Mother's Old Photos

"Don’t say sorry - I’m not now I can have sex whenever I want even when your father’s away." Then she said her mouth was dry and she would like a cup of tea - one without any extras added. I took her full mug down, emptied it down the sink washed it out and made us a cup of tea.

By the time I returned carrying the two steaming mugs I again had a steaming erection. "Down boy down." Mother said.

When we had finished our teas Mother said. "Well do I have to beg?"

I looked mystified, not fully comprehending the meaning of her words. She gave my cock a meaningful squeeze, more lewd than affectionate. "I was hoping you were going to put that where it belongs. Do you want me to turn over?"

"No on your back."

She threw back the covers, reached into the drawer of her bedside table and passed me a jar of Vaseline (petroleum jelly). "Use this it’s a lot more comfortable for me and probably for you." She said drawing her knees up to her shoulders exposing her cunt and anus to my gaze. Her anus was a swollen partially open bud, when I touched it, it felt as hot as its fire-engine hue suggested. I dipped my finger into the jar and smeared the greasy substance onto her. "Oh that’s so cool so nice. Now smear it on your prick." I did as she instructed, screwed the top back onto the jar.

Once again I knelt between her legs. She lifted them and wrapped them over my shoulders scissoring around my neck. Aware that she was awake and sore I tried to be gentle. The tip of my cock nudged ineffectually at the slippery bud. "Dammit I’m not a china doll shove it in. I want fucked not fucking tickled." Acting on her urging I plunged in.

A moment of panic, remembering the first time I had fucked her, I was afraid I might promptly shoot my load, but it did not happen.

She gasped as I entered her then my cock was buried in her, my balls resting against the spread rounded globes of her arse. Gently I began to move my hips. She responded gripping my neck raising herself. Her hands were near my lower back. Exquisite pain seared through me as she clawed at my back. I pounded harder into her.

Bucking like a two headed, four legged, four armed beast there was no love - if love is gentleness in our coupling. Just two people seeking physical gratification. Mother was yodelling. "Come on you little darling bang me … bang me … harder … harder … Don’t stop … If you stop now I’ll kill you … Harder … Harder … Harder … Oh sweet Jesus thank you thank you." As she subsided she rained kisses on me, not deep passionate kisses on my mouth but kisses all over my face. Then I came - and as I came I had a vision of my gallons of cum spraying around her bowels. The thought alone seemed to trigger the release of more spunk.

Although my cock had not totally softened I was going to pull it out, as I moved mother grasped me. "Lie still there’s more there yet. You can go again in a minute."

The next fuck started slowly and built up towards a crescendo. Mother came when I was still a long way from cumming. I stopped unsure of what to do. "Keep going." She urged, "I’ll cum again in a minute, and I’ll cum again, and again, and again until you stop." We carried on screwing, each time she came her legs tightened around my scrawny neck, squeezing me so tight that at times I feared I would faint.

I slowed the speed of my thrusts. Some inherent instinct told me that I could increase her pleasure if I stayed deep within her and ground my pubic hair area in a circular motion where it came into contact with her clitoris and pubic bone. Her nails raked at the cheeks of my arse and backs of my thighs, I could feel my warm blood flowing over my glowing skin. "Where the hell did you learn that?" She asked adding, "Don’t you dare stop just ignore me keep going."

Eventually even the sex drive of an adolescent became physically exhausted. My prick was a shrivelled-up shadow of its former proud self when it fell from her.

"Well! Well my little man has become a real man." Mother said as she clasped me to her. I lay still in her arms unsure whether or not I should respond. "Did you enjoy it?" She asked.

"It was fantastic."

"Do you love your old mother?"

"Mmmm yes." Was my somewhat desultory reply. This was a conversation that I was uncomfortable with.

"Well I love you - thank you for some of the best sex I’ve had in long time." Soon after saying this she gave me a kiss and sent me off to my own bed.

In the morning it was as if nothing had happened. Just a perfunctory peck on the cheek when I left the house, no passionate kiss, no cuddles.

Her question kept repeating itself through my head. Did I love her? What was love? Before that time I had never questioned the nature of love. That a child would love their parents seemed to be a part of the natural order of things. As natural a fact as the tide’s ebb and flow, or the changing phases of the moon. It was not a matter for question, but now I found myself asking the question. My dog-eared copy of "My Life and Loves" contained no satisfactory answer. If as Harris seemed to imply love and lust were one and the same, then I loved mother: but then I also lusted after long legged, golden haired Jennifer Trenoweth I must also love Jenny Trenoweth.

That night it was mother who took the initiative, half-past nine when she said to me. "I’m off to bed are you coming."

Questions that were banished from my mind as my cock sprang to attention and I followed her up the stairs. On the landing she gave my hand a squeeze, then dropped her hand onto the prominent hard lump in my jeans. "We don’t want the neighbours knowing. Go and switch on your bedroom light, come into my room when you’ve undressed." She said.

My mother a nymphomaniac! I mused as I undressed.

No sooner was I in her bed than she guided my hand down to her already damp sex, her clitoris felt as hard as my erect cock. As my fingers stroked the hard nub, I worked the palm of my hand in a circular motion against the raised fleshy mound that covered her pubic bone. Mother opened her legs wider affording me greater access to her sex.

I wormed my way down the bed, knelt between mother’s legs, raised them dipped my head and began to lick her already damp sex. Working my tongue up and down the crease on each side of the clitoris, by the movement of her hips she seemed to enjoy this. When I pointed my tongue and lapped the essence from her open orifice she slowed the motion - a sign I reckoned that this was not as enjoyable. I tongued the rim of the swollen, opening bud of her anus and was rewarded by movement from her hips. I kept circling the bud feeling it swell, passing my tongue over the top of it I could feel that it was starting to bloom. Her fingers clawed at my hair as she pulled me tighter to her. "Do it … do it … keep going … make me hot … Oh you little bugger how I love you." My tongue pushed into her opening, my taste buds sampling the exotic spiciness of her body. My nose, jammed tight against her pussy lips was bathed in the juices which seemed to ooze from every pore of her sex. At that moment it felt as if every part between her legs was a sex machine - my face must have been dripping with her juices.

Eventually she released my hair. I knelt up. She opened the drawer, I needed no instructions when she handed me the Vaseline jar. "Oh that’s so cool, so nice." She said, more to herself than me as I anointed my favourite orifice. Before handing the jar back I smeared the shaft of my rock-hard erection, pulled back my foreskin and coated the glistening head.

Her legs on my shoulders I entered her. I think that I was learning my lessons fast, this time I curbed my natural instincts and entered her slowly, wriggling rather than thrusting until once again the entire shaft was lodged in her. The slow action seemed to match her mood, she held me clasping me to her, until suddenly she exploded. Scratching, bucking her hips, urging me to do it harder. For a time from her cries and fragmentary sentences it seemed as if she was nearly cumming but was unable to cross the final hurdle before ecstasy. Finally she subsided with a long sighing moan. "Oh thank you lord." She said to no one. At some time during her frenzied thrashing I had shot my spunk into her, but my youth had soon restored my erection to full hardness.

We rolled onto her side when she said. "Let’s stay like this and roll onto our sides." Yet another new position. I moved my upper torso when, releasing the grip her legs had around my neck she said "Lie back, away from me."

Now we lay with our bodies at ninety degrees to one another, like clock hands at three o’clock. Staring into my eyes she trailed her fingers across my chest. I reciprocated by playing with her erect nipples, whilst admiring the firmness of her breasts. God my mother had a marvellous figure for a woman in her forties. I knew her long slim legs compared well to the legs of my classmates, that I had frequently ogled when we went swimming. Her breasts were firmer than those of any other woman I knew. I did not think that any other woman in the village would have sex with a teenager, son or not. Yes, I was really lucky to have a mother like mine.

Then the idyll was broken. "Karole," she said. "Tell me that you love me."

I sort of mumbled. Not satisfied with my reply she said again. "Tell me how much you love me."

Her insistent questioning brought to the fore the problem I had been trying to reconcile all day. I could not answer her. I could not look her in the eye. "Do you hate me. Do you despise me because of what we are doing. Was it OK when you did me and I was not a part of it. Have I shattered your illusions about your mother’s innocence."

"No! No! Its not that." I was indignant and angry. The dam tumbled down. I rolled over so I was on top of her, She tried to push me off but although only young I was already stronger than her. I thumped my prick into her, wanting to hurt her as she had hurt me. "Its not that at all." I pulled my cock out and pounded it back into her. "Its my fucking name." My cock pounded in and out in and out, she winced, the pain in her face spurred me on to hurt her. I wanted her to hurt to understand my own hurt. That day when I started school and every other time my names had afforded the other kids so much entertainment. "You must have really hated me to give me a name like that. A fucking girl’s name." I gasped as breathlessly I pumped in and out of her.

"Don’t be silly I never hated you I’ve always loved you." Then she said the words that inflamed my anger. "Karole is such a lovely musical name."

I was gripping her so tight my hands ached. My cock was smashing her insides as I wanted to smash her, pounding … pounding in and out, in and out. "You never thought of me when you named me. You were just selfish." I pounded in and out of her, punishing her until I had shot everything I had and my soft prick fell out of her. I think she was crying, I don’t remember. I was crying, I was sorry for what I had done it had been cathartic but my anger had evaporated.

All night she held me as I slept in her bed. Something that I could not understand had happened that night and the anger did not return. I did not sleep with mother again until after I had changed my name - she paid the lawyer's bill.