Mom and I Go on Vacation

I ran my middle finger up and down her vulva. Mom's hands tightened on my back.

It was time. I plunged my index, my middle, then my ring finger into her cunt, soaking them in her sex. I dragged them through her vulva to her clit, further lubricating it.

I pushed my middle finger back into her hole. My ring finger then entered her, increasing the pressure along the roof of her tunnel. Mom jerked and groaned; I'd found her g-spot.

Our kisses were desperate and sloppy.

I covered her sex with my palm, pressed down, worked her wet tingly clit with the heel of my hand while rubbing the roof of her vagina. Mom started bucking. I finger fucked her with increasing speed and intensity.

"Oh baby, feels good, finger Mommy, finger Mommy."

Mom stopped kissing me, pulling my head to her neck. Using a corkscrew motion, twisting from the wrist, I drove my fingers into her as deep and hard as I could. Mom dug her short nails into my back. I continued working her clit with a tight circular motion. Mom pushed up hard, jamming her clit into my hand.

"Oh god, that's it, that's it, almost there, almost there, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, eeeerrrrrggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! OH FUCK YES!"

Mom came in a short sudden burst. Her arms tightened on my back and then let go as she cried out in a plaintive burst of air. Her cunt contracted around my fingers.

She whimpered and sank back onto the bed. Her eyes were closed, her face relaxed. I pulled my hand from her now soaked panties, kissed her forehead, then her mouth, gentle pecks. She was quiet for a beat or two, then, in a voice soft and dreamy said, "That was so nice."

I looked into her face and she smiled and I saw the tears. She noticed me noticing and wiped them away with her hand.

"I didn't mean to get all blubbery with you."

I kissed her once, on the nose. "It's fine Mom. I'd cry too but, y'know, guy stuff."

And I held her and we talked and our hands drifted over each other's body. We said nothing profound, just letting each other know that, after we'd broken the ultimate taboo, we could still speak to each other, could still be normal.

However, no guy would be normal if he could lay in bed with this woman for long without the focus turning carnal. I started, almost absentmindedly, fiddling with her breasts, running a finger tip along their contours, holding them in my hands, enjoying their heft. The conversation petered out, replaced my Mom's heavy breathing as she became absorbed in the sensations flowing from her chest. I straddled her, kissed the globes, took my time. When I reached a nipple I gave it a long hard lick.

Mom sighed. Her eyes were shut. I scanned her body. She was a gift I never thought could be mine. I moved to her face and kissed her with barely controlled passion, and whispered, "Right now I want to focus on you."

I moved back. My fingers moved from her shoulders to her breasts. I held them, touched them, licked around her areolas, over her nipples, along the undersides. When I lightly raked my teeth over the nipples she squirmed in delight.

"I like that."

I cupped her breasts, at first gently squeezing, gauging her reaction, increasing the pressure. She mewled in satisfaction. I rolled her nipples between my fingers, sucked them into my mouth, flicked them with my tongue.

Mom was shaking.

I started kissing down her belly and pulled aside the sheet, exposing her body from knees up. I stared at her panties, thinking of what was underneath. I pressed my hand to her pelvic bone, feeling the heat from her sex. I slid the hand down, felt her pussy lips through the fabric. She was wet. I ran my tongue over the face of her pussy through her panties, took hold of them, inched them down to her knees. I looked at her bare pussy for the first time.

Mom's sex was beautiful. Her long pussy lips were wet and swollen; her hair was neat, short, trimmed. The clit, having pushed aside its hood, was exposed. It was large. I placed my hands on her knees, spread her lean muscular legs, and licked and kissed her thighs, occasionally blowing a stream of hot air across her clit. I ran my tongue along her vulva, sucked its warm lips into my mouth. I licked lightly across her pussy and moved down, dragging my tongue along her perineum. I spread the copious flow of her juice over the face of her cunt with my fingers, then immersed my face in the warmth and smell of her sex. Her juice spread over my mouth and jaw, oozed into my nose.

I gave her pussy a French kiss, flicking my tongue back and forth, up and down, at every angle, speed, and power I could imagine. I tried short strokes, long strokes, positioning my mouth at different angles and at different locations, then moved my mouth to the vaginal opening, curled my tongue, pushed it inside her. Imagining she was an ice cream cone, I licked the length of her sex, then tried quick licks from side and side, occasionally capturing her clit between my lips, sucking on it.

Mom was moaning and jerking.

I had built up a wad of saliva in my mouth. I let it drip out onto Mom's vulva. It flowed down to her pussy. I slid a finger inside her, exploring the roof of her vagina. Mom jumped and gasped, "Ohmigod." I had found Mom's g-spot. A steady flow of liquid ran from her pussy to the crevice of her ass. I rotated my hand and fingered her asshole with my pinky. In response Mom, who was breathing in short hard gasps, grunted, "I like." I inserted my pinky, up to the first joint, in her butt.

Mom was breathing heavily, moaning, grabbing the sides of my head, thrusting her hips into my face. She was ready. I sucked her clit into my mouth, captured it between my lips, battered the head with my tongue. Mom moaned and squirmed; losing herself in the hard relentless attack. Bucking and moaning, she grabbed my hair, pulled my face into her snatch.

"Oh John, fingers, tongue, so good, so good, so good."

Mom's head bounced, her hair flung around, her yelps, bordering on screams, intensified.

"OH YES, DON'T STOP, DON'T STOP, HONEY I LOVE IT."

Her moans heightened; she started yelling.

"EAT ME BABY, EAT YOUR MOMMY'S CUNT."

I kept slapping her clit, screwing my fingers inside her pussy. Mom shook and twisted.

"OH GOD JOHNNY, I'M CUMMING."

Cream gushed from her pussy. I didn't slow down. She came again. Her pussy gripped tightly on my finger, pulsating with each orgasm as it washed over her. I continued licking and finger fucking her, reached a hand to her breast, squeezed it. When I pinched a nipple she went over the edge again.

"OOOOHHHHH GGGGOOOOOODDDDD!!"

I wasn't sure. Was she coming from before or coming again? I took hold of her hips, pulled them to me, and slowed it all down, laying the flat of my tongue on her clit, moving it gracefully around. Her body jerked in a series of sweet small follow-up orgasms. I drank the fluid that poured from her.

She stopped moving. I kissed and licked her thighs until, in a soft voice, she said, "Come here my love."

I crawled up next to her.

She rolled over to face me, her eyes aglow.

"That was wonderful. It's never been like that before, never been that good. I love you my beautiful son, I always will."

I didn't know how to respond, but I did not need to. My erection brushed against her. She reached for it, wrapped her fingers around it.

"This needs some attention. Just give Mommy a second to rest."

She kissed me. Her lips were soft and sweet. She closed her eyes, whispered again that she loved me, and seamlessly fell into a deep happy content sleep.

I lay there about ten minutes holding her, before realizing she was out for the night. I looked at the clock. It was close to midnight, hours after Mom usually went to bed. She was not getting back up. My dick was throbbing. I considered waking her; I considered masturbating. The first seemed cruel, the second oddly disrespectful; I did neither. I got out of bed and sat in the dark, thinking about what had just happened, what had happened over the last several years, what had happened on our vacation. At 3:00 A.M., my cock flaccid, my balls no longer aching, I crawled into bed next to Mom.

I woke at 9:30. Mom was gone. A moment of panic was pushed aside by the realization that she was on her morning jog. A glance at the corner where she kept her running shoes confirmed the thought; they were gone. For the next hour I, ruminating, looking into my own heart, drifted in and out of sleep.

I was finally awoken by Mom.

"Get up sleepy head."

I opened my eyes. Mom didn't dress up often, but she was dressed up now. Her red dress clung to her chest and hips while floating freely around her thighs. The neck was open past her breasts, exposing a hint of cleavage. She noted the appreciative look in my eyes and pirouetted. The slit in the skirt opened, exposing her leg, the top of her stockings, the straps of a garter belt, and more than a hint of flesh.

Mom had followed my eyes. She planted her foot on the end table, displaying her undergarments. She had painted her toenails a deep sexy red and was wearing red leather stiletto 4 ½ inch heels with a pointed toe and some strappy detailing. With those heels, I thought, she'd be slightly taller than Dad.

"Jeez Mom, you look incredible. Very sexy. I didn't know you owned stockings."

"You don't think it's a bit over the top."

I looked at her for a minute, thinking about her question. She looked great and the dress was classy, appropriate for a first-rate restaurant. But there was something that seemed a bit off. Then it struck me; the dress was happy, joyful, not clothes you wore to something sad.

"Well, you don't look like somebody going to hear bad news. You look sexy, joyful. "

"Good, that's exactly how I want to look. Your dad is taking us to Bacchanalia, one of Atlanta's best restaurants, to tell you he's leaving me. The choice was no accident. He'll be comfortable there, he and Bev D'Angelo eat there often. He wanted a proper place, a place where no one would make a scene, where he will be in control. I sure he'll be in a power suit. So I thought, why give in? Today's a day to celebrate. My beautiful son made wonderful love to me last night. It's a day to wear something fun, something sexy, something that recognizes that this might not just be his day, but a day to revel in my new life. So, what do you think?'

"Think? I think you look great."

"Thanks honey. You better get ready. I know I left you high and dry last night. When we get back I'll make it up to you."

I stood, quite naked, and she sidled up to me, put her hands around my neck, and kissed me. Then she stopped, seeing the serious look on my face.

"What's going on?"

"There is something I need to tell you."

There was concern in her green eyes. "Good news I hope."

"Yeah, good news. After you fell asleep last night I stayed up late, just thinking. Hit the sack around three. Everything that has happened is so new, so amazing. I thought about it, searched my feelings. There was one thing I was sure of. I want you to know. I love you."

Mom's voice was tentative. She knew what she wanted it to mean, but was cautious, afraid she might misinterpret. "I love you too son."

"No Mom, not like that. I love you as a man loves a woman. I want to be your man, I want you to be my lady."

Mom cocked her head to the side, studied my face, wondered whether this was simply a remnant of last night's romp.

Finally, with a slight nod of her head, she said, "You're serious, aren't you?"

"Yes."

She continued. "I am too son. I love you. Sometime during our trip last summer I realized I was in love with you. I woke up one morning, looked at you lying next to me, still asleep, and knew it to an absolute certainty. I don't know whether I fell in love with you that morning, or on the trip, or whether I've been in love with you forever. But I've looked at it over and over, from every angle, with my heart and with my head, and it's real."

I kissed and held her, only letting go when she insisted I get ready. I would have blown off Dad and crawled back into bed with her, but this lunch was important. It was her opportunity to announce that her life was not ruined, that she was ready to move on, to live without him.

While I got ready, donning a light blue shirt and khakis, Mom finished her make-up and pinned up her hair. She looked great. I took her hand in mine. We walked to the car. Mom started laughing.

"Just think, I'm bringing my new lover to lunch with my soon to be ex. What would Miss Manners say?"

I opened her door and was treated to a brief flash of bare flesh as she stepped in, one leg at a time. I got in I and took a deep whiff of her perfume; it was light and breezy, perfect for the day. I held her hand on the ride over. When we got to the restaurant I didn't see a place to park. I offered to drop her off while I hunted for one, but she said she preferred to be with me. I drove around a few corners before finding an empty commercial lot. I parked and opened her door.

I was rewarded. With her right foot on the pavement and left foot in the car, Mom turned her body and dug through her purse for a tube of lipstick and gave herself a quick touch up. Her legs were open, the top of her stockings and thigh visible. I stared, fixated on the soft skin just below where her panties must be.

"How do I look?"

"Great."

"Okay, let's go see your father."

When we got to the restaurant we linked arms and walked in. The hostess directed us to Dad, who was sitting with his back to the door. He wore a navy blue suit, red tie, and white shirt. Mom and I chose the seats against the wall. I pulled out her chair. While Dad's eyes fixed on Mom's outfit she playfully squeezed my arm and sat down. I kissed her on the cheek. Mom gave me a teasing wink.

We ordered cocktails. Mom took the pin from her hair and shook her head. Her hair fell about her in a blonde cloud, momentarily hiding her face and shoulders. I wanted to kiss it, ripple it through my fingers, bury my face in it. Dad just stared. Was he, for a moment, doubting his decision? Mom fluffed her hair a few times, checked a mirror, and excused herself, heading for the stairs leading to the bathroom. I kept my eyes on her tight round ass, watching her hips rock from side to side. I saw, or at least thought I saw, the top of her stockings as her dress swished back and forth with each step. My cock was rock hard.

"Quite a dress your Mom has on."

"Yes Dad, she looks great."

"You don't think she's making a spectacle of herself?"

"Your wife's a beautiful woman. She attracts attention. The dress is appropriate; I see nothing wrong with it."

Dad harumphed, "That's one of the reasons we're getting together today."

My phone beeped. I glanced at the message. It was from Mom: "I am so hot for you right now."

My dick got stiffer.

Mom returned a few minutes later. I pulled out her chair. She sat and crossed her legs, revealing a long expanse of flesh, letting the hem of her dress creep up, displaying the clasp of her garter.

The hostess appeared with our drinks and placed them on the table. Mother leaned forward, then paused, rewarding me with a look down her cleavage at her braless breasts. I tried not to leer. She leaned back and took a sip of her drink.

As you can imagine, I barely heard the conversation. Mom was driving me crazy. What was occupying my mind were her sleek legs, the curve of her hips, the smooth skin of her cleavage. The waiter returned for our food order, but I hadn't opened the menu. Dad asked for his usual, whatever that was; Mom ordered the trout and I, after glancing at the specials, chose lamb.

Dad started talking. "We've grown apart... New opportunities... Tried our hardest... Difficult decision... We both still love you..." This was it, I was getting the divorce talk.

He noticed my wandering attention. "You okay John?"

"Yeah Dad, it's just big news. I didn't know."

Mom brought her martini to her lips to hide her smirk. She ran a stiletto heel up my leg.

The waitress arrived with our food. Dad continued, saying, as far as I could discern, the same thing over and over in an increasingly leaden manner. About half way through the meal I excused myself. When I got to the bathroom there was another message from Mom: "I want you."

I sent a reply: "Every guy here is staring at you. I'm gonna fuck you til the sun comes up."

When I returned Mom's cell phone was on the table, her hand partially covering it. She was talking to Dad.

"Roger, what time is sunrise tomorrow?"

He looked a bit confused, but answered. "Around 7:00. Why do you ask?"

"With the clouds we had in the sky today, it might be a spectacular sunrise. I thought I'd get up and enjoy it. And with you at the office so early each day, I figured you'd know."

Dad looked at Mom, his chest puffed up at her recognition of how hard he worked, his brow furrowed at a grown woman who cared about sun rises.

Dad resumed: "Its best for all concerned... Don't you doubt it, your Mom's a special lady... This didn't mean he didn't love me... or her... I would always have a home with him..."

I was trying to pay attention, really I was, but Mom kept running her heel up and down my leg and my mind was mostly on ripping her clothes off. Finally Dad excused himself, heading for the facilities.

"Mom, you're driving me nuts."

"Good, what you said earlier, did you mean it?"

In my state of arousal it took a moment to figure out what she meant.

"That I love you?"

She nodded.

"Oh yes Mom, I love you."

Mom later told me my face reflected total sincerity. She took my hand, leaned close to me. Her tone and manner were conversational, calm and dignified. No one watching us would have any idea what we were saying.

"I keep looking at your father and thinking that for twenty years he's been as boring in bed as he is right now. When we had sex, it was at night, him on top, lights off. He never used his mouth on me. I haven't come in a decade.

"When we get home I want you to fuck me like a whore. Not all the time, but some times, and most definitely today," and then, in a tone of childlike sincerity while running a hand up my erection, she added, "If you don't mind?"

I stroked her thigh, running my hand above her stockings. I was trying to frame a response, but all I could think about was her hand on my dick. Finally, I croaked out, "No, not at all. Fuck you like a whore. Got it."

Dad returned, sat down, resumed talking. "People change... Your mother is a wonderful woman, but... I love her, but I'm not in love with... We just grew apart... We had the same fight over and... Relationship has run its course... Best for all concerned..."

The waiter removed our dishes and Mom asked for the dessert menu. Dad wasn't interested, but Mom ordered a Warm Valrhona Chocolate for her and I to share and then excused herself. She returned a few minutes later, promising a surprise. Part one of the surprise appeared seconds later. The waiter arrived with three glasses of champagne.

Mother held up her glass. "I would like to propose a toast. Some years ago Roger came to me and suggested ending to our marriage. I agreed, but asked him to delay the process and to respect certain conditions - ones I thought showed his respect for me. He gave his word and he's kept his word. I propose a toast to Roger for his decency, humanity, honesty."

Dad seemed genuinely moved. As Mom leaned towards me to click our glasses she ran her fingers along my erection and dropped her panties in my lap. I couldn't believe it. She had gone to the bathroom and peeled off her underwear. The panties were black and soft with a delicate embroidery. My cock twitched. I put my napkin in my lap, hid her panties in it, and brought them to my mouth. They were warm and wet. I took a deep sniff; I could smell my mother's pussy, the odor musty and sensual. Mom was as aroused as I. I looked at her. She winked.