was in! PUSH! Get in her, my mind screamed, get in before she throws you off. Get
in her! All the way!

"OHHHHHHHHH."

Was that me or her.

Grind! Shove, shove, shove.

"Unnngh, ugh, ugh."

It was her! Fuck, fuck, fuck.

She was loose, she was wet, I was moving easily. I was fucking her ... faster, faster,
hard.

I looked down. She wasn't fighting me. Her head was still down on the pillow, her
face turned to the side. She was moaning, continually, gettin louder each time I shoved
in. GOD, she was fantastic! I slammed harder against her thighs. She moaned louder.
Harder, harder, harder. Her face was rocking against the pillow, her breath exploding
out of her mouth. I grabbed her waist and started pulling her back with each thrust.
I was going to come already! I couldn't stop it. I could feel it. OUT, it was squirting
out. I jammed forward and pushed my cock in as far as I could, followed by little
lunges with every squirt, my toes digging into the mattress to help me shove into
her.

I was empty. I held her, gasping. Her breath was rasping out, her legs slowly giving
way under my weight, her feet stretching out. I fell with her until we were flat on
the bed, my cock still in her. My hands slid up her waist to cup her tits, squeezing
them, finding each nipple and pinching them between by fingers.

We lay like that, regaining our breath until we were breathing normally. Not a word
was spoken. Our breathing was the only sound in the room. I began rolling her nipples.
They hadn't softened but I could still feel them stiffen as I pinched and tugged on
them too. I renewed tiny little fuck motions against her ass.

"Lorny,"

She was going to make me stop. I made my fuck motions a little bigger.

"Lorny."

A stroke. Just a little one, then another, and another.

"Ohhh, Lorny," she sighed, "that's so nice."

Fuck, fuck, fuck. The mattress was moving beneath us now as I put more weight into
my thrusts.

"Do you ... really ... like it ... like this ... this way?"

"I love ... it ... Mom."

"Unngghhh," she burst out as I threw in a hard one to emphasize my point.

"Unngghh, unnnghhh, unnnggghhh," she moaned as I began rocking into, starting to really
get into it again as my cock became fully hard again.

I reached forward and gently pulled her head up. I kept fucking into her as I whispered
directly into her ear.

"You love ... it ... too ... don't ... you ... from behind?"

We were really getting intense now. She was shoving herself back at me, fucking me
as much as I was fucking her.

"Yesssss ... I ... love it!"

I stopped talking then and just got into our fuck. It was better and longer than the
first. Very intense. I thought it would have been uncomfortable for Mom, holding her
head up like that, but she seemed to like it. I guess she'd had her fill of comfortable,
ordinary sex.

We rested after that. There was no recrimination for my surprise attack, nor did she
express any guilt that we had gone all the way. We just cuddled, and chatted, and
had a few laughs. Then I started to fondle her again, slowly working up to more overtly
sexual touching until I was once again in her, from behind of course. She kept turned
away from me. I put her on her side, spread her legs and did her that way for a while,
then got her up on her knees and held her feet up as I worked myself in her and then,
finally, I got above her, on my feet and drove down into her. She seemed to love the
lewdness of this, becoming quite vocal from the first shove at this angle. After that,
we were hungry and went downstairs. Me first, and then Mom after her shower.

Mom came downstairs completely nude. I have to say that even after the morning's romp,
I was shocked. Her hair was covered in a towel in that way that women do after washing
their hair, but she was otherwise naked as a jaybird. She smiled at me, laying plates
out on the table, and went straight to the counter to finish making the sandwiches
I had started. I turned to watch her, amazed at her nonchalance, her confidant beauty.
She did have a picture perfect ass for a woman her age.

My cock hardened with that thought. God, could I do it again? I stiffened more as
I focused on her cheeks. Why did she love it so much from behind? Was it just new,
or did she really like having her ass touched? I remembered how excited she'd become
every time I looked at or touched her ass. Maybe that was it. Maybe her ass was really
sensual for her.

I got up, downed my pajama bottoms, and walked up to stand behind her, as quietly
as I could, but she knew I was there.

"You look beautiful," I said, "especially like this." I put my hands around her and
kissed her on the side of her neck. She just smiled.

I let my cock poke against her ass.

"After lunch, Lorny."

"Ok," I conceded, "I'll just play a little."

"Alright, but don't get too carried away."

I reached around and scooped up some butter in my fingers.

"What are you up to? she asked. How strange that only yesterday she would have chewed
me out for wasting food.

My hand disappeared from sight behind her. I stepped back and rubbed the butter all
over her right cheek.

"Lorny!" she gasped. "Stop that. I've just had a shower."

"Well," I laughed, "you'll just have to have another with me, after we get all greased
up."

"Are you trying to get us all slippery? Is it better that way?"

"Yeah Mom. That's it. I'm going to make us slippery." I think my Mom was quite naïve,
even for her pre-internet age. I scooped some more butter and spread it over her other
cheek, then returned for another big handful which I started to spread between her
cheeks.

"I have some baby oil we could have used instead of this if you'd just waited until
we got back upstairs," she complained. She wasn't happy about the mess but I could
tell she was getting excited again by the way her butt was moving against my hand
as I began caressing her cheeks more than just rubbing stuff on them. I also began
dipping my fingers deeper between her cheeks and down to her pussy, rubbing the butter
in well.

When I reached for my last scoop of soft butter, I noticed she had stopped making
the sandwiches. She was just standing there letting me feel and rub her, swaying back
against my hands and fingers. I knew right then she was going to let me fuck her here
in the kitchen. I leaned against her back with my left arm, pushing her over the counter
a little and pushed her legs apart with my foot. She definitely knew I was preparing
her for a fuck, but she let me open her anyway.

"Lorny, no. Wait until after lunch."

"But my cock is hard now, Mom."

"But Lorny, I'm hungry."

"So am I Mom." I cupped my fingers over her pussy and ran it right up her ass crack,
dipping my fingers in to drag them across her rear hole. I repeated this a couple
more times and then let the tip of my longest finger nudge into her little hole.

"Ohhhh. What are you doing?"

"You mean here?" I asked, circling my slippery fingertip around her bud.

"Yes. ohhhhhh. What are you doing?"

I circled and circled, moving my left hand around to her mouth, I began circling her
lips the same way.

"I was just thinking of doing this, Mom." I pushed my finger into her mouth, then
pulled it back out.

"No, Lorny. I don't think I'd like that?"

I circled her mouth again. I hadn't stopped circling her rosebud.

"Doesn't this feel good, Mom?"

"It's ... different," she gasped.

I plunged my finger into her mouth and at the same time, poked the tip of my finger
into her anus.

"Ohhhhhhhhhh," she gasped around my finger.

I pulled my finger out of her mouth but left the other one in her ass. I circled her
lips, pushing them into an open 'O' while I wiggled my finger in her butt, then slowly
began moving it in and out. I took my time working from the first to the second knuckle,
matching movements with the finger in her mouth. In and out, and in and out. She let
out a guttural exhalation - that's the best I can describe the sound, not quite a
moan - when I pushed a second finger in, mouth and ass. I'm sure her reaction was
to ass invasion. Eyes closed and head down, she moaned loudly as I pushed the two
fingers all the say in, holding them there, barely moving, while I pulled my fingers
out of her mouth and gently stroked up and down her throat.

"Lorny, what are you doing to me?" She had difficulty getting that out, her breathing
was so ragged.

"I'm loving your ass, Mom. I thought you'd like it."

Gently squeezing her throat, I tugged her head down closer the counter. Once there,
I started moving my fingers slowly in and out of her again. When I was moving easily
in her, several minutes later, I made a little extra push at the top of each thrust
and twisted my hand a few degrees before withdrawing. Mom was moaning constantly now.


Suddenly, I pulled my hand away. Mom's ass, almost pathetically, strained back several
times searching for her now welcome invader. Her thighs quivering from her need.

"Lorny ...," it was almost a wail.

"Let's go upstairs and get that baby oil, Mom."

She pushed herself upright and turned to walk out of the kitchen but she could barely
stand, her legs were so shaky. I slipped my hands around her waist and lifted her.
My cock was firmly lodged between her cheeks as I walked her upstairs. Waddling our
way up, her cheeks rubbing up and down my shaft, proved too much for me. By the time
I got her to the bed, I was desperate to get inside her.

"Where is it?" I cried frantically.

"What?"

"The oil?" I yelled.

"On the dresser," she yelled back, fling her arm toward the wall to my right, her
voice muffled because her head was face down in the comforter.

I ran over to the dresser, knocking over several bottles of feminine products in my
haste before latching onto an almost empty bottle of baby oil. Feverishly I ran back
to stand behind my mother, still in place, knees braced against the end of the bed.
Quickly, I squirted the rest of the baby oil into the top of her crack, pushing my
cockhead between her cheeks to block its flow. I could feel the point of my cock insert
itself into her softened hole as the oil flowed on its head. Right away, my cock burst
through her ring embedding the head completely inside her bum.

"UGGGGNNNGGHHH, OHHHHHHH, LORNY, LORNY," Mom yelled. I'm sure the neighbors would
have heard had her face not been buried in the bed.

The bottle dropped to the floor as I grasped her hips. Unable to wait, incapable of
stopping, I pushed my shaft all the way in. She grunted, one long, huge grunt.

"Mom? Are you OK?" I asked when I was plunged fully inside her. "Mom? MOM?"

"Yesssss," she cried, twisting her head sideways, her red face now showing under her
hair. "Move it ... MOVE!"

A little stunned, I pulled my cock out a little, then pushed back in. Despite her
moans and grunts, not as loud now, I could tell she was OK and liked it, really liked
it, I thought as I began to move faster and faster.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god," she kept repeating between moans and grunts. I couldn't
help myself, the sound and feel of her sent me out of control. I banged her butt harder
and harder. She just seemed to love it even more. I thought she could easily take
all I could give and in that instant I gave it, all of it. I poured my seed into her
ass.

She slumped forward as my cock softened and popped out of her ass. She crawled up
onto the bed and spread her legs wide with ass raised up about a foot from the bed,
her face turning back to me, hidden by the mass of her hair.

"Can you do it again?" she asked, not a begging voice, more like a demand. Her ass
was moving, twisting up and down, her little pucker winking at me, waiting for it.


I didn't know if I could. Looking down at my wasted cock, I knew I couldn't. Not right
away, anyway.

"We don't have anymore baby oil," I threw out in my defense.

"We don't need it," she cried, "just get in me."

"No Mom, I don't want to hurt you."

Exasperated but resigned, she said, "There's more in the bathroom downstairs, then."


Her voice followed me as I walked through her bedroom door, relieved at my reprieve,
"Hurry, Lorny, hurry."

'Get up,' I silently screamed at my flaccid member, 'get up,' shaking it all the way
down the stairs, trying vainly to trigger some life in it. I swung around at the bottom
to the downstairs bathroom. Finding the baby oil right away, I slowly headed back
upstairs, still trying to convince my cock to rise from the dead. As turned to go
upstairs I got the shock of my life.

"Dad!" I exclaimed. "What ...,"

"We need to talk" Dad replied calmly as he turned to walk upstairs.

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

The letter didn't end there so I didn't have to search for another, but I noticed
action on the monitors. I hadn't seen anything all through the breakfast I had slept
through and, though I was captivated by Lorne's story, I had been keeping an eye of
the multiple view panel showing miniatures of each camera monitored by the system.
Mary and my mother had been having a mid-morning coffee while Mary prepared my Dad's
lunch and the latter had just left when Paul came in. This must have happened just
a half hour or so before I came downstairs myself.

"Hi, Mrs. H," Paul cheerily greeted Mom as he breezed into the kitchen. "Have you
seen my Mom?"

"She just went upstairs. You seem very happy this morning. Did you have an interesting
evening?" Mom had a mischievous look on her face as she leaned back against the sink,
exactly where she'd been the last time she had encouraged Paul to hold her breasts.


"Umm, it was Ok," Paul replied.

"Did you get to do anything new?"

"Sort of."

"Come here, Paul." Mom beckoned. "Come here and spill the beans to Mrs H."

Paul shuffled toward Mom coming to a stop standing in front of her, his head hanging
sheepishly. Mom took his hands an placed them on her waist.

"Now, what happened? Don't be shy. We're confidants, you and I."

"I got to see her breasts," Paul mumbled. I had to rewind and play that part again
louder to hear what he had to say.

"Weeellll," Mom drawled, "So she showed them to you so quickly did she?"

"Not really," looked guilty. "I pulled her robe apart when she was sleeping." I had
to crank the volume again.

"Oh, you naughty boy," Mom laughed, putting her arms up to his shoulders and patting
his back. She pulled his head down to rest on her shoulders. Paul's hands slipped
around Mom's waist and he leaned into her as she patted his back. "You must have really
wanted to see them to take that chance," Mom said. "Did she catch you?"

Paul shook his head. "She dozed off on the couch and I just undid her robe."

"Oh," Mom nodded, "she kind of fell asleep then?" I could tell from her voice she
didn't believe it.

Paul nodded.

"Were they nice??

Paul nodded.

"As nice as mine?"

Paul didn't react at first, then pulled back and said, "I haven't seen yours."

"Didn't I show them to you?" Mom asked. Paul shook his head again. "Would you like
to see them?"

Paul turned to look toward the stairs. Mom pulled his face back toward her. "She'll
be busy for awhile. Don't worry. We'll be able to hear her." She started undoing her
blouse but stopped. "That's silly," she said girlishly, "you know how to do this don't
you?"

Paul nodded and took over. A moment later, he pulled Mom's blouse apart and stared
at her breasts spilling out above her bra.

"She wasn't wearing anything," he said reproachfully.

"Wasn't she, now?" Mom's laugh rang through the kitchen. "Then you have more work
to do, don't you?"

I could see Paul working away at Mom's bra. It took him a while but he finally managed
to undo it and freed Mom's breasts. He held the bra out, marveling at Mom's tits hanging
precariously from her chest.

"Do you like them?"

"They're bigger." Paul's voice was matter of fact.

"Did she let you touch hers?" Mom asked, her eyes shining with naughty delight.

"She was asleep," Paul again responded factually.

"And you didn't want to chance waking her, did you, I in case you got caught?"

"No."

"I'm not awake." Now Mom spoke plainly.

Paul balked.

"It's ok, Paul. I'm a mom too. Other girls might be afraid, or upset, but not moms.
Go ahead, touch them." Mom's back bent backward, thrusting her tits up to him.

Paul's hands hovered over her breasts, then slowly floated down to rest on the swells
of her tits. His palms settled on her nipples, slipping around to the sides and then
slightly under to take the full weight of her breasts in his hands. Immediately, his
thumbs stretched up to tweak her nipples from side to side, pausing to bend them down
and then up before resuming his side play.

"That's nice, Paul. You've had practice before then?"

"No Mrs. H. This is my first time," Paul insisted.

"Call me Mom when we're alone like this. So you're a natural, then."

"A what? ... But you're not my Mom."

"Do you want to kiss them?"

"Can I?"

"Maybe. If you ask right?"

"Can I please kiss them, Mrs H?"

Mom didn't respond and when Paul tried to dip his face to her breasts, she held him
away.

"Can I kiss them, Mom?" His face was already leaning forward. She didn't stop him.


"Ahhh, yes, that's right, like that," Mom's head was thrown back, her eyes closed.
A few moments later, Paul's face was still busy on her chest when she spoke again,
"Su.. ahhh, yesss, that's it, you already know ... yes, suck them, hard ... harder."


They weren't being very cautious. I could hear Paul sucking Mom's tits as he leaned
over her, farther and farther as she leaned back more and more over the sink, angling
her tits up into his mouth. She didn't seem to be controlling this situation very
well. Her hands were running through his hair, rubbing his head, rolling it against
her breasts.

Suddenly her feet opened and lifted up onto her tippy toes as she leaned to far back,
losing her balance. Paul moved in, pressing himself into her. I could see his ass
hunch as he shoved into her groin, rubbing up and down as he continued to suck.

Abruptly, Mom forced him upright as she straightened up, both of them panting hard.


"My god," Mom exclaimed, "whew!" Her face was very flushed and her nipples glistened
with Paul's saliva as she looked down at the front of his pants. "I see you know how
to work that thing of yours too."

Paul was also ooking at Mom's crotch. As she caught her breath, Mom noticed where
he was looking.

"Did you see that too? Did she show you?"

"Her robe fell right open," Paul replied, simply.

"Uh huh," Mom said. "Was she naked there too?"

"No. She was wearing panties."

"But you wanted to see underneath, didn't you?"

"No. I didn't think of it?"

"Uh huh. Do you want to see what mine looks like?

"Yes, Mrs. H"

"What did I tell you?"

"Can I see it, Mom" What was this game Mom was playing? Was she trying to get him
used to asking 'Mom'?

"Sit down," Mom commanded. She followed him as he backed up to a kitchen chair and
sat down. Mom pulled her skirt up high, exposing her panties. "You can't just look
at a woman's thing, you know. You have to kiss it. Do you still want to see it?"

Paul nodded.

"Then ask."

"Can I see it ... Mom?"

"See what?"

"You know."

"No I don't. What do you want to see?" Mom teased.

"That. Your ... Can I see your pussy ... Mom?" Paul cringed, as if he was saying a
bad word.

"What are you waiting for? Pull my panties down."

Paul reached under Mom's skirt. His hands moved down and he just stopped, staring.
Mom let him look, for a good, full minute. Then she raised her hands to his head and
pulled him toward her, stepping forward as she did. She threw her head back when his
mouth contacted her, rolling his head about like she'd done when he was sucking her
tits.

"That's it ... that's good ... oh ohhh ohh ahhhh ughhh ohhh yeah, Paul ... wait, stop
... we can't, ohhh that's so good, ... stop ... don't."

Mom stepped back. It looked like she was trying to push his head away now. Paul fell
to his knees on the floor, his arms circled around her ass, holding her to him. Mom
stumbled back across the kitchen floor, Paul following, sucking her pussy despite
her hands trying to pry him loose. They stumbled, and kneeled, all the way across
to the kitchen until Mom was pinned against the cupboards.

I could see her trying to push harder, actually lifting herself from the floor. This
was a mistake as Paul simply lifted her thighs and pushed her legs wide, off the floor.
Mom was now at his mercy and his head really began moving under her skirt. She was
moaning now, her head thrown back, abandoning herself to him, her hands flung back
on the counter trying to hold herself up as his mouth savaged her chewed at her cunt.
Finally, she went rigid, then slumped onto his shoulders. Paul pulled away and stood
up, taking her limp form into his arms. He kissed her, looking very much like a grown
man in full control.

He took Mom's hand and pressed it to the very large bulge in his pants. Mom broke
the kiss, shaking her head. "No, Paul .. your mom is upstairs, she could come down
any minute now." Mom looked frantically at the clock to emphasize her point. "And
David might be around somewhere. This was crazy. Crazy!"

Paul continued to look her straight in the eyes. It was like looking at an ambiguous
figure. One moment you saw this gawky kid looking five years younger than his age,
and the next you saw this confident man with an enormous weapon in his pants, still
holding my Mom's hand along its length. That's right. Mom hadn't pulled her hand off
his dick despite her protests. Paul thrust forward, rubbing Mom's hand on himself
as he did. Mom looked lost.

"Later," she cried, desperately. "I can't now. I'll help you later, I promise." Suddenly,
their heads jerked toward the doorway. Mary must be coming. Mom looked back at Paul
and smiled. He dropped his hand but Mom didn't pull hers away. She reached up and
kissed him on his lips, her hand still gripping his penis. "I promise," she said,
squeezing him, then turned and went out the back door, blouse and bra still undone.


I didn't listen to Mary and Paul's conversation which had also been recorded. I wondered,
is this how Dad felt when he had worried about Mom flaunting herself in front of me?
I felt sick, and jealous, yet driven by a desperate need to see more.

I turned back to Lorne's letter.

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

I followed Dad up the stairs, like a condemned man trudging to his own execution.
Numbly, I trailed Dad to his bedroom where he stood frozen in the doorway, staring
at Mom, her ass still wavering in the air, her little hole winking, and her head buried
in the pillow. She must have heard us.

"Come on, Lorne, hurry," her muffled, urgent voice drifted back.

Dad was in shock. I stood there, not knowing what to do, naked, still holding the
bottle of baby oil. I cast my eyes at Dad, afraid to look squarely at him. He was
still frozen but there was a look of anger growing on his face. I looked down at my
hand, at the bottle of baby oil, as if it was a smoking gun. But there was something
else. I could see Dad beside me. There was a big tent in front of his pants! Dad had
a huge hardon, looking at Mom waving her ass, unaware that he was there.

"Hurry," Mom wailed, "come fuck me."

Dad's hands moved. He was undoing his belt, pushing his pants down, kicking his shoes
off and stepping out of his slacks. He pushed his shorts down and straightened up,
his cock lunging forward like a pole protruding from the prow of a tall ship. Silently,
I held up the baby oil. Dad grabbed it without acknowledging I was there. He walked
straight to the bed and clambered up behind Mom on his knees.

"Yes," Mom cried,her ass cocking up in anticipation. "What took you so long?"

Dad held his cock while he squirted baby oil along its length and then plunged into
Mom's ass. He pushed straight in.

"OHHHHH owwww ohhhhhh," Mom exclaimed. "Easy, easy."

"I'll fuck you, you bitch," Dad shouted, and started banging into Mom.

Mom's head jerked around at the sound of Dad's voice, her eyes wild. "John!" she yelled.


"Take this," Dad yelled, pounding roughly into Mom's ass, her neck bouncing dangerously,
twisted sideways still as she looked back at him in horror. "Is this what you want,
you slut?"

I leapt onto the bed, kneeling down beside my parents.

"Dad ... Dad," I yelled. "Take it easy, take it easy, ... don't hurt her! Please."


Dad slowed, easing up. He turned to look at me. His eyes losing some of their fanatic
glaze.

Mom straightened her neck. I laid my hand on her back, running it gently down to her
neck. "Take it easy on Mom, Dad," I repeated. His pace slowed again and he looked
blankly at me. "We have all afternoon, Dad." I stroked Mom's neck, "She'll look after
us all afternoon."

Still looking at be with a blank stare, he seem to nod, turned away and quickened
his pace but not roughly anymore, sinking into a rhythm. Mom soon started her sounds.


"Do me John ... do me." Dad's pace picked up a then a little more as she urged him
on with her grunts and moans. My own cock hardened as I listened to her. She reached
out and grabbed my tool. Dad looked down expressionlessly as Mom held my cock while
he thrust into her behind. As he came in her she started jacking me and when he fell
onto the bed beside her, she pulled me around behind her. I was in her in a second.
I lasted longer than Dad - after all, it wasn't my first that day - but not much longer.


We all lay on the bed after, Mom on her stomach, Dad on our backs on either side.
We must have fallen asleep. At least I did, because I suddenly became aware that Mom
was jacking me off as she lay on her tummy. I raised my head and saw that she was
doing the same for Dad. She got up then and moved over on top of Dad, pausing to insert
his cock into her, probably getting to be on top for the first time in their marriage.


She started slowly but soon was really working on him. He seemed content to keep his
cock pushed in her and to fondle her tits once in a while. When she had worked herself
up so much I thought she was about to come, she leaned way forward onto Dad's chest,
like a jockey on a steed. Looking at me for the first time, she whispered, "Come on
Lorny, get behind me."

I was so slow to react that Dad looked over at me and Mom seemed about to repeat herself.
I scrambled up behind her and slipped my cock into her well lubricated asshole. You
should have heard her moan. I wish I could reproduce that sound for you but I can
only do it in my head. I could actually feel Dad in her, moving, as I was. That was
a really wild fuck. I lost track of all the grunts and moans and expletives. We fucked
off and on into the night. There was no discussion or recrimination.

After that, we just swung into a new relationship. I think Dad was thrilled with the
new sex and Mom loved getting fucked by both of us at the same time. It was almost
impossible for either of us to satisfy her alone. I don't know what I'd turned on
in her, but it couldn't be shut off, that's for sure.

When we went to Florida to visit my Dad's parents, we took a room right on the beach
as usual. We usually dropped our bags and rushed over to visit my grandparents as
they almost always knew exactly when we had flown in, and complained if we didn't
show up within an hour. But this time, while Dad and I were unpacking our bags, Mom
walked out of the washroom in an incredible swimsuit. It had a tiny stretch of material
over each nipple, matched by a similar patch covering her pussy, and nothing but strings
everywhere else. She walked past us to the open glass doors and out onto the patio.


"I'm going to touch the water before we go," she announced as she passed by us. Dad
and I watched her saunter sexily across the beach, turning every man's head. Several
old duffers stopped to stare at her and actually started following her back to our
room on her return until they saw Dad standing in the doorway with me behind him.


Dad closed the door when she came back in and I could see how big his hardon was as
he turned to follow her. Mom crawled up onto the bed and took her familiar position,
face down in the mattress, ass in the air.

"Fuck my parents," Dad said as he stumbled past me, trying to get his pants off.

You got that right, I thought as I yanked my own pants down.

I woke late that night to the most incredible feeling. Dad was snoring on my parent's
queen bed but Mom was in mine on top of me. She was holding her weight up on her elbows,
brushing her lips on mine and her nipples across my chest. Her fingers were stroking
my forehead and the side of my face and my cock was buried deep inside her, privy
to the most delightfully soft, wet, pulsating muscle you can imagine. As she pulled
up, she squeezed my shaft all the way, twisting her hips to maximize the exquisite
feel as I slipped through her wet tunnel.

"Are you awake dear?" she whispered.

"Yes," I answered, whispering too. "God, Mom. That's fantastic."

"I wanted to give you a special memory."

"I won't ever forget this feeling."

"There more," she whispered, even more quietly. She cocked her hip to the side a bit
and pushed down on me as far as she could go. "That's where you started, Lorne. Right
up there." She gave her hip a little extra shove to emphasize where she meant.

"Mom," I said, "I know I was adopted. I couldn't have started there. I love you. You're
the only Mom I've ever known, or want, but I know you're not my birth Mom."

"You're right," she said, resuming her slow milking fuck, "you were adopted. You know
what your grandparents are like, how religious they are. Well, they were mad because
your Dad was their only child and he said he wasn't going to get married and have
kids because there were too many in the world already. We thought like that back in
those days. He was going to live in a commune. But then he did it."

"What ... did what?" I could barely get out two words as a time, she was making me
feel so good.

"Your Dad met me and got me pregnant, but he didn't want to admit that he'd done that
when we weren't married so we got married and he tole them we had adopted you because
a friend was going to have you aborted otherwise. It made him kind of a hero to them."


"So Dad got you pregnant ... with me?"

"That's right. This is where you came from." Mom pushed right down on me again. I
could feel that I was very deep in her. She squeezed her pussy on me and twisted her
hips again. "I am your real Mom, baby."

I was in shock. I had been convinced that I was adopted. Mom pulled slowly off me,
right out, and hovered above the tip of my cock.

"Is it still ok, baby? Do you still want me?"

"Ohhh, Mom. Yes, yes." I put my arms around her, hugging her, flooding with emotion
as her sheath slipped once more over my cock, where it belonged, resuming its excruciating
squeeze down my shaft. I'm the luckiest son in the world, I thought. When I was deep
in her again, at my origin, I felt the tears flow onto the side of my face. Seconds
later, she began her slow, teasing withdrawal.

"Fuck me, Mommy," I cried.

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

I was floored. What a lucky son he really was, I thought, as I tossed the letter onto
the desk. I swung my feet back to the floor and glanced at the screen to check the
cameras before heading out to see how dinner was coming. I just caught Mary taking
a tray from Paul with Dad's dinner on it. Mary usually fed Dad a half hour before
we ate, so I knew dinner would be ready soon but I still had time to read another
letter, except that I didn't really want to. I felt I owed it to Lorne's story to
give it a little time in my mind. Then I saw Mom enter the kitchen as soon as Mary
was gone.

Paul was still standing by the counter where he'd passed the tray to his mother not
a moment before. Mom walked straight up to him and plastered her palm right onto his
crotch, rubbing up and down several times before undoing his belt. I scrambled to
turn up the sound.

"... keep my promises." Mom pulled Paul's belt apart, unzipped his pants, and pushed
them open. She fell to her knees, tugging his undershorts down in the front to his
thighs, freeing his cock and balls.

"Oh, my. Paul!" Mom gazed at this semi hard tool. He had big balls and an ordinary
sized cock but the head was disproportionately large. The shaft was a little thicker
to support the huge head but it wasn't any longer than normal.

"I know. It's ugly."

"No no. It's different, but it's not ugly." Mom petted his cock and it straightened
under her encouragement. As it lengthened, the true size and heft of his cock head
became apparent. It was perfectly formed, a prototype. "Has Mary seen this?" Mom asked.


"No. Not since I was little but it didn't look like this until I was older."

"Oh, you have to find a way to show it to her." Mom stroked his shaft, swirling the
fingers of her other hand lovingly around the big head. "She'll love it, believe me."


"Really?" Paul asked, "For real?"

"Yes, baby." Mom brought his cock to her mouth, her tongue flicking out to tease it,
tickling underneath and then circling the whole head.

Mom cautioned him, "Don't try to put it right in my mouth, Paul. It won't fit." She
swirled her tongue around him and then opened her mouth, slipping it over the tip
as far as the could. She couldn't get the whole head in, but she came close. She moved
her head back and forth a bit, the hollow in her cheeks showing that she was sucking
him, and I could see her tongue working underneath. She pulled off with a wet popping
sound.

"You need a woman with a big mouth, sweetie, to take this thing." I was shocked again
as Mom spit on his cock before plunging her mouth over its head again. She worked
on him longer this time before pulling off.

"You need a woman with a huge smile, like Julia Roberts, or Cameron Diaz," Mom said
before gobbing on his cock and covering the head again. Paul tried to push into her
mouth, but there was no way. Mom let him grab her head and hold it on his cock, but
only for a minute before pulling away.

"You can't, Paul. You're too big." Mom was jacking him while she talked. "I'd love
to but you're just too big." She reached up and fondled his balls with her free hand.
"Ooohh, you've got a lot saved up in these, don't you?"

Paul nodded as Mom tickled his nuts. I could see he loved the way she was jacking
him, but he also wanted to get back in her mouth and was trying to push it back there.


"You want back in, don't you?" Mom teased. He nodded his head rapidly up and down.


"Ok, but you have to do something for me." Paul nodded again.

"I want you to show this to Mary."

Paul looked uncertain.

"Do you want me to suck it some more?" Paul nodded, but still looked confused.

"But I don't know how ..."

"Find a way, if you want me to suck you again, find a way."

"I'll try."

"No Paul. You have to do it. I'll let you come this time but never again if you don't
do what I ask."

"Ok. I'll do it."

"Promise me. We keep our promises, remember."

"I promise, I promise." Paul looked desperate. Mom had let him get his cock half an
inch from her mouth, blowing on him, but despite his lunges while they talked, he
hadn't been able to get it in.

"Ok Paul. Think about your Mom. Picture her face and her beautiful, big smile."

Mom spit and pulled his cockhead quickly into her mouth, jacking his cock. Paul was
breathing loudly, gasping, almost moaning, his hips jerking as he tried to fuck into
Mom's mouth. Mom fell back onto her elbow, pulling her head back and off Paul's cock.


"Oh, baby, you're almost there already, aren't you? Exciting, isn't it? Thinking about
getting your cock into her mouth?"

Paul had followed Mom down to the floor and was trying to push his cock back into
her mouth.

"That's right, Paul. She's your mom. Her mouth was made for you. You need it."

Mom spat on his cock, but this time she didn't immediately take him in. She spoke
as her spit drooled off his cock, already covered in bubbly saliva.

"I'm going to let you come this time, but only if you call me mommy. Say it."

"Mommy," Paul said.

Mom spat on his cock again.

"Mommy."

She spat on it again and pulled it to her mouth, falling flat on the floor.

"Mommy," Paul cried, pushing his cock rapidly at her mouth.

Mommy!" he cried again, straddling her chest and fucking at her head just managing
to get the tip into her mouth.

Mommy ... mommy ... MOMMY!"

Paul's hips were jerking. I couldn't see Mom's face. He stopped, held still for a
minute, then stood and walked toward the back door, pulling up his pants.

Mom lay there. The floor around her head was splattered with come and there were shots
on the cupboard behind her. Still, her face was covered completely in the creamy,
white stuff. He must have been like a hose when he let loose.

"God," I heard Mom say. She laughed, "God," and laughed again, but she still just
lay there without making any effort to get up. Then her hand moved, down to her crotch.
She grabbed at her skirt, bunching it up and pulling until she could reach underneath.
Her hand cupped her panties, her finger slipping down along the length of her pussy.
She began rubbing herself. Minutes later, she came. Only then did she get up, turning
to lean over the sink. The faucet turned on and she began splashing water on her face.


She was drying her face with a dish towel when Mary came in, carrying the tray with
a partly emptied plate and an empty glass.

"Did you hear Paul calling me?" she asked.

"Yes, Mary. I think he's waiting for you downstairs. He said he didn't want to eat
upstairs tonight." Mom was still patting her face, hidden behind the towel. "He said
he wanted to be alone with you."

