Mom Takes It Slow

I found the papers scattered near the curb where an animal, or those big black crows must have torn open the garbage bag before it was taken away. I don't usually pick up things from the street, but the bright green ink caught my attention. The four pages were obviously torn out of a book and one was dated. They didn't seem to be in order; I started reading.

May 27

I was happy looking at him naked, thinking that it was my body that was making him so big, and hard. I wanted it so much, and I wanted it wherever he wanted to put it.

My channel became a sheath that grasped, and caressed, my young man. He was thick in me and I never wanted it to stop. I didn't know if it was so good because he was such an expert lover or because having sex with him was the most forbidden lovemaking I could imagine, but at that moment, none of it mattered. The only thing I cared about was that he was inside me, and making me a woman who was desired again.

I asked him if he loved me and he said, "Of course I love you mom."

My mouth must have opened in astonishment as I read those words. A mother was writing about fucking her own son. I could feel myself hardening as I continued to read.

"Tell me baby…please tell me." I knew what I wanted to hear…and what I didn't want to hear was ‘Because you're my mother'. I wanted him to tell me something that would make it all right.

He must have instinctively known, because he answered, "I love you because you're a brave woman…because you're beautiful, and you feel good…and it feels right when I'm inside you like this, because you love me, and because we're for each other and you belong to me…don't you Lana?"

"Yes Andy, I do…yes baby." I thrilled at the sound of my name in his mouth, and he pressed deeper into my pussy. I wanted to hear it again and I said, "Lana would give you anything…everything...my sweet Andy."

He said, "Yes Lana…I can feel it…the way you take me inside you…Lana…Lana." Each time he said my name it was like a stroking, deeper into me than any man had ever gone, into a place that's physically inaccessible. It made me want to come. I surrendered to the sensations and my orgasm rocked me. I told Andy I was coming and he said, "Yes mom, come on my cock…come." The way he spoke, I knew he hadn't come yet. I'd never come twice with a man who hadn't finished once.

I was momentarily exhausted but I wanted more. I didn't have to worry. I would get more. I'd always read in books about lovers who made love all night. I thought it was a fantasy, until that night with my son Andy.

I was hard as a rock by then, standing in the street, unable to take my eyes from the pages. I wasn't sure if the next page was a continuation or a new entry. It had some lines crossed out that I couldn't make out, and then it went on.

He let me rest a few minutes before starting to stroke my pussy with his hand. I was ready as soon as his slippery finger uncovered my clit and circled it with just the right amount of pressure. He picked up the signals of my body movements and sounds without my having to say anything. He knew how to press, where to press, and when to press.

He brought himself to my opening and his hardness opened my vagina; he filled me once more with his manhood. I was proud that the one who was making me feel so good was my son.

He stroked into me from different angles and each way produced different sensations. He was thick, long, and straight, and he opened me totally. I was glad that I was as wet as I was.

There must have been more to that entry, but I couldn't find it as I leafed through the papers. The next one I read continued in the same erotic and romantic vein.

He hadn't said much about my body, but I liked hearing him say, "You have a nice ass, mom." He felt it, and fingered it and it seemed to excite him. After stroking me for a long while he said, "When I'm ready mom, can I come in you?"

I said, "Yes darling, it's okay, come inside me; I want you to." As he took me and made me hotter, I wanted to say things I'd never said to any lover, that I loved his cock in me, that I wanted his cum to fill my pussy. I was too ashamed to say it to my son, but I wasn't too ashamed to feel it. I couldn't remember anyone staying inside me for that long. He seemed able to decide for himself when to have his orgasm.

He leaned down and whispered in my ear between licks with his tongue and that made me shiver. He said, "Are you ready mom? I'm going to come in you…I'm going to fill your pussy with my cum…I'm going to give it all to you."

"Yes baby," I said. "Fill mommy's pussy, fill me…fill me…" By then, I was ready to come again and when he touched my clit, I arched and began the spasms that stiffened my whole body. I cried out to him and the first cord of hot cum shot into my pussy. My son was coming in me and I was coming with him and everything was a swirl of liquid and thrashing and humping and pounding.

I was so relieved after climaxing, I started laughing and hugging him to me. I wrapped my legs around him and squeezed as hard as I could until he started laughing too. "I love you so much mom," he said as he placed a bouquet of kisses on my face. "I'll always love you, always." His kiss told me that it was more than sex and I answered him with my opened heart.

"My sweet baby, momma's always going to love you too." I couldn't believe that I wasn't self-conscious, even though I was naked, with my legs opened in front of my son. He made me feel comfortable and warm in his presence, as he stroked me with his hand and explored me with his fingers. I was finally with a lover who could touch my soul with as much feeling as he could touch my body. I could finally give myself to the man that I wanted to have me.

That was all, but that was enough. I had a rush to every part of my body. It was the most exciting thing I had ever read…and I knew it was all bullshit. I knew not one word of it was true, because I was standing in front of my own house, and my mom's name is Lana, and none of it had happened, because my name is Andy.

The fantasy I had been reading was in my mother's handwriting, in the green ink from her favorite pen. The most shocking thing about it was - how could I have never known how she felt? Sure, she had always been a warm loving mother, but I had never felt anything sexual from her.

Maybe I was jumping the gun…she was always scribbling and had some things published in local papers…maybe it was just a writing thing, a wacky flight of erotic fancy that didn't have anything to do with the way she really felt.

I went back and forth with it for hours and the only thing I was certain about was that she would never again be just ‘Mom' to me. Before she came home from work, I came twice just thinking about her. I always thought that she had a good body and a pretty face, but those pages had changed my attitude towards her forever. My mother now seemed sexually appealing and maybe, sexually attainable. I imagined being inside her and the possibility that it might actually happen made it that much more exciting.

I couldn't wait for her to come from work. I wanted to look at her with my new eyes, listen for the words between the words, watch her watch me. When she finally did get home, I couldn't see a thing. I kissed her hello and told her that she looked great. She looked at me as if I was nuts.

She smiled and said, "Well, what's gotten in to you?"

I said, "Nothing, just saying hello."

"Oh, that's nice - are you sure you're not in some kind of trouble…do you need money?"

I said, "No mom, I'm fine." I had stopped taking money from her ever since I got a job in my senior year in high school. After graduating I talked about getting my own place but she had convinced me not to rush and to stay at home for a while longer. She made dinner and she acted as she always had, just like my mom, not like the woman who wrote that she wanted her son to have sex with her.

While we ate I couldn't help checking her out. I looked at the swell of her breasts and imagined what her nipples would look like. I had only seen them once when I was younger; she was getting dressed and didn't know I was home. I remember that they covered the ends of her tits and were pinkish. Her boobs were also larger than I expected because she was so slim and never wore tight clothes. In the years that past she may have put on a few pounds but didn't look much different.

This may sound a little strange, but we had different last names so even her name turned me on, Lana Monzano…Lana Monzano; two rounded syllables on top, then a triangle of sounds like legs opened with another triangle at its apex. Okay, I guess I was going a bit nuts, especially when I stared at her.

I guess she saw the attention I was paying her and she said, "Are you sure nothing's wrong?"

I don't know what I expected to happen but was turned on and I just blurted out, "I found what you wrote."

Her eyebrows furrowed as she asked, "What do you mean?"

"I found what you wrote about you and me; it must have come out of the trash and I saw it on the street."

It dawned on her. "Oh my God. I tore up the book…how…did you read that whole thing?"

"No mom, there were only a few pages, and I just wanted to see what it was."

She put her hands over her face and said, "I'm so ashamed…I'm sorry Andy…I…oh God…"

I got up and went over to her. I put my hands on her shoulders and said, "No mom, you don't have to be ashamed…I liked it…I want to also…" I kissed her neck and was about to put my hand on her breasts when she yelled.

"No Andy…no…that was just…writing…I was just writing…it doesn't mean that we could ever do those things." She became agitated and stood to face me and a pleading look came over her face as her eyes met mine. "God, what have I done?"

"It's okay mom, you didn't do anything, it just got me turned on… I'm sorry I didn't mean to…"

"No honey, it's not your fault." She took a deep breath. "Let me try to explain this," she said. "It was just a fantasy that nobody was supposed to see. I was feeling so down. It just seems that all the men in my life…oh, you know…I was divorced from your father so young and then it was Paul and then it didn't work out with Steven…I don't know, I was feeling like I would never have someone to love, and that it was probably my fault."

"Well that's not true and you know it mom. If my father was any good, don't you think he might have stayed in contact with me instead of disappearing? And Paul was interested only in screwing you and every other woman he could get, including your so-called friend Claudia. And you really needed that son of a bitch Steven to push you around? It's no wonder you wanted someone who would treat you right."

I started getting hot thinking about sex with her again and I said, "You deserve it mom…I could love you like that." Her face was in her hands again and I put my arms around her and held her. She started crying and after a few moments she softened in my embrace. I kissed her forehead and put my hand on her breast.

She took a deep breath as my thumb crossed her nipple and then she took a step back and looked at me. Her eyes were filled and her cheeks were shiny with tears as she said, "We can't honey, we just can't." She went to her room and I didn't see her for the rest of the night.

The next day was Saturday so we were both off. When she finally came out of her room it was almost noon. "I guess this will be an elephant in the room with us forever if we don't talk about it," She almost hyperventilated. "So let's do it and be done. Just ask me what you want, and I'll tell you the truth, and it'll be over with."

"When did this all start for you mom?" I asked.

"It was probably somewhere inside me without me even knowing about it for a while, but the first time I actually thought about you…you know, this way, was just a few months ago, at the end of the summer." She hesitated and then seemed to straighten up as if she'd decided just to say whatever had to be said. "You had come from the beach and I was finishing the laundry. I saw your door was opened and I went to bring your things into your room. You were asleep with the sheet off you." She lowered her eyes. "You must have been dreaming or something because you were all…thick, and hard. I know I shouldn't have, but I got excited, and then my head just tripped off. ‘Wouldn't it be wonderful to have someone want me like that, a man I could trust, a man I knew wouldn't hurt me, a man who would love me and not leave me.' That's when I started writing that thing about you and me."

"Why did you throw it away, mom?"

"I realized I was getting caught up with it; I was getting too far into the fantasy. I knew I wanted someone in my life, and I was thinking about it all the time and how could there be anything between a mother and her son? I knew I had to stop and get real about my life, so I tore it up and told myself not to think about it anymore."

"Do you still think about me mom?"

She looked at me and I could see her mouth turn down and quiver when she said, "Yes."

I went and put my arms around her. She let me hold her for a long time and stayed wrapped in me. My hand held the small of her back. She was pressed into me and when I started to break away, she said, "Honey, just hold me for a few more minutes, would you?"

I said, "Sure mom." I knew that she must have felt me hardening against her. I put my hand under her top and stroked her back. I couldn't decide if I should unhook her bra. In the same instant, a desire to feel her bare breasts overwhelmed me and I quickly snapped the bra open with one hand. She stayed melted in my arms and my hand reached around as we kissed. Soft. The word ran through me. My mother's velvety, full breast, filled my hand.

She didn't resist as I undressed her. We continued to kiss until only a pair of sheer ecru panties revealed the darker thatch between her legs. I hesitated a moment and my mother pulled her panties down and stepped out of them. She stood in front of me and when I just stared, she turned her eyes down and began to squirm. She blushed; it looked like her whole body was blushing. I finally found my voice and said, "Mom, you're so lovely; you don't have to be shy, you look great."

She said, "You're a sweet liar, but thanks. I think every inch of me is tingling." I could see the effect on her nipples that were becoming erect.

I looked from top to bottom at the body that was making me hard. Every curve was right; the light and shadow accentuated her breasts and ass. I tried not to stare at her pussy, which was trimmed, but still covered by fine hair. I put my lips to her ear and whispered, "Wow."

I put my hand between my mother's legs and gently held her pussy cupped in my palm. I slowly moved my hand so that the heel of my palm contacted her clit. I whispered in her ear again. "Mom, tell me how you would write this scene."

She sort of moaned as I continued rubbing. "Oh honey…I cant."

I licked in her ear and continued to whisper, "Yes mom, say the words, I want to hear what you hear in your head."

She closed her eyes, and spoke softly, "My son is touching me and teasing me with gentle fingers that lights me up between my legs. I'm feeling very close to Andy as he does wonderful things to me with his mouth and tongue. He tells me that he loves me."

When she said that, I said, "Yes, your son loves you very much." I then began kissing her neck and went down to her breasts. I took one of the swollen nipples in my mouth and almost expected to be rewarded with nectar from the thick rubbery tip.

Mom continued her monologue. "I've never seen my nipples get so long as they do between my young son's lips. He kisses me like a lover and a rush of amorous feelings course through me; I hadn't been kissed that way for years. When I can't stand it any longer, I get on the bed and open my legs. I imagined what I look like, a mother opening herself for her young son. I don't care."

At that point my mother got on the bed and I could see her wetness as she opened herself for me.

She said, "Be inside me baby; I want you inside me."

I could hardly get my pants off because I was so stiff. I could see mom react when she saw my hard-on. It was solid and straining and it was for her. I was hard for my mother and she said, "It's beautiful baby, beautiful that you want me so much." She lifted her legs slightly and held them apart.

Her wetness felt thick on her thighs. The sight of my mom on the bed with her legs opened had me transfixed. Watching her spreading it with her fingers so I could be inside her burned a picture into my brain I knew I would take out again and again in the future.

Even though she was offering herself to me, I was still tentative as I brought my cock to the wet opening. I almost expected her to stop me, but she just closed her eyes and waited for me to be inside her. I penetrated her, opening her with my stiffness and taking what she gave willingly. My hard rod slowly filled her pussy. Nothing felt wrong about it; it only felt good.

The relief of having my cock permeating her was evidenced by the long sighing sounds we both made. She said, "Oh Andy, you're inside me…it's so good baby…isn't it honey?"

I said, "Yes mom, it's how I'm going to love you from now on." I measured my mother's depths with slow rhythmic insertions and each one seemed to pleasure her as each stroke sent heightened sensations down the length of my shaft

Mom kept repeating everything as she got carried away in a stream of sensations. "Yes, honey, yes honey, don't stop, don't stop, please don't stop, please don't stop…."

"No mom," I told her, "I'm never going to stop. This is where I belong, inside you."

I fit my complete shaft into her and when I was at her end she said, "Oh Andy, Andy…it's like my pussy was made for you."

"Yes mom," I said, "All of you was made for me…all of you." I kissed her long, and stayed on her mouth, as I felt us both rising to orgasm. As we came in other's arms, I knew it would be the first of many that we would share. And it was.

Well, that's how I would have ended it if I had written it as a fictional story. And of course, it was fiction, because it was my fantasy, and not my mother's. She never wrote anything, and up to that point I had never touched her. It was the first time I had put my feelings for my mother into words. It was my first story about my mother and me, but not my first expression of the desire to have her.

I had put those desires into drawings before. From when I was young I could draw anything. It was sort of a hyper real kind of drawing, because I wanted everything to look exactly as I saw it. I would title them "Lana" and give them to mom. She loved them. In the ones I didn't show her, I drew her nude, as I imagined her. Anyone looking at it would know whom it represented. When I got older, I started putting myself in the picture – and in her.

The story had got me as turned on as the drawings ever did because I actually thought it sounded plausible. I wished I had found my mother's writings about wanting sex with me but all I had found was desire, day after day. What happened after writing that fantasy was a story in itself.

I decided to act. I thought that if I could just have her, I would be happy. I concocted enough scenarios, but they were all the usual nonsense that you read about; I discarded them. I thought long term, with a plan that would nonetheless have short-term satisfactions. A close hug would carry me for a day; a kiss would be enough for the night. Nothing changed, but everything changed.

We had always been close and affectionate; the only thing different in the beginning was how I thought about everything. So the same hug I would have given in years past now focused on the feel of her tits in my chest. A small kiss on the lips now was the kiss of one lover to another, in my mind. I did this for weeks, holding her a little closer, kissing her a little longer.