Mother's Fetish

I was standing at the center-island counter in my mother's large kitchen and spreading the sweet, white cream on the cinnamon buns I had just retrieved from the oven. Halfway finished, I stopped to take a long drink of milk out of the glass at my side. I was finishing the frosting on the buns when I spied my mother, Janet, entering the kitchen.

Her curly hair was visibly mussed and she wore only a light weight, knee length sleeping gown. Easily seen through, it was clear my mother was bra-less and panty-less. It was not an unusual thing to see, but mom was mom and I was so used to seeing such morning attire and more, it was a nonevent. I knew her body well, knew she was off limits...taboo... still, I studied her shuffling to the coffee pot as I took a bite of one of the warmth buns. I received no hello or acknowledgment of any kind.

My father-in-law, James, was close on my mother's heels. He was dressed in his usual business suit attire with a leather satchel in his hand. Stopping close in behind her, he gripped her left buttock, squeezing it as he kissed her on the neck. "Thank you for this morning! I'll see you in a few days." He told her in less than a whisper, before turning to me. "Good morning, Harry, take care of your mother while I'm gone. I hope you're enjoying your summer. You get through this year and I'll talk to my firm about an apprenticeship." With those words, he was out the kitchen door, in his Caddy, and headed for the airport.

"I thought the son-of-a-bitch would never get off of me!" Mom exclaimed, before taking a long drink of her hot coffee. "Tell me again why I married the dumb ass?"

"Money and security." I offered.

"Oh yea! That! And to get you into a good law firm. After you're there for a couple of years, I'll divorce his limp cock ass. You can thank me anytime you want to."

"Thank you mom." I said with a sarcastic tone.

*

Statue wise, I could easily compare mom to Honey Wilder, my favorite porn star. Like Wilder, mom was 5'7" tall, 36D-23-33, brown eyed, lank strawberry blonde hair rather than Wilder's black hair, her face touted freckles, and she weighted 125lbs. Mom's voice was much lower and a bit raspy, but it could still be called sexy. I even knew, read on, that mom had the lavish thick bush Wilder touted in her movies.

I was turned on to Honey Wilder when I was 19 and followed her movies. Arriving home after viewing her for the first time in "Taboo IV", I found mom and James leaving for dinner. I shook my head seeing my mother in profile from about 15 feet. Except for face-on, mom could be a body-double for the porn star. It was not a mystery how, at 44, she had managed to corral James, 56, who was a very successful criminal lawyer, but balding and beer bellied...and worthless in the sack.

In short order, I began wondering how mom actually stacked up to Honey Wilder in her birthday suit. I did some studying on spy gadgets, looked around mom's bedroom when no one was home, and decided on a plan. I purchased and placed a small wireless camera between two pictures that had not moved in years, hid the monitor in my closet and had a perfect view of the bed and a good portion of the bedroom. The camera excelled in the darkness too. I discovered soon enough, spying on mom dressing and undressing, that my nude mom was exceptional and in ever way equal to the porn star, maybe more so in the bush department.

I occasionally spied on mom and James fucking with the light on or early in the morning, but mostly at night which was a bit disappointing, even with the excellent light gathering capabilities of the camera. A full moon offered much better viewing. I also discovered that mom masturbated quite a bit when James was not home. More often than not, having to be very careful about making any noise, I masturbated right along with her. Honey Wilder's incest roles began to shine a new light on the forbidden fruit that was mom.

*

After eating three cinnamon buns, finishing my glass of milk, I returned to my bedroom. I did not have a regular girlfriend at present so I opened my bedside table drawer and grabbed the latest copy of Penthouse. Removing my T-shirt and cotton shorts, I reclined on my bed, my head on two pillows, thumbing through the magazine and playing with my rather limp cock. You wouldn't think that a 23-year-old would be having a problem jerking off to a young, pretty naked lass in a magazine. But I was having a problem; the only thing on my mind at present was mom's statement "I thought the son-of-a-bitch would never get off of me!"

This morning, I had not even thought about spying on them, though I knew they were probably fucking. Maybe that's what problem was... watching them fuck. In the beginning, it had been exciting and stimulating watching them. But I tired of watching their, actually his, boring intercourse. He never did anything different. He got on top, fucked mom quickly, often, not getting her off. I'll admit it! I watched her get herself off numerous times while James showered. No big deal...but I felt for her. She needed an orgasm! Her remark that morning summed up our mother/son relationship. It was taken for granted that adults have sex. She did not mind telling me she was unhappy with her own sex life. And right this second I was unhappy with mine.

I knew their habits and knew that James required a little good-bye pussy before he left on trips. I remembered him thanking mom earlier. I knew James could be a "bunny quick" and selfish lover, leaving mom wanting. I didn't know why I was giving it a second thought now, as mom had probably fingered herself. She had probably showered and, but wait, maybe not dressed. Maybe seeing a live naked woman might help my present problem.

I looked over my head towards the closet and thought a long moment.

I rolled off the bed, entered the closet and retrieved the monitor from its hiding place. I instantly reeled in shock at what I saw my mother doing. She was using, or attempting to use, the crown of the wooden bed-post. I thought, 'my lord, had she never thought of a dildo!' I had a pretty clear view of her pussy, or, better put, what she was attempting to to do with her pussy. I was instantly toying with my much firmer cock.

I can best describe the bed-post crown like the flame of a candle...but much larger. Perhaps 4-1/2" to 5" tall, the top not pointed but rounded, the size of a large marble. The bottom width the size of the middle of a good sized banana. Perhaps, half of a good sized, but straight, banana would be a better example.

Mom had positioned her naked body, her ass, precariously on top of three pillows, her right leg dangling over the rounded rail of the bed, the left leg bent, her foot flat on the bed. Her right hand gripped the rail and her left hand gripped the bed post, her forefinger in the decorative, router-ed indentation. Her strained left-handed grip was witness to her precarious position.

She was not taking the crown inside of her, but pressing the length of it against her pussy lips, spreading them wide, her ass seductively moving, scrubbing the interior of her pussy with vigor. I suspected the rounded top was teasing her clit. Her pussy appeared a creamy pink. I could not see her face clearly, as her head was partially lowered, but listening very closely. I could hear her soft moans.

As one might imagine, it was difficult not to jerk my cock. It had to be one of the oddest and sexiest things I had ever seen. I was stroking my cock hard, being careful not to bump the wall.

For the first time, I saw my mother as a sexual object to desire, one, I theorized, that could be had if I played my cards right. My plan was to catch her in the act, this act, then, hope she would let me participate, leading to intercourse, or, maybe I could blackmail her into spreading her legs for me.

Mom aspirated visibly and loud enough to indicate her reaching orgasm. I followed, shooting off strongly, having to stifle, what would have been, a loud grunt and moan, my eyes closed. I regained my sight to see mom flop backward off the pillows.

I looked to see the damage I had done with my semen. It would require a bit of cleanup which only took a few minutes. Checking mom's bedroom again through the peephole, I saw she was sleeping where she had flopped, having rolled to her left, drawing her knees up in a fetal position. I studied her bare butt for a few long minutes. My desire to lay with her showed in my renewed erection. I toyed with it.

I then showered, dressed and headed out to meet some friends at the local Village Inn ice-cream parlor. I was still looking for that steady girlfriend for the summer.

Weeks pasted. I kept a watchful eye on my mother's bedroom, but other than James fucking her, I spied mom doing nothing more than fingering herself to orgasm, as the bastard showered. Still, at such times, she never covered herself, I studied her body closely, comparing her to my favorite porn star, Honey Wilder, and, viewing mom in a new incestuous light, I usually jerked off.

When watching her masturbate when James was out of town, I found it curious that she would spend long minutes fingering herself with one, two and sometimes three fingers. She definitely liked having something inside her, making me ponder why she did not return to using the bed post, my plan A. I wondered if I should move on to a plan B, which I had not formulated yet!

I arrived home one day in a hurry. I fully expected to find mom home as I needed money to buy some CDs and a movie for a new girl I had just met and made a date. I did not see mom's car in the driveway and was immediately despondent. But, I knew she had a jar in her room where she kept some extra cash. She only insisted I tell her when and how much I took.

I hurried to her room, turned the knob, and entered. I stopped dead in my tracks. Mom, her front to me, was riding the bedpost, her left leg straight and locked, her right leg lifted, foot propped on the second foot rail of the bed. Looking down and moaning, the noise of the door opening apparently had not attracted her attention and I stood there for long moments watching her ride the bedpost, half the crown stroking in and out of her pussy. I squeezed my hardening crotch.

"What the hell are you doing in my room, Harry?" She yelled, finally aware of my presence and seeing me standing there staring. "How the hell long have you been standing there watching me, you fuckin pervert! Get the hell out of of my bedroom!"

What I found telling was that mom made no effort to extricate herself from the bedpost. She had onlt frozen in place, half of the flame shaped crown of the bedpost inside her as she browbeat me to get out.

"I don't want to, mom." I replied sheepishly. "I want to help."

"What the hell do you mean you want to help?" She yelled in a lower volume, but clearly taken aback by what I had said. "Do you know what you are suggesting...do you!"

"I'll show you." I said, moving to her.

I knew my next action would be extremely important and telling. I placed my right hand on her ass, my hand straddling her crack. I lifted just enough to let her know I had the strength to control her weight, giving her a sense of safety.

I studied her ample breasts as I waited a few moments to see if she was going to rebuff me. She didn't. A moment later I placed my left forefinger and middle finger softly to her pussy and began rotating them slowly. Any resistance she might have felt dissolved. It seemed she dispelled my presence as her ass began to move slightly, lifting and dropping onto the crown.

"Do you want more of it?" I whispered in her ear. "Don't be afraid. I've got you."

I saw her "test the waters" once, twice, then, the whole crown disappeared into her. I heard her mournful moan of desire.

"He never fucks me properly, Harry!" She moaned. "I have to take care of my own self. Don't think bad of me!"

"Never!" I assured her. "We will do this together. You just relax and enjoy yourself. I will ease up if you don't want to come right away. Just guide me!"

She took what I had said to heart. She directed me to speed up, to slow down, to stop or to removed by hand completely and toy with her nearest tit, thumbing the firm nipple. I did nothing with my left hand unless directed to do so. But,"OH FUCK", she moaned lustfully when I extended the middle finger of my right hand, placing it to her Rosebud. I fingered it softly, eliciting soft purrs of pleasure from her.

She soon directed my left hand, my fingers, back to her pussy, her clit. Together, we were lifting and dropping her in a slow, steady rhythm on and off the wet, glistening wooden crown, as my fingers scrubbed her clit. She assured me she was ready to come and begged me not to stop. Her loud, growling orgasm related to me the strength of the orgasm gripping her. It left her trembling and exhausted. I eased her off of the crown, turned her to sit on the edge of the bed.

"You cannot fuck me, Harry. I will not allow it!" She said forcefully, as I gently pushed her to her back and placed her feet on the edge of the bed. She scooted back a bit in retreat.

"Okay! Okay." I acknowledged. "I just want to jerk off! That's not asking too much is it?"

"No. Of course not." She returned in a subdued tone. "It might even be fun to watch."

With permission granted, I stood between her legs and began stroking my cock with my right hand, resting my left hand on her knee, in a very determined manner. I studied my mother's body and pussy as I stroked.

"Hell! Come down here Harry! Let me do that for you!" Mom directed, after a few minutes of watching me. Her feet remained planted flat on the bed.

As I bent over her, subtly bringing us chest-to-chest, she grabbed hold of my cock with her right hand, thumb pointed towards my balls, and began to tug on it as my ass humped.

"You want a nipple?" She offered, her left hand on my back.

"I'm perfect." I answered, my face nestled in her neck.

"Then just relax and take your time. You feel so tense. I don't want you to come to quickly. You've got a nice hard cock. I love holding it. You like that?"

I muttered my agreement of her squeezing the head. I slowed my humping action, enjoying the feel of my mother's hand gripping my cock. My mind alternated between the vision of Honey Wilder's "son" fucking her and the real feel and knowledge of my mother tugging on my cock. I moved in a slow methodical rhythm for long minutes until I groaned with orgasm. My mother's lustful words conveyed her approval.

I was afraid to move. No longer being urged along by lust, it was time to face the music and accept our indiscretion... to look each other in the eye. I wasn't in a hurry so I kept my face buried in my mother's neck until I heard her gentle whisper, "let me up".

I pushed myself up, rotating backwards, taking in her ample breast and their hard nipples. I saw my cum puddling in her belly button, a few thick milky white buttons here and there and a spidery string still clinging to the tip of my cock until it broke, my gaze stopped on her bush a long moment. I was still avoiding having to look her in the eye. My gaze rested on her pussy. My perception caught movement in her legs and I placed my hands on her feet, not hard, but enough pressure to let her know I did not want her to move. I moved my left hand, palm forward, placing it against her treasure, applying a little pressure. I heard her low moan and took it to mean she was still sexually minded.

"Come down a bit." I directed, as I dropped to my knees on the carpeted floor. I saw her ass wobble to the edge of the bed. I was up close and personal to my mother's treasure and I put my lips to it, kissing it lightly, before probing it with my tongue.

"That's wonderful, Harry." She whispered. "It's been so long since I have had a man's head In my legs. Your tongue is wonderful. "Oh fuck, Harry!"

Her surprised exclamation was caused by my tongue being pushed into her hole, after I pushed her knees back. I sought her depths as her ass responded by pushing against my face. Her ass humped my face as I tongue fucked her for a long minute. I returned to her clit and concentrated my effort there. With a feather like touch of the tip of my tongue, I kept mom suspended for long minutes. As she climaxed, her animal moans echoed in my ears, telling me of her strong orgasm. My erection was strong again and I wanted desperately to stick by cock into my mother's pussy, but knew it was not the time. It was, however, time to face her, but I felt more confident.

"Harry, Harry, Harry, what have we done?" She sighed loudly as she came to a sitting position, holding my head between her hands. Don't be afraid to look at me. You're not in trouble!" She chuckled. "But we have been so naughty! Can you imagine what James would do if he knew what we had just done."

"No one has to know, mom" I assured her. "There's no way James, or anyone, can find out."

"I know that! But we know. We just had incestuous sex. Doesn't that bother you at all?" She questioned.

"I can't say that it does, mom." I returned. "I just enjoyed sex, or something close to sex, with a beautiful woman who is sexually abused."

"What? Because you didn't stick your cock in me you don't call this sex?" She challenged, then added. "And please! I'm setting here naked as a jaybird. Please, don't call me mom. Janet will be fine."

I remained silent and the silence was deafening.

"Come watch my back." She finally said, gently displacing me as she stood..

I grabbed at her, clutching her ass and drew her near to me. Her hands returned to my head as I kissed her belly smearing my cum on my forehead. "You're making a mess, Harry!" She chuckled again.

In the shower, I had the pleasure of scrubbing my mother's body from shoulders to toes, making her giggle and swat at me when I showed intent to wash her more feminine areas. She returned the favor by scrubbing my back. She left me there in the glass walled shower. I watched her towel herself dry before leaving the bathroom.

I arrived at the kitchen to find lunch almost ready. I sat down at the table and was soon served a burger with all the fixin's and a glass of Coked. I was running late to reconnect with my new female friend, but mom had gone to the trouble and I was going to eat.

I studied mom as she moved around the kitchen in a thigh-length, terrycloth robe. When she came close to refill my Coke, I quickly reached up under the terrycloth to palm her ass, finding it still bare.

"Enough!" She reprimanded sharply, turning to remove by hand off her ass, smacking it as it retreated. We might be alone but you will not act like a sex crazed Loon. You will slip up and do something stupid with James around. You understand me? Answer me damn it!"

"All right! I apologize. You're right. It was very disrespectful. It will not happen again,... Janet."

"Don't be a smart-ass, Harry!" She rebuked, but with a smile.

Again, I studied her as she moved around the kitchen. I remembered the money I need and asked for it. Finishing my lunch, I returned to my room to get my wallet, returning to the kitchen. Finding mom at the sink, the money on the counter, I went to her right side and kissed her on the cheek. "I might be late tonight, mom. I have a date with a new girl I met."

"Harry?" She said softly, stopping me in my tracks. "If you get lucky, remember, wear a condom. James will not be back until late tomorrow night. If you don't get lucky, come to my bedroom when you get home. Wake me up if necessary."

"I will either way." I returned.

Her remarks assured me that what had not been mentioned as yet... continuation of a sexual relationship... was going to continue.

I arrived home a little after midnight. I hadn't even tried to get lucky. I went to my room and undressed and took the time to shower. I fretted over wearing briefs but decided to go to mom's room naked. Quietly opening her door, I made my way across the almost pitch black bedroom. I knew my mother slept on the right side, so I stumbled my way to the left, feeling for the covers and lifting them. I crawled in beside my sleeping mother, resting on her back, running my hand over her body, I found her to be nude.