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When I heard my mother’s high-pitched shriek I nearly shot straight up from the living room couch. It was a Saturday afternoon and Mom (whose name is Tara) had spent the afternoon in her flower garden. After coming in and gulping down a glass of water she said that she was going to have a long, hot bath. She lamented that she was grimy and her back ached and her legs were sore. That had been almost an hour ago. When I heard the shriek coming from her bedroom I ran up the stairs. Mom’s bedroom door was ajar a few inches.

“Mom, what’s wrong?” I called out, standing outside her bedroom.

“Come in… there’s a spider in here, Luke,” she said in a shaky voice.

I pushed my mother’s bedroom door open and stepped inside. Mom was standing beside the bed. She had a mauve terry cloth bath sheet wrapped around her and was clutching the top part of it to her chest with her right hand. The soft towel hugged Mom’s slender frame and hung down to her mid-thigh. Her damp black hair shimmered as it brushed over her bare shoulders. Her trembling left hand was extended and she was pointing to the floor, about a yard in front of me.

“I saw it run out from under the bed and go over there,” she said, pointing.

Mom has arachnophobia. If there were a stronger word for it than just a phobia, that would have applied to her too. Occasionally she would encounter a spider in the garage or basement or while gardening. Her resulting scream of terror could practically be heard throughout the neighbourhood. That was a cue to come to her rescue and kill the creepy crawly.

Lying on the floor about a foot from my feet were a pair of green shorts and a t-shirt that Mom had worn gardening. I kicked them aside, searching for the spider. Beneath her t-shirt I discovered a pair of panties and bra. I tried to seem indifferent as I surveyed my mother’s red panties and pink bra, taking note of the size of the cups which had held her firm breasts barely an hour earlier. From the corner of my eye I saw the spider scurry across the floor, running out from under a small wicker table beside the closet. It was black, perhaps two inches in size. I stepped on it and heard a faint crunch from under my sneaker. I lifted my foot and saw a small gooey wet spot on the hardwood floor.

“I got him,” I said, turning towards my mother.

Mom gave a relieved sigh, still holding a fistful of the towel and pressing it to her damp chest. I looked at her bare skin, just above her unsteady hand. Beads of water were running down her shoulders and upper chest. Below that, I noticed the swell of her breasts pushing out at her tight towel and a few inches of deep, tanned cleavage above the towel. Mom’s not built like some of the women I often see on websites, but she’s got a nice figure. Her breasts are plenty big for my tastes — definitely more than my hands could hold. Although that was just my assumption and unfortunately not something I knew from experience, or firsthand, so-to-speak. What really makes Mom stand out from other women are her sparkling green eyes and alluring smile. She has a natural beauty that she doesn’t have to work at. She’s slender, slightly over a hundred pounds, and a few inches above five feet. There’s a lot of sex appeal packed into her petite body.

“Oh, thank god you killed the thing…” Mom sighed, then smiled. “Thanks, Honey.”

Mom stepped over to me and draped her left arm around my shoulders. I felt her fist press against my chest as she hugged me, still clutching her towel with her right hand. I put my right arm around her bare shoulders and embraced her. Her damp skin was soft and I glided my hand down over her arm. Touching her made my cock even harder than it already was. I lowered my eyes to her chest, looking at her cleavage again and how her breasts were now pushed up slightly as she leaned on my chest. I could see almost half of them rising from the top edge of her towel. They were smooth, tanned and looked very firm. Girls half her age would have wished that theirs looked as nice as hers did. My eyes locked on them as I felt her left hip rub across my erection briefly — probably just long enough for her to realize I was hard, I feared.

“I could have never slept tonight if you hadn’t have killed that damn spider. I would have worried that he’d crawled into my bed.” Mom let out a soft titter, seeming embarrassed by her anxiety.

As Mom laughed I felt her rub against my erection again. She froze for a moment, then slid her arm from around me and turned. She sat down on her bed and crossed her left leg over her right. I watched as her towel parted and slid off of her left knee, exposing most of her silky thigh. She looked up at me and for an moment I was sure I noticed a change in her expression as her eyes locked on the bulge in my jeans. I pushed my hands deep in the pockets, hoping to conceal my erection.

“Yeah, but you know, now his family and friends will come looking for him,” I said. “When they find out that he’s dead, they’re going to be pissed at you. I’d sleep with one eye open if I were you.” I let out a devilish chuckle as I waited for my mother’s reaction.

Mom had taken a bottle of moisturizer from her night stand and was rubbing some over her bare leg. She looked up, giving me a worried look, then laughed. “Don’t put things like that in my head, Luke. You know how terrified I am of spiders.”

I smiled, watching Mom’s hand glide up and down her smooth leg, spreading the milky lotion over her soft, smooth skin. It reminded me of semen and filled my mind with a myriad of lewd thoughts, all concerning her.

“Okay, now let me get dressed so I can go down and get something to eat,” Mom said, looking up at me. She was smiling, but her expression changed slightly when she noticed me giving her leg a blatant stare.

I went back down to the kitchen and made myself a sandwich and some fries. I was eating when Mom joined me a while later. She had put on another pair of shorts and a t-shirt. I pretended not to notice her as she made herself a salad and a sandwich. The sight and sensations of her with only that towel around her sexy body as she hugged me earlier were still vivid in my mind though.

I spent part of the evening surfing the Internet in my room, then joined Mom in the living room to watch television for a while. She was sitting on a chair in the corner, legs crossed, flipping through a gardening magazine.

“What’s on?” I asked as I sat down on the couch.

Mom looked up from the magazine on her lap and shrugged. “I haven’t really been watching it. I’ve been looking at this.” She held the magazine up for me to see the cover.

I sat on the couch and began flipping through channels until I found something interesting. Mom was engrossed in reading and looking at pictures of flowers as she sat silently across from me. It was pleasing to see her so contented. It had been a rough year for her. My father had run off with a younger woman he had met on the Internet close to ten months previous. Neither Mom nor I had any idea about his online activity until he announced his affair to Mom, then asked for a divorce. Mom was devastated. So was I. She blamed herself at first, rather than just accepting the fact that my father was a no-good, deceitful asshole. Eventually Mom came to realize that as much as it hurt, she was better off without a man whom she could not trust. My father moved to Michigan soon after that to be with his mistress and I seldom hear from him — which is how I prefer it.

My father’s absence was something that took a while to get used to. I had mixed feelings; I think that Mom did too. I love my father, but I hated him for betraying Mom. I felt torn in two. I’m sure it must have taken Mom a while to deal with her emotions too. For weeks she was despondent, then a promotion at the marketing firm she works for did a lot to boost her self-confidence and overall emotional well-being. She was busy settling-in to her new job and had little time to dwell on her divorce proceedings. Once spring came she could begin gardening (her favourite pass-time). It was as though she had emerged from a cocoon as a new person. I welcomed the metamorphosis.

Without my father around it meant that Mom and I spent a lot more time together and relied on one another more than ever for emotional support. As a result we became even closer than before. I began to consider it a blessing that my father had abandoned us. There were nights where Mom and I commiserated about what a prick my father was and others where she sobbed against my chest while I held her as we sat on the couch. Mom also began to rely on me in ways that she had not previously. Whether it was mundane tasks like changing light bulbs and taking the trash out, or asking my advice on household matters and car repairs, Mom began to depend on me more. This made me happy. I would be nineteen soon and gladly accepted any responsibility she saw fit to entrust me with.

Now that there was just me and Mom we became as much like friends as mother and son. This sea change resulted in me ultimately beginning to feel for her differently and notice her in ways I had not previously. After much inner turmoil and reflection I admitted to myself that my feelings for Mom had become sexual. I tried to assuage my guilt by convincing myself that anyone else in my shoes would feel exactly the same. Mom is a very lovely women and it’s perfectly normal for any straight male to be sexually attracted to beautiful women like her. The twist of fate that made me her son did not exclude her from whatever part of my brain that decides who turns me on. I continued to ogle and fantasize about my mother without any guilt, telling myself that thoughts aren’t illegal yet.

For the rest of that evening I watched television while Mom read her magazine. My eyes wandered over towards her occasionally, running up her shapely legs to her slightly conical breasts pushing out at her t-shirt. At one point she glanced up as I was looking at her. She smiled, then gave me a puzzled look.

“What?” she asked, probably wondering why I was looking her over.

“I was just thinking how good it is to see you happy for a change,” I said.

“I lose all track of time when I’m gardening, or even reading about it,” she said. “I want to get back out there tomorrow to plant some tulip bulbs and a few other things.”

“Just watch out for spiders,” I said, enjoying tormenting her. “They hide under warm rocks in the soil, you know.”

Mom shuddered and gave me a worried look. “Oh, don’t tell me that, Luke. My garden is the only place I don’t worry about spiders.”

I was still grinning, but I felt a pang of guilt for taunting Mom. I returned my attention to the television, although my thoughts remained on my mother. A few hours later she stretched and stood up.

“Time for bed,” she announced. “I want to get up early tomorrow, before it’s too hot out.” Mom tossed her magazine on the coffee table and walked towards me.

“Have a good night,” I said, looking up at her.

“You too, Honey,” she replied.

Mom leaned down and placed her hand on my shoulder. Her silky hair grazed my neck and ear as she kissed my cheek. I smiled, enjoying the feeling of her soft lips pressed to me. I slid my left arm around her narrow waist, just above her shorts, and held her tight. She straightened her back, resting her hand on my shoulder, and smiled. Her eyes lingered on me and I kept my arm around her. After a few seconds I began to wonder what she was thinking as she looked into my eyes.

“What?” I asked.

“Oh, I was just thinking how lucky I am to have you around,” she said.

“I’m sure you could find someone else to kill spiders for you if I wasn’t,” I joked.

Mom laughed, running her hand down between my shoulder blades. “No, I’m serious, Luke. I don’t know how I would have gotten through this past year without you for support.”

I shrugged. “It was mutual, Mom. We got through it together,” I said.

Mom thought for a moment, then nodded. She sat down on the arm of the sofa and leaned on my shoulder, still resting her hand on my back. “I know I won’t have you around forever — you’ll be starting college in the fall — but when the time comes for you to move out, I’ll be lost without you,” she said.

“Well, I’ll still be living here while I go to college since it’s only a twenty minute drive, but by the time I move out you’ll have met someone anyway.”

“What? What do you mean?” Mom’s eyes widened and she leaned back slightly.

“Well, I’m surprised that you haven’t been dating already. But I know you’ll meet a guy eventually,” I explained. “He can kill spiders for you.”

Mom giggled, then gave me a serious look. She shook her head. “No. I’m not interested in dating anyone. I think I like being single. Besides, my chances of meeting someone who’d be interested aren’t as good as they were years ago,” she remarked.

“Don’t be silly, Mom. Lots of guys would love to go out with you.”

“Oh, and what makes you think that?” Mom’s expression was a mixture of amusement and disbelief.

“Well… come on… you’re really pretty,” I said, perhaps with a little too much enthusiasm.

“Thanks, Honey, but I think you’re biased because I’m your mom. Most men probably wouldn’t see me the same as you do,” she asserted.

My arm was still around Mom’s waist as I held her. I could feel her heat radiate on me and smell the fresh scent of her shampoo. Her right breast was at eye-level to me and only inches away. I stared at it, trying to imagine my mother topless. The feeling of her soft body against my shoulder and the curve of her hip pressed to me was exciting. My hand slid down a ways, so my fingers were touching the upper curve of her ass through her shorts. I pressed a little harder against her firm rump, feeling my cock throb.

“If they don’t, they’d change their minds if they had have seen you with just that towel on this afternoon.” I gave Mom a brazen smile. I knew that my comment was probably inappropriate, but at the moment I was too turned-on to care.

Mom let out a soft gasp of surprise. Her eyes widened as she jerked her head back a bit. “Luke…!” she exclaimed.

“What?” I asked, feigning confusion at her reaction.

“Honey, you shouldn’t… I mean, I’m your mother,” she blurted out, then relaxed. “Besides, the towel covered everything — except my legs, and that’s no worse than me wearing shorts or a skirt.”

“It showed some cleavage too,” I added with a grin. I knew I had crossed a line with Mom that I had been careful to avoid for many months, but my horniness had made me speak before thinking.

“Well, there couldn’t have been much showing. I don’t have a lot to begin with,” Mom shot back. Her eyes met mine and she frowned a little.

I gave Mom a faint smile, but kept silent. I thought that disagreeing or trying to assuage her apparent insecurity was probably going too far with my risqué comments.

“What — no smart-ass comment?” Mom said, giving me a teasing grin.

Mom’s goading surprised me. I had thought that she was uncomfortable and wanted to change the subject. But since she posed her rhetorical question I wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to compliment her, even if I shouldn’t.

“No, it’s not that. I just thought that I shouldn’t comment, but since you asked for it — ”

Mom interrupted me with a short burst of laughter, then cocked an eyebrow. She looked down at me, waiting.

“I was going to say you’ve got enough there.” I nodded towards her chest, then raised my eyes to hers, feeling nervous.

“Well, I guess it wasn’t enough for your father. Before he moved out, I found photos on his computer of the slut he met on the Internet. I guess he wanted someone with bigger ones.” Mom sounded bitter and insecure. Her mouth was twisted into a sneer.

“Don’t feel bad because he’s an asshole, Mom,” I said. “He’s just being greedy.”

“What do you mean?” Mom asked. She tilted her head to one side, looking curious as she knit her brow.

I sighed and tightened my mouth as I looked up at my mother’s pretty face, then down to her bust. “I’ve probably already said too much — sorry,” I mumbled.

“Well, don’t stop now,” Mom simpered. “Tell me what you meant about him being greedy,” she coaxed.

“I meant that, well, I wouldn’t exactly call yours small, so going after a girl with bigger ones is just greedy.”

Mom laughed hard and squeezed my shoulder tighter. I noticed her breasts shake a bit as her body quivered. My eyes automatically gravitated to her chest. She leaned into me more, resting on her hip. When she moved my hand slid down further over her firm ass. I thought about moving it back up, but left it pressed against her pliant cheek. She either didn’t notice, didn’t care, or enjoyed me touching her there because she never reacted. It was only when she noticed how my eyes were riveted to her chest that she said something.

“Now you’re the one who looks greedy,” she teased, perhaps trying to cut the tension with humor.

I looked up at my mother and smiled. “No. You’re everything I could ever want, Mom.”

A faint cry of surprise escaped Mom’s mouth as her jaw went slack. I don’t know if it was because of my blunt comment or how I said it. Whatever the reason, she was visibly shocked. She took a deep breath and composed herself.

“I… I don’t know what to say to that,” she said.

“How about ‘thanks’?” I suggested, then gave her another grin.

“Thanks. Hopefully some day you’ll meet a girl like me then.” Mom straightened her back and forced a smile.

I shrugged, then lowered my head.

Mom stood up and ran a hand through her hair. Her cheeks were a little flushed. “I have to get to bed for real this time. The sun’s not going to wait for me tomorrow,” she said.

“Have a good night, Mom. I love you,” I said, as much to hear her reply as it was the truth.

“I love you too, Honey,” she said. This time her smile was genuine and loving.

I slumped down on the couch, listening to Mom climb the stairs. Even after I had heard her bedroom door close behind her I remained motionless. My mind was in turmoil. I gave a blank stare at the wall as I replayed the day’s events in my mind, trying to figure out how the status quo between us had changed. It had changed; I was certain of that — even if we had not acknowledged it. Things rarely, if ever, change in an instant; at least for the better. There is always a series of events that bring us to a specific point in our lives, although it’s usually only in retrospect that we realize it. Since my father’s departure Mom and I had slowly, yet steadily grown closer. Our emotional bond had strengthened now that we were all each-other had to rely on. For me, that grew into a desire for her. What I did not know was whether she felt the same, even to a lesser extent. All I knew for sure was that I loved Mom and wanted her.

I got up from the couch and trudged up the stairs. My emotions had made me physically tired. Hopefully a good night’s sleep would help me think more clearly the next day.


On my way to the bathroom that Sunday morning I noticed that Mom’s bedroom door was open. Usually that only happens throughout the day once she’s dressed and gone to work. I poked my head in her room. It was empty. After using the bathroom I went back to my bedroom and looked out my window to the back yard.

Along one wall of the garage was a strip of ground where Mom had started a flower garden last summer. She was crouched over the flowers, digging at the soil with a small trowel, transplanting more flowers she had bought a few days previous. Beside her was a wheelbarrow half-full of peat moss. Mom was wearing the same green shorts and had worn the day before and a pale pink tank top. I stared at her ass, pointed in my direction, and her bare thighs. My cock began to stiffen and tent my boxers. I cupped my heavy balls and gave my shaft a squeeze through my boxers. I watched my mother for a few minutes, imagining kneeling behind her and tugging her shorts and panties down so I could slide my shaft in her tight, wet pussy. I decided I had better move from the window before she noticed me, as much as I would have loved to have stood there until my cum splashed over the window pane. I quickly got dressed so I could join her outside.

Mom seemed happy to see me as I approached. She took a quick look at her watch and smiled. “You’re up early,” she said.

“Yeah — when I saw what a nice day it was I decided to get up so I could enjoy it,” I said, standing beside her.

Mom wiped her wrist across her forehead and straightened her back, still kneeling less than a yard from me. Lewd thoughts filled my mind as I looked down at her. The left strap of her tank top had slipped aside to uncover her bra strap, stretched tight over her shoulder. It was light blue and thin. I wondered how the rest of her bra looked. Mom’s emerald eyes glistened as she looked up at me. The sun shining on her ebony hair made it shimmer. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen and I could not help but smile as I looked at her.

A devious smile crept over my face as I pointed to her right. “Hey, is that a spider?” I asked, sounding calm.

“What? Where?” she blurted out.

Mom dropped her trowel to the ground as she bolted upright. She lunged towards me, letting out a sharp cry of fright that I’m sure the neighbours heard. A second later Mom was pressed to my chest and clutching my arms. I had not expected such an intense reaction from her and was unprepared when she practically threw herself against me, still looking behind, as if the non-existent spider was approaching her to attack. Seconds later my hand was planted on Mom’s left hip, almost grabbing her firm ass. As Mom wiggled closer to me my right hand slid up her slide so it was pressed to her left breast, pushing it up slightly. My fingers involuntarily curled around her mound and squeezed. It was firm, but too large to fit my palm. A moment later I felt her stiff nipple push into my palm. Those few seconds of accidentally groping my mother were the most glorious moments of my life up until that moment. When she leaned away and looked down to her chest I snatched my hand from her breast and moved it to just above her hip.

“You shouldn’t be touching me there, Luke.” Mom spoke in a monotone, as though she was too shocked or bewildered to raise any emotion.

“It was an accident, Mom,” I spat out. “I never expected you to freak out like that when you thought there was a spider there.”

“You know how terrified I am of spiders,” she said, then paused. “I never expected you to grab my boob — that’s what I never expected.” Mom gave me a dim smile.

“Sorry,” I said once more.

“It’s okay,” she said, then sighed. “Just my luck — the first man to feel me up in ages and it’s my own son, so I’m not even allowed to enjoy it.”

My mother’s remark, however flippant it may have been, stunned me. She was smiling, but I knew there was a strong undercurrent of truth to her statement. I was still holding onto her waist, while her hands were just below my chest.

“You can enjoy it if you want, Mom. I’ll never tell anyone,” I said, trying to sound calm.

Mom’s eyes widened when she heard my comment. She opened her mouth to say something, then slowly closed it and lowered her eyes.

“What were you going to say?” I asked.

“Nothing.” Mom’s voice was barely audible. It was as though she was scared of saying what she was thinking.

“Come on, Mom…” I encouraged her, trying to sound comforting to soothe her fears. I gently pulled her tighter against me so she could feel my hard-on against her soft stomach.

“I… I was going to say it happened too fast to really enjoy anyway,” she muttered, avoiding my eyes, then smiled.

“Should I do it for longer then?” I was trying to sound facetious, but she must have known that I really meant it.

Mom was about to say something, but stopped herself for a moment when I pressed my erection harder into the curve of her lower stomach. I noticed her eyes widen as she looked down at the bulge in my jeans. Her mouth opened and she raised her head to look at me in astonishment.

“You’re hard…” she said, almost sounding as though she was asking, rather than commenting on it.

I nodded, giving her a feeble smile.

“Because of me?” she asked in disbelief.

I nodded again, this time giving her a brazen grin. I looked down towards her left nipple. It was hard and poking out from her tank top. Even her areola seemed swollen.

“Yesterday, in my room… I thought I noticed it then too,” she said with a questioning look.

“Yeah… I told you that you looked good with just that towel wrapped around you and your hair all wet.” I gave Mom a nervous look, knowing I was being far too honest.

I waited for Mom to reply. She wasn’t even looking at me. Her head was tilted down. After a little while I couldn’t stand the silence anymore.

“Are you mad?” I asked.

“No. It just confuses me… if I’m mad at anyone, it’s myself,” she said, sounding bashful.

“Because you like it?” I asked, hoping I was right in my assumption.

Mom never answered. All she did was give me a slow nod, then lowered her eyes.

I slid my right hand up her side until it was pressed to her breast again. I gave it a gentle squeeze and rubbed my thumb over her hard nipple. I heard Mom let out a faint cry, but I couldn’t tell if it was from surprise or pleasure, or both. I gave her reddish cheek a soft kiss as I continued to fondle her breast.

“I love you, Mom,” I breathed into her ear.

“I love you too,” she replied as she let herself relax and slid her hands around to my back.

When I slipped my hand under her tank top and began moving it upwards I felt her body stiffen. She looked up at me, almost seeming frightened.

“Luke… no. Not here in the yard.” Mom’s pleading voice was almost a whisper.

“Where then?” I asked.

“Nowhere,” Mom asserted, finally able to meet my gaze.

My hand was still beneath her tank top, on her waist. I could feel her stomach quiver. I ran my hand over it, caressing her velvety skin. Her breathing had quickened and her eyes were narrower than before. The look of arousal on her face made my desire for her even stronger.

“Tell me you don’t feel it too, Mom.”

“We can’t give in to every emotion we have, Honey,” she replied in a husky voice. Her warm breath teased my neck as she spoke.

“Does that mean you have the same feelings as I do?” I asked.

“I never meant for it to happen. I swear. After your father left I was so lost and lonely. You were the only one who cared and understood me,” she gushed. “I’m so scared of losing you too, Luke. You don’t know how much I need you.”

“You’ll never lose me, Mom,” I promised.

I wrapped my arms around my mother. My right hand was still beneath her tank top. As I slid my hand around to her back, then up her spine, I saw her tank top rise up to expose her stomach. I looked down at her soft skin and wanted to see more. I pinched the hem of her top between my fingers and slowly raised it up, waiting for her to stop me. She didn’t. When her lacy blue bra came into view I felt my cock throb harder.

“I like your bra. It’s sexy,” I said.

“I bought a few sexy ones hoping your father would like them. I guess he cared more about how much was inside them than how they looked,” she said, then chuckled.

“What’s inside it look perfect.” I stared at Mom’s dusky nipples and small areolas showing through the lace. When I ran my fingertips over her left one she moaned.

“Tell me honestly, Mom. What do you want?”

“You,” she said in a soft, yet confident voice.

“How though?” I asked, wanting to be perfectly sure I fully understood her intent.

Mom nibbled on the corner of her mouth for a moment, looking shy. “On top…” she said with a smirk.

I bent down and kissed her moist lips. It surprised her and she gasped, then responded by opening her mouth wider. I pinched her bottom lip between mine and tugged at it before releasing it.

“Wow…” she gasped.

I smiled and ran my fingers down her flushed cheek, then kissed her again. My hard cock was pressed to her stomach. As she moved her hips she rubbed over it, making me even harder. Mom moaned. I began caressing her breast again and pushing the bulge in my jeans harder against her.

“You feel so hard,” she said, sounding surprised.

“Yeah… I am,” I groaned.

“Yesterday… in my room, when I hugged you I was shocked when I felt it against me.”

“What did you think?” I asked.

Mom giggled. “That you were a lot bigger than your father.”

I took Mom’s hand and pressed it to the bulge in my jeans, then began moving it over my hard-on. “Am I?” I asked.

Mom inhaled sharply as I moved her hand over the outline of my shaft and balls through my jeans. “Luke… wow,” she hissed, then let out a girlish laugh. She raised her eyes to mine and smiled. A few seconds later she removed her hand from my crotch. “I better stop before someone sees us,” she said.

“Come here,” I said. I took hold of Mom’s hand and began pulling her towards the house.

“Where are we going?” she asked, tugging at me to stop.

“Inside.” I gave her a sly smile.

Mom had stopped, as though her feet were anchored to the ground. “No… Luke, Honey…” she implored.

I stepped closer to her, until our bodies were almost touching, still holding her soft hand. “What?” I asked.

“You know what,” Mom shot back.

“No,” I said.

“Luke, I am your mother,” she said. “This… us… it’s crazy.

“Are we in love or insane then?” I asked.

“You know I love you with all my heart,” she told me.

“And I love you too, Mom. Nothing can ever diminish that; only make it stronger,” I assured her.

I could tell by the tortured look on Mom’s face that she was having a crisis of conscience. I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her cheek, then kissed down to her neck. She tilted her head to one side and moaned, holding onto me.

“You make it hard for a girl to say ‘no’,” she sighed.

I pulled my mouth from her tender neck and looked into her eyes. “You can if you want, you know,” I said.

“I know. But I don’t want to,” Mom said, then sighed once more. She clutched me tighter and buried her face in my neck. “Let’s go inside,” she murmured.

As soon as Mom and I were in the kitchen I backed her against the counter. I ran my hands up her smooth thighs, sliding my fingers as far under her shorts as I could to feel her firm ass. She was holding on to my shoulders, her hips swaying gently while I stroked her legs and ass.

“Lock the door in case someone comes over,” she said, darting her eyes towards the door.

I locked the door as quickly as I could, then took Mom by the hand. Neither of us said a word as we walked up the stairs. I was excited, but also nervous. I wondered if she felt the same. Once we were standing beside her bed I kicked my sneakers off and pulled my t-shirt over my head. I dropped it to the floor. Mom smiled and ran her hand up my chest, then down the trail of hair in the centre leading to my jeans.

“Your turn,” I said.

I tugged at Mom’s tank top, pulling it up towards her chin. After she raised her arms I pulled it off completely and tossed it aside. I slid my hands over her soft skin and around back. I unhooked her bra and slid it down her arms. Her breasts were even nicer looking than I had imagined. Her dark nipples were thick and hard, rising from her firm breasts, swaying slightly as she moved.

“You’re beautiful, Mom,” I said in a thick voice.

Mom blushed, giving me a modest smile. I pulled her to me and wrapped my lips around her left nipple. I sucked on it and ran my tongue around her areola as I squeezed her breasts in my hands. She moaned and glided her hand up the back of my neck to hold my head tight against her bosom, moaning into my ear.

When I began unbuttoning her shorts and tugged at the zipper Mom watched, seeming nervous. I slid them and her white panties down over her hips. I smiled as I saw her thin bush come into view. Mom’s shorts and panties fell around her feet. She stepped out of them and kicked them aside.

“Your body’s perfect,” I said, not taking my eyes off of her moist lips, peeking through her dark hair. I ran my hands up her thighs and over her ass, giving it a hard squeeze.

Whole I was exploring Mom’s exquisite body with my hands she began unfastening my jeans. Once the fly was down she tugged at them, easing the waistband of my underwear over my rigid shaft. It swelled and rose once my underwear was around my knees. I tugged my jeans the rest of the way off and pushed them aside.

Mom cupped my heavy balls in her palm and fondled them with her fingers. She ran her hand along the underside of my stiff cock, then squeezed it, feeling it throb. The tip of her tongue was running over her bottom lip as she stared at my shaft in her hand and gave it several slow strokes.

“Your cock is so nice,” she said, sounding mesmerized. “Yesterday when I felt it poking into me I wished I could play with it.”

Mom sat down in the edge of the bed and pulled at my hips, bringing me closer. When she gripped the base of my cock and ran her tongue over the reddish head I moaned. I held onto Mom’s shoulders and gripped them tighter when she wrapped her warm, wet lips around my cock and began sucking. She slid her mouth down, engulfing my rod and sucking harder as she moaned. After a little while Mom removed her mouth from my cock, seeming reluctant. She smiled up at me.

“I could do that all day, but I bet there’s somewhere else you want to put it,” she said.

Mom slid back towards the middle of the bed. She bent her legs and parted them, running her hands up the insides of her soft thighs as she looked up at me. The soft folds of her wet pussy parted. They were shiny wet with her musky juice. Mom ran her fingers over them and pressed down on her swollen clit. She moaned and dipped a finger inside.

“Come here, Honey,” Mom said, reaching her hands out towards me.

I crawled between my mother’s open thighs, running my hands up them as she tugged me by my hips. Her skin was soft against mine as she wrapped her legs around mine, urging me closer. She stroked my cock and rubbed the head of it over her clit. I pushed, pressing it harder against her swollen button and she moaned. I could feel her juice on my cock now, making it slide over her wet pussy.

“How long have you wanted me?” she asked.

“Almost since right after Dad left,” I confessed.

“Want to take his place, do you?” Mom asked with a smirk.

“Yeah…” I said with a sigh.

“Then claim me, Honey. I’m all yours from now on,” she said.

My throaty moan drowned out Mom’s as I pushed my cock in her. She was tight and it took a few seconds for her to adjust to me inside her. She gave my cock a squeeze as I sank it deeper inside her. Her pussy was hot and very wet. I gripped her shoulder and started pumping my hips. Mom began to moan louder and breath faster. She writhed beneath me and pushed back with her hips. Her breasts began to shake as I pushed harder and faster, feeling my balls slap against her.

“Oh god… Luke, your cock feels wonderful… fill me up, Honey… fuck my pussy… I’ve needed this for so long,” Mom said in a series of gasps.

The look of pleasure on my mother’s face made her more beautiful than she ever had before. I kissed her as I kept thrusting deep in her.

“You’re beautiful, Mom. I love you so much,” I said.

Mom wrapped her arms around my neck and her legs around my lower back, letting me get in her deeper. Her pussy was dripping wet now. I could hear the sounds of my shaft pumping in and out of her tight walls. I could feel myself getting closer, but I did not want our love making to stop. When Mom cried out and squeezed my cock I knew she had come. All it seemed to do was make her even more horny.

“Keep going, Honey… shove that thick cock in me… make me cum again… god, you make me so horny,” she cried out.

Mom reached down and began rubbing her clit. I was too excited to speak. I could have never imagined that having sex with her could feel so wonderful. When she came for the second time, harder than the first, I pulled out from her. I stroked my slick cock, watching her play with her dripping pussy.

“Cum on me, Honey.” Mom ran her hand over my thigh, watching me jerk off as she rubbed her clit.

“Oh god, Mom… I love you,” I cried out as I shot a stream of cum over her quivering stomach.

Mom began spreading my thick cum over her soft skin. While she did that I sprayed more over her. It landed on her stomach and hand. She licked it from her fingers, moaning as she sucked them into her mouth to clean my cum from them.

Mom was still playing with my sticky cum when I laid down beside her. I rolled over on my left side and pressed the length of my body against hers. She was soft and warm. I draped my thigh over hers and kissed her watery lips. She smiled.

“You were marvelous,” she said, running her hand down my flushed cheek.

“So were you,” I said. I kissed her cheek, then her breast. “I could have never imagined it being this good.”

“Have you tried imagining it?” she asked with a grin.

“Hundreds of times.” I gave Mom a shy smile and chuckled.

“What else have you imagined doing with me?” she asked.

“Give me a little while to rest and I’ll show you,” I said.

Mom rolled over to face me. She kissed my mouth and smiled.

“Take your time,” she said. “We’ve got the rest of our lives.”

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