How to Eat an Elephant Ch. 05

"Not now, big boy. Not now."

The sweetest words I had heard. "Not now." That meant, "...but later." I couldn't wait for later.

When we got home, dad went right upstairs to bed while I helped Mom put things away in the kitchen. I pulled her to me, held her tight, and kissed her. I slid my hands down to her ass, pulling her onto my dick, and she didn't pull away. She whispered in my ear, "Don't ever let your father see you doing that."

If her words before were sweet, these were ambrosia. "Don't ever let your father see you doing that." What promise those words held.

She pushed me away. "He'll wonder what's taking me so long." She turned me around, swatted me on my ass, and said, "It's bed for you. See you in the morning."

I must have worked myself raw that night. I'd masturbate, fall asleep, wake up, and masturbate again. "Jesus," I thought. "Am I going to get to fuck her?"

The next morning, Mom had a surprise announcement for dad and me. "Sarah told me last night she had scored some tickets for Hamilton when the touring company comes near here, and we thought we might take the boys and give them some culture, for a change."

Dad grumped. All he wanted was to get out on the golf course again. "As long as I don't have to go. When is it?"

"Next weekend. We thought we'd use points and get hotel rooms so we don't have to drive back so late. We could go out to dinner, see the play, and then head back the next day."

She wouldn't look at me.

That was the longest week of my life. On Wednesday I couldn't take it anymore, and called Bill.

"Dude. You know about the play, right?"

"Yep. It'll be fun. A little culture might do you some good."

"It's not the culture I'm thinking about. Okay, look. I believe you. I can't believe it, but I believe you. You ate the elephant. What can I do?"

"Looks to me like you made a good start. I'll tell you this, and I heard it from a wise man. You want to get laid. Your Mom wants you to love her. You can't get what you want unless you give her what she wants. If you convince her you love her deeply and always will and that nothing you two do will mess you up or change that, then you've got a shot. It has to be real, though. You can't get what you want and then go back to the way you were. She has to know she can trust you to always love her and protect her."

"I can do that. I do love her."

"Have you told her that?"

I had to think. When was the last time I told Mom, unprompted, that I loved her?

Bill could tell by my hesitation. "Chris, you're fucking it up already. Have you at least texted her since this weekend?"

"Uh, no. Didn't have anything to say."

"So you made out with her in Jim's den, and then you don't even call her? What kind of message does that send? Man, you should be texting her or calling her every day, and you should do it the rest of your life. If you want this, you've got to work for it."

"Oh. Yeah. What was I thinking? Gotta go. See you Friday."

I texted her immediately. "Hi, Mom. How you doing? How are the trees?"

If a text could be cool, hers was. "Fine. They're taking root, I guess."

"I love you, Mom. Just wanted to tell you that."

She seemed to warm a little. "I love you, Christopher. You excited about this weekend?"

"Sure am. It'll be fun, won't it?"

"I think so."

I texted her every day after that, just to check in. I have to tell you, I've texted her every day since then. I may not always say it, but just sending the text tells her, "I love you."

The power of communications.

We took the train down on Friday evening. The plan was to go out for a late dinner, spend Saturday touring the city, and then go to dinner and the play Saturday. We'd return on the Sunday morning train.

We got into the city about 7:00, checked into the hotel, and got ready for dinner. I heaved a sigh of relief, because I didn't know what the sleeping arrangements would be. I feared the Moms would take one room and put us in the other. To my relief, we had four separate rooms, side by side on the same floor. We put our bags in the room, and I took Mom in my arms to kiss her. She kissed me, but then pushed me away. "Don't rush, Chris. We've got some talking to do."

We found a nice Italian restaurant near the hotel and had dinner. I normally eat like a horse, but I just picked at my food. My appetite was for something else, and it was raging.

After dinner we returned to the hotel and went to our rooms. Mom got a glass of wine from the mini-bar and sat down. "Come talk to me, Chris."

She looked at me. "Honey, I don't know where you think this is going, but it's probably not going to be what you really want."

"Mom, what I want is to love you. I've always loved you, and I'm sorry I haven't always shown it. I won't lie. I want you more than I've ever wanted a woman, and more than I'll ever want anyone in the future, but really all I want is to love you."

"You really mean that?"

"Of course I do."

"You'd be happy if we didn't do anything? No matter what the others might be doing?"

"Hell, no, I wouldn't be happy. But I'd be satisfied, as long as you know I love you."

She stood up, came to me, and sat on my lap. She was wearing a little black dress, kind of low cut in the front. As she sat on my lap, those tits were right at my face. I couldn't help it. I bent forward and kissed her cleavage. She bent her head down and pulled my face into her tits. Her glorious tits. She kissed me on the top of my head.

"You've wanted these for a long time, haven't you?," she purred in my ear.

"You have no idea. No idea."

I didn't know what to do then. How do you fuck your Mother? If she were someone I was dating, I'd know what to do. But your Mother? How do you get her naked? Will she get naked? Will she laugh at me when I get naked?

She took charge. After all, she was still Mom, always in charge. She reached behind her, unzipped her dress, pushed it down over her arms, and then reached behind again to release her bra. She took it off, one arm at a time, and threw it on the floor.

There were those beautiful tits, right in my face. I can't tell you how many times I dreamed about those tits. I reached up and touched her right nipple with my hand. She smiled at me, and nodded slowly. I tweaked her nipple between my thumb and finger, and pulled it a little. I leaned forward, and took just the nipple in my mouth, sucking it gently. She held her breast for me, feeding it to me, while she stroked my hair. I started sucking more aggressively, taking as much of her breast in my mouth as I could, and she moaned.

"Oh, Chrissy. Oh, Chrissy." She hadn't called me Chrissy for years, but I loved hearing it. I hated it before, but I loved it now.

She shifted me to her other breast, and again I sucked as much of it in my mouth as I could. Sucking, I scrubbed her nipple with my tongue. She moaned louder, then pushed me off her tit and stood up.

"I never thought I'd say this to you, but Chris, come to bed. Come to my bed."

I looked at her. "You don't have to ask me twice," and we both laughed.

She took her dress off, pulled her panties down, and stood at the foot of the bed, naked before me. Her bush was untrimmed and the same color as her hair. I fell to my knees in front of her and buried my face in her pussy. I licked it, from bottom to her clit, and she held me into her. She pulled me up, and unbuttoned my shirt. I was trembling like a stallion.

She got my shirt off and, keeping direct eye contact, undid my belt and undid my trousers. Pushing them down, she dropped to her knees to take them completely off. She reached up to take the waistband of my boxers, pulled them down, and there it was. My dick was right in her beautiful face.

She looked up at me, took my dick in her left hand, and rubbed it against her cheek. This time I moaned. She smiled at me, opened her mouth, and took me in. She pulled off, kissed the head of my dick, and then took me in again with a suck. She worked me a bit, and then stood up.

"More of that later, Honey, but right now I need you in me."

We fell back on the bed, with me between her legs. She reached down, took me in her hand, and guided me to the lips of her vagina.

"Go easy, Honey. It might take me a while to get used to it."

I slid in, all the way to the bottom. She was tighter than I expected. I mean, I came out of that thing, didn't I? How tight could it be after that? But it was. She squeezed me with her muscles, and I settled into a gentle thrusting motion.

"Mom. You're perfect. I can't believe this."

"Me, either, Honey. I didn't intend for this to happen, but it seems like it is, huh?"

I groaned, and continued to fuck her. Her breasts were flopping to her side, and she put her arms under them to hold them up. I bent and took her left breast in my mouth, sucking as we fucked.

She giggled and said, "Let me show you what I really like." Then she pushed me onto my back and mounted me. She raised her upper body, and her tits were right in my face. I obliged her, sucking furiously while she fucked me. It didn't take her long, and she was picking up the pace while she grunted and moaned. Her moans raised in pitch, she fucked me rapidly, and then she stiffened, giving a high-pitched squeal.

She held it for a moment, shuddering against me, and then collapsed on my chest. "You see why we were always careful having sex when you were young? I'm a little noisy, I guess."

"You're a little wonderful, Lisa. I have never had anything like that. Ever."

She slid down my chest and gave me a flirting little smile. "What does my big boy want his Mother to do for him?"

I've never been one for dirty talk in bed. I was always embarrassed when I'd try it. I didn't know what to say. But this time I knew exactly what to say.

" I want you to suck my dick for me, Mom. Suck it for me."

She took me in her mouth, sucking while she pumped my shaft with her hand. Who would have thought it? My Mom gave an expert blowjob. She positioned herself so she held her weight with her right arm, jacking me with her left hand. I hunched up to meet her movements, fucking her face. Fucking her beautiful face. The face that had always smiled at me across the breakfast table, even when I was grumpy in the morning. The face that always looked at me with love.

"Mom. I can't hold it. Maybe you'd better come up here."

She took her mouth off me. "Oh, no you don't. I don't want you to hold it. I want you to give it to me."

She went back to work and I arched my back as my orgasm started, from somewhere deep within me. I've had my share of blowjobs. I've cum in my share of mouths. I have never had a blowjob like this one. She wanted my cum, and she was going to do whatever it took to get it.

Grunting, I gushed in her mouth. She never missed a beat. She rubbed her tongue against the head of my dick and, because I was cumming, the extra sensitivity of it was almost painful. She swallowed and swallowed, until I was finally dry.

She came back up to me and kissed me. "Was it what you hoped it would be?"

I looked at her, at her beautiful face. I think my face said it all. But I said, "No. I wanted chocolate sprinkles." When I was a kid, I always wanted chocolate sprinkles on my ice cream, and pitched a fit if I didn't get them.

She gave a belly laugh. "Never satisfied, you. I'll just have to keep practicing until I get it right for you."

We spent all night, fucking and sleeping, fucking and sleeping. Saturday morning everyone met downstairs for breakfast. There were some tired looking faces around the table, I have to tell you. I didn't know about the others, but I was flat worn out. Fucked out.

The play, as good as it was, was anticlimactic. The dinner before it may have been a gourmet meal. I don't know. All I could think of was this beautiful woman beside me, holding my hand in her lap.

Sunday morning, we were at it again with her on top. She loved to be on top. In the middle of it, she reached over to the nightstand and picked up her cellphone. "I promised I'd call your dad before he hits the links," she said, and I laughed.

"Now?"

He answered, and she put him on speaker, giving me a shushing motion with her finger against her lips.

"Hi, Honey. You getting ready to go? I wanted to catch you before you head out."

"Yep. Just getting ready to leave. How was the play?"

"It was great. Everything about his weekend has been magical." She raised herself off me and took my dick in her hand.

"How's Chris? He having fun?"

"Oh, I think so. He and the boys have their own room. God knows what they got up to last night. I think he's had the time of his life." When she said that, she bent down and took me in her mouth, sucking gently.

"I doubt that. It's just a play, you know."

She slipped her mouth off my dick. "Ha. You never know what will inspire a boy, Honey. I think he may have found his focus."

"I hope so. Well, I've gotta go, Honey. See you tonight."

"Okay. Get a hole in one."

When the call ended, she giggled. "Did you like me talking with your dad while I sucked your dick, Chrissy?" She was talking in a flirting, little girl voice, and it made my dick harder.

I pushed her back down. What did she think? I couldn't help but wonder, though. There was no guilt there. She was sucking my dick while talking to dad. Had she ever cheated before? Seems like she kind of got off on it.

After she swallowed me again, she snuggled with me. "You know I love your father, don't you? That won't ever change. He'll always have me, and now you'll always have me. He won't know he's sharing with you, and you can never let on that you're sharing with him."

"Mom, I think there's enough of you to go around," and I squeezed her breast.

The first fuck is for the experience of it. The first time. The second fuck is for performance, and we had done that the night before. The third fuck was for love. We made love gently, snuggling with each other until it came time to get dressed to leave.

Standing at the train terminal, we all stood holding hands. Just four Mothers and their Sons, holding hands in the train terminal. Nothing to see here, folks. Just innocent affection.

But I knew. I knew my buddies had fucked the weekend away, just as Mom and I had done. I looked around the terminal. How many other guys in here are fucking their Moms? In the whole city, how many sons are fucking Mom. Right now?

It didn't matter. It was cool to think about, now that I knew it really did happen, but all that mattered was one thing.

I loved my Mother. I was fucking my Mom.