Secrecy is Important

My eyes fluttered open slowly and I was immediately aware of "him" on top of me, screwing me. I was on my back, my legs straight out and spread a bit. It took me a second or two to realize "the him" was not my husband, Bruce, but, Clarence, my 26-year-old son, getting a piece of my ass. I could tell he had not been at it long as his rhythm was uncertain, still moderately benign, and his breathing could barely be heard or felt against my neck.

I was not overly concerned as it was not his first time mounting me, nor was it likely to be the last. I had taught him to be a courteous lover as he supported his weight on his elbows and toes, as he straddled my thighs, his T-shirted chest weighting lightly on my bare tits, in his awkward and precarious position. As I was not actively positioned or engaged, my stretched out posture, beefy thighs and shallow spread did not allow him to get his insignificant length, a mere 4 1/2 inches, properly inside of me. Still, his rock-hard firmness kept the domed head inserted inside my pussy, not popping out as his action was more of a recurring stab than a stroke..

My memory quickly returned and I realized I must have passed out coming out of the shower. One would think one would learn from past experiences and not shower when you're intoxicated and popping pills. My head felt like it was going to explode but I had to push it aside. My simple-minded son was always my first concern. I let him continue without letting him know I was conscious. I wasn't sure I was even going to let him know.

He had been out on the deck of our cabin fixing a log cable that had come loose during last night's storm. His dad had gone on a hunting trip two days earlier and Clarence had been grabbing my ass and fondling my tits all morning, which I allowed and enjoyed when we were alone. With some difficulty, I managed to keep him focused on the job at hand, but I knew I was going to have to service him before or after lunch, and a little liquor always smoothed out my inhibitions, not that I really needed to be inebriated to screw the boy. I had apparently consumed more than I thought or my pills had not mixed well with the alcohol.

I remembered sitting on the deck watching him and consuming my fourth drink, and thinking that I needed my morning shower before giving Clarence what he desired. His father had screwed me in the wee hours of the morning before leaving, two day ago, and I was more than ready to play. Clarence had apparently found me on the floor passed out. It must of been some effort for him to get me to, and on, the bed. But the boy had ample muscles and finding me nude on the floor gave him incentive. Still, I would need to shame him for taking liberty with his unconscious mama.

At 53, I am not the slim woman or the looker I use to be a mere 10 years ago. At 5'7", 197lbs, my weight is concentrated in my lard ass, sagging breasts, a bit of a belly, and ample thighs that, if you listen carefully in the quiet, steep mountains of British Columbia, create a scratching sound when I walk in jeans.

On the plus side, the abundant red hair between my legs, matching the shoulder length hair of my top knot, sets me apart from the other wives around our ultra-deep lake community. Though maybe not as positive, due to my proclivity last summer to spread my legs for a hand full of the nearby married men, it is rumored my thick red pubic hair is still a favorite topic when they gather and my husband is not among them.. My half-witted son, who sees it more than his father, finds the color mesmerizing .

No one, fortunately, knows or suspects our incestuous relationship. At the moment, I am now tense and concerned. Our cabin has abundant windows with only the ones facing the lake touting curtains. Clarence had, out of necessity, no doubt, deposited me on my and his father's bed on the main cabin floor, his bed being in the small loft. Clarence is too simple-minded to care about being caught, though he does seem to understand that what we do sexually is our secret and would make his dad really angry. The boy manages to keep his hands to himself when his dad or others are around.

I'm laying here worrying about the abundance of unshielded windows, knowing how easy and disastrous it would be for a neighbor to stop by and see him screwing me, if they happen to look through a side window, or even the window of the front door which has the curtains pulled open. On our lake, the nearest cabin is ½ mile distance. I am hoping everyone is home eating their lunch as Clarence's poking is beginning to have an arousing effect. My body is beginning to feel warm and my pussy is beginning to yearn for a little more of what little is at hand. Let me be honest here! Clarence's cock leaves a bit to be desired when it comes to depth of penetration, but his amply packed, smoked sausage thickness makes up for his length quite nicely.

"Clarence, sugar." I say, finally throwing caution to the wind, placing my hands on his hips. "Let mama get her legs up."

We maneuver together as he knee-steps his legs between mine as I spread and lift my legs up. His cock popped free and I reach to acquire it, placing it back to my fuck-hole. I hear him moan lightly and his body quivers at my handling of him. I squirm my ass as he enters me, pushing his cock as deep as possible into me. As I said, this is not our first time and he knows what's required of him. We are now properly coupled.

"Don't be in a hurry, baby." I direct. "Give Mama a chance to catch up."

In less than a minute, I am fully engaged, thrusting my ass up, matching his, now, stroking rhythm. His thick cock is scrubbing the inner-walls of my vagina making it come live. The windows are forgotten.

****

History;

Clarence was just over 20. My son was "Special" and having a bad day, whimpering and sighing with despair for no reason I could get him to admit to. At our home in Port Hardy, his father at work, I sat on the couch with him and cuddled him closely. He nuzzled my clothed right breast. As I often did around the house, I wore no bra. In desperation, I was mentally searching, I unbuttoned the first three buttons of my house dress and exposed my right breast. Cupping it, I offered him my deflated, mostly flat, nipple. Accepting it, he suckled at my nipple and I could see the calmness settle in. I became aware of both nipples firming up, through I was not aroused in any way. It seemed so innocent and casual at the time that months following I did not hesitate to release my breast when we were alone and it seemed necessary.

Then one evening he was distraught and could not sleep, so, alone at home as we were, I climbed into bed with him and offered him a nipple. Still uncovered, he wearing boxer shorts, I saw he had erection. I had seen him naked many times, even erect occasionally. Never gave it a thought! But this time, after a few minutes of his suckling, me staring at the bulge in his pants, I succumbed to the desire to touch, then, squeeze it. Minutes later, I desired to bring it forth - to see it - to touch it more. Toying with his bare manhood, appraising it for the first for what it was - its purpose - I was impressed not so much by its length but by its thickness. Knowing it was wrong to handle him, I went to put it back. He pleaded with me to continue, then, to stroke it.

Trying to explain to him the incestuous connotations of doing that would have been like talking to a brick wall and my aroused being offered me no leniency. I continued to fondle with his cock until I was soon stroking it with intent to give him an orgasm. As I masturbated him, he sucked hungrily on my firm nipple. When he ejaculated, he released my nipple and groaned loudly with an open mouth. I was again impressed, no, amazed, at the amount of cum that shot forth.

That evening, after cleaning him up, covering him, kissing him good night, I retired to my own room. A sleepless night awaited me! I fingered my pussy numerous times, with short naps in between. With every one of my orgasms, the phrase, "fill my pussy", took on a whole new meaning as my mind revisited the large amount of cum that had erupted from the head of my son's cock, flowing onto my hand in a warm cascade.

Afterward, I often found his boxer's front stiff with dry semen. Apparently, I had started something and knowing his orgasm to be substantial and uncomfortable to wear through the night, I lovingly suggested he use a sock. Neither of us even blushed or laughed nervously. He asked if I minded him doing it without me and I assured him I did not and it was quite natural.

Needless to say, my indiscretion set a precedent. Clarence started expecting me to masturbate him whenever I offered him a nipple to calm him down. I had to threaten to withhold whatever I felt would work at the time, which generally turned out to be the very thing he was being so unruly and obstinate to get me to do.

With the passing of a few months, I became as familiar with my son's cock and balls as he was with my nipples. When possible, which was often, we showered, and occasionally took a bath, together. From the first time we showered together, I knew he was fascinated with the red hair between my legs and why we were "different" - down there. I always changed the subject. It was in my large master bathtub that Clarence first asked to look and, then, touch me - my pussy. I reclined back and spread my thighs to let him have a one minute look, but to touching, the first time I said "no".

When he asked again, I had not been surprised. I shut the water off leaving only a couple of inches of hot water covering our butts, and, leaning back, spreading my legs, I gave him a tour of my twat.

"It might surprise you to know that as a newborn baby, you, came out of this hole. Nature has a way of making it stretch bigger." I said, pulling my labia wide. "And, you know, that creamy white semen that comes out of you when you ejaculate? Well, when your dad is stiff he puts his thing into this hole and when he comes - ejaculates - it goes into my belly and sometimes makes a baby. Of course! You cannot put your cock inside me because I'm your mama. I can't become pregnant but it still would not be right. What I do - touching you and jerking you off - is not what mamas and sons normally do. It would make your dad real angry and he'd want you sent off. That is why we must keep things secret!"

"But you're going to let me touch it this time?" He asked with anticipation.

"You see this little bitty nipple right here?" I asked, pointing to my clit. "This is what you touch to make Mama feel really good like when I touch you. But you go ahead and touch anywhere you want to. Just be soft and gentle!"

My eyes involuntarily closed with the feeling of his fingers roaming over my vagina. "No, no. You can't do that!" I protested, then realized my fingers still held my hole open. "Just this once, if you want to put your finger inside me, flip your hand over and extend only your middle finger. Easy! It's warm inside there, isn't it?"

"Here, honey! Let's try something." I offered, feeling a bit bold. "Come and knell between my legs. We can pretend that you have your stiff cock up inside of me. That's it, just like we are hugging. I'm going to wrap my fingers around your cock and I'll show you how to move like we are screwing - or fucking - or making love. The words mean the same. Think of what we are doing as playing, "daddy and mama".

A bit more maneuvering and direction and I was soon holding my hand still and in position while Clarence fucked the hole I made with my hand and fingers. In short order, he moaned in orgasm, shooting his semen onto my belly and furred mound. I stared at the inch long length atop my pubic hair.

"You did good, Clarence!" I praised. "You now know how to make love to a woman."

"I like to fuck, Mama!"

That evening, I taught him to palm my pussy, extend his middle finger - while palming - and finger fuck me, and finger my clit to orgasm. So strong was my orgasm, he thought he had hurt me.

It became his preferred way of getting a hand-job whether in the bathtub or bed. It took a bit of getting use to in bed, positing his body to make it as real as possible, having a stiff cock so close to my fuck-hole, my knees lifted, legs wide, putting it to me would have been so easy and was often so tempting when I had not come first. It became my habit to come first because of the temptation! I did enjoy having a warm body between my legs! The real temptation, really, only minor, was when I sometimes controlled the head of his cock to get a second orgasm, scrubbing my clit.

The bathtub thing had me feeling quite high. As we washed each others bodies, me, washing his cock, him, scrubbing my pussy, causing me much of pleasure, I set my sights on teaching him a bit more. As we toweled each other dry, I offered him the option of putting on his underwear or remaining naked, while joining me in my bed to watch TV. He opted as I figured he would. He asked if I too would remain naked. He was all smiles when I nodded yes.

He was 21 and a few months. Just as I figured his cock returned to firmness as we lay side-by-side on top of the bedding, me, pretending to watch TV, him, making no secret of studying my naked form, my legs out-stretched and together. Without any words, or glancing his way, I reached, real casual like, to take hold of his erection, toying, then, stroking it lightly.

"Clarence? Would you like to learn how to kiss a girl?"

"Sure!"

I beckoned him to me, telling him to straddle my thighs, and spent a few minutes instructing him in the art of kissing. I reminded him that all this too was our little secret, assuring him that he could kiss me whenever we were alone or playing "daddy and Mama". We now had a phrase for sex. We kissed for long minutes - long and short kisses - no tongue.

"Would you like to see where you came from again?" I quizzed.

He did not answer but moved quickly to the bottom of the bed. I spread my legs, bringing my knees up, placing my feet flat on the bed. He moved in for a bird-eyed view.

"A girl likes her ass and thighs touched." I instructed. "Squeeze my buttocks and use the back of your hands to stroke the inside of my thighs."

Between squeezing and stroking he explored my pussy once more with his fingers. He pulled lightly at my pubic hair and lightly compressed my puffy mound with his forefinger.

"Put your nose inside by bush. It's smells sweet and soapy, doesn't it? My pussy is very clean, Clarence. Run your nose between the lips of my pussy. I'm not going to hold it open for you this time. Use you tongue to spread the lips. Oh yes! Mama likes that a lot, sugar. Now, try to find that little nipple - my clit - with the tip of your tongue. AHH! Right there!"

His first time at oral was clumsy and maddening. He roamed all over the place and I had to order him back to my clit countless times. I was close to my third orgasm numerous times only to have his tongue wander off. Gripping my thighs, I pulled them back and studied the action between my legs.

"Clarence! Dammit! Concentrate your tongue on that little nipple. Yes! Now, concentrate and don't move!" I pleaded. "What the hell! Son of a Bitch!. YES!"

On his own initiative, he had stuck his tongue into my pussy - my hole! Had putting a finger inside of me given him the notion? Who the hell cared! He was tongue fucking me, his face shoving repeatedly into my crotch. Natural instinct was a wonderful thing! My ass responded as I shoved back.

"My clit, baby!" I commanded. "Go back to my clit!"

His tongue returned to my clit and it took but mere seconds for the orgasm to grip me violently. My body quaked and I groaned loudly.

I had never felt love for my son like I felt at that moment and I wanted to show him that love using the environment we found ourselves.

"Baby, come up and kiss me!" I commanded.

His mouth was wet and clammy, his chin drenched with my lubricant. I felt nothing but lust as we kissed passionately.

"Clarence, let me turnover."

I maneuvered to my belly as I directed him to straddled me once more. I pulled the crack of my ass open and told him to lay his cock in the crack between my ass cheeks.

"Do what feels good, sugar." I directed lovingly. "Don't lift your ass too high are you will pull it loose."

My ass cheeks were containing his cock quite nicely and he was soon humping my ass quite naturally, soon breathing strongly on my neck.

"Take hold of my tits." I directed, lifting my torso up slightly. "Put weight on me. It's okay."

"You were so wet down there." He asked, making me smile at his untimely query. "Should I swallow it?"

"It won't hurt you but it is probably best just to purge - push - it out of your mouth." I explained. "Always rinse your mouth and wash your face good and if the bed gets wet I'll just wash it - to keep our secret, secret."

I lay there pondering his innocence, feeling a bit uneasy, but, feeling his warm breath on my neck, the heat and compressing weight of his body, knowing that in a few minutes he would again shoot his semen into the upper crack of my ass, soothed my guilt. After he did, he nuzzled my neck, telling me how much he loved to play "daddy and Mama" and assured me he knew it was our little secret.

Now, the lake cabin was only a short flight from Port Hardy, Victoria Island to Powell River, on the mainland, then, an hour boat ride on Powell Lake to the cabin. We usually visited the cabin every quarter of the year for a week, with an extended stay during the summer.

Cabin stays were fraught with danger of Clarence and I being caught playing "daddy and Mama", not so much by a visiting neighbor during the off months, but quick changing weather could cause Bruce to returned to the cabin unexpectedly from a nearby hunting or 4-wheel excursion. Sex at the cabin required that Clarence and I remain as fully clothed as possible and to get the business at hand over as quickly as possible. Clarence wanted us, meaning me, to be naked. Being panty-less under a dress never pleased him and his whining to be between my thighs as I held him drove me to distraction, mostly because that's where I desired him too. We "between the ass cheeks" screwed occasionally, but because of time restraint I usually stood against the sink counter etc., bending over a bit.. A must, was for him to eat me first. The down side to oral was keeping him focused when the clock was the enemy.

Through years of conditioning, Clarence had been taught to listen to music with earphones on and not to drink too much water or soda before bedtime, leaving Bruce and I to have sex unheard and unseen. Even so, we had positioned our bed where 90% of it was covered by the loft, leaving 10% pass the loft railing and a short distance from the ladder to its left, if you are laying on your back looking up. As the rare occasion happened, Clarence could not hold his water, and we were in the midst of screwing, I would glance Clarence well before he became aware of us, allowing us to separate and pretend to be sleeping. Our latest cabin stay, and our now intimate relationship, proved that there were changes afoot..

I had never felt comfortable screwing at the cabin, but I never voiced it. I often just didn't participate, letting Bruce get his piece of ass. In the wee hours one morning, the full moon high, I was laying on my back, Bruce between my thighs having a go it me, my knees pulled back for good penetration, but not ratcheting as they would have been, had I been engaged. The cabin being hot, the blankets had been tossed aside and my knee length flannel nightgown was up above of my breasts, Bruce's cock sticking through the pee hole of his long underwear.

Ever alert, I turned my head towards the ladder and was instantly concerned to see Clarence's head on the far side of the ladder, him perched precariously over the railing. I waved him away and was perturbed as he did not make an effort to move. He watched us screw until his father groaned with orgasm. He then disappeared and I was surprised at how quietly he had returned to bed. When his father left after breakfast the next morning to see a neighbor across the lake, my son had questions.