The First Noel

Noah parted his lips to make way for his mother's searching tongue. It was warm and sweet, nothing like he ever tasted before. Without breaking away from the kiss, Noah climbed onto the bed and got under the covers. The chill he had felt was instantly gone as his mother's warmth under the covers enveloped him. He put his right arm around his mother's waist and let his hand wander across her back over the thin nightgown. He could tell she wasn't wearing a bra. The whole expanse of her back felt like his was on some foreign soil, an uncharted territory, and somehow it felt like he was intruding upon it. But he didn't stop; he moved his hand up and down until it was his, until he owned the whole of it.

His mother too put her hand around his shirtless waist. But she didn't need to mark her territory. She already knew her son was hers. Noah was a little surprised as her mother boldly put her hand on his ass without any seductive caressing of his bare back. And without any indication of what she was going to do, she suddenly, but not too forcibly, pulled her son towards her, closing the few inches of gap between them. Now it was airtight.

Noah gasped a little as his dick which was just starting to harden inside his boxers came in contact with his mother's crotch. In a few seconds, he reached full erection. It was poking hard at her mother's panties.

Angela lifted her left leg and put it on top of her son's right thigh, and she slowly humped him, her son's hard dick pressing against her. She then took his right hand and pulled it down to her butt, indicating that she wanted him to puller her to him. Her son did just that, pulling her hard in rhythm to her humping.

After a few more motions, Noah's mother backed in into the center of the bed, pulling him with her. She then pushed him on his back, and in one quick motion, climbed on top of her son and straddled him. The covers slipped down from her back and it lay in a heap on top of Noah's thighs right behind his mother's gyrating hips.

Noah took his hands away from his mother's butt and slipped them inside her nightgown. He caressed her waist and stomach, feeling the cesarean scar on her lower abdomen with great interest and her naval with great delight. Then slowly and smoothly, he moved his hands upward. His nerves had gone. He was feeling right at home now. His memories had come back to him. His experiences with other girls, his suave and grace when with a woman, played out as he gently ran his hands on his mother's body. He counted the ribs on his mother, although they were not easy to make out. He moved his hands upwards still, until they ran up the mount on his mother's chest. He cupped his mother's breasts, holding one in each hand. They were never prominent, and he never really imagined that they could ever be big, but his hands were full. They were much larger than he anticipated. He squeezed them as gently as he could at first. As his mother moved her hips to and fro, grinding him more forcefully, he fondled her breasts more passionately and he tried to move his body in rhythm to his mother's movements.

In one quick motion, Angela pulled her nightgown off over her head, giving her son more room to play with her breasts. She couldn't control her breathing anymore and she groaned and huffed as she increased her rhythm. The air around them smelled musky and sweet. There were no more cold drafts of air blowing. Everything was still except for their movement. The temperature in the room rose steadily.

Noah put his hands through below his mother's armpits and held her shoulders from the back, and then he pulled her down. They kissed passionately, tongues fighting inside their mouths, competing whom should enter whose. Then his mother moved down, her hands trailing on his chest, and then down to his stomach before they grabbed the elastic band of his boxers' waist. He lifted his butt the same time his mother yanked it down. She threw the covers back and then threw away his boxers to the side of the bed. He was fully naked in front of his mother. Their eyes had properly adjusted to the dim light and they could now see clearly.

Before Angela made a move, she examined the beautiful specimen that was lying right in front of her. Her son had never been an athlete. He did not have ripped abs or large bulging pectoral muscles, but neither were they covered in body fat. Her son's body was not in want of body building. It was perfect in her eyes. Her eyes followed the thin trail of hair that started from below his naval and moved downward with increased density until it finally reached the thickness of his pubic hair. She could tell that he hadn't trimmed it in a while. She fixed her gaze on her son's hard and throbbing dick that pointed towards his chin. It was almost as big as his father's and it still had room to grow. His balls sagged downwards between the bases of his thighs that were coarse with thin, sexy hair.

Noah's breathing was heavy and erratic as his mother's warm hands caressed his thighs, inching closer to his dick and then moving away again, teasing him. He closed his eyes. And then he felt his mother's hands on his balls, fondling them, playing with them. Her right hand then gently grabbed his leaking dick and slowly started to stroke, as if it might hurt him if it was any harder. Involuntarily, he moved his waist up and down, as slowly as he could to add more substance to his mother's slow stroking.

He felt hot breath on his dick. His heart rate increased. He was starting to perspire. He put his hands on his sides and grabbed the sheets, clenching his fists. Then he let out a loud audible sigh as his dick was enveloped by the warm moist mouth of his mother. He felt the mouth move up and down, slowly at first, and then gaining momentum. What she did with her tongue while his dick was inside her mouth - no girl he'd ever been with ever did that. They didn't even seem to know about it. It was one of the perks of being with an older woman. They knew much more than girls your age knew.

Noah let go of the sheets he was grabbing on and placed both hands on the back of his mother's head. He thrust his hips upwards in tempo to his mother's head movement. Each time, the whole length of his dick entered his mother's mouth, her nose buried in his pubes. She sucked and he thrust.

Angela didn't want her son to come just yet, not before she got her fill. She pulled away and then took off her sopping panties. She too hadn't trimmed in a long time. It was thick. It wasn't how she would have preferred, but her husband had always liked it more that way. He hated the prickliness when she shaved. After that one time, she never shaved her pubes again, only trimmed them so they don't get in the way.

She clambered up her son's body, knees on either side of him. His hands were stroking her thighs all the while. She stepped over his shoulders, placing his head between her knees. In a whisper, she said, "Sorry. I haven't trimmed in a while."

"I like it better this way," Noah answered. They even have the same taste, she thought wryly, and then she lowered her body until her cunt was resting on her son's face. She felt the warm tongue of her son worm its way all over her hairy cunt. She drew in a sharp breath. How long has it been since she felt that? It felt like heaven. She placed her left palm on the wall in front of her and patted her son's head with her right as he ate her out. My son had grown, she thought. She knew that Noah wouldn't be a virgin anymore, that he'd have had experiences. After all, if a mother couldn't resist her son sexually, how could any other girl? But what she didn't account for was how good he was. It wasn't just the tongue of someone who had tasted one or two different girls, she knew, it was of someone who was good enough to make money doing it. It wasn't just experience, it was a skill. She had to admit, her son was better than his father at that.

As Noah pinched her clit with his teeth, inserted his tongue as far as it would go into her vagina, and played all sorts of dances on his tongues on the dance floor that was her vulva, Angela felt a pang of disappointment that it wasn't her that took her son's virginity. She didn't really care about how many times her son had had sex with other woman, as long as he was careful, but she would've wanted to be the one to bring her son into maturity, introduce him to the world of pleasure, orgasms and climaxes. She thought she should've been the first woman he inserted his dick in. But what does it matter? They were doing it now.

His mother pulled away and moved back down. She kissed him, and then moved her head to the side, her lips next to his ear. She whispered in a sultry voice, "Fuck me now, Noah."

Noah then put his arms around his mother and then wrestled her to her back. He was now on top. His mother spread her legs for him, knees bent, exposing her pussy, inviting her son to it. He was kneeling between his mother's legs, his dick, covered with dried saliva, but the tip wet with pre-cum, pointed to the ceiling. He leaned forward, crotch on top of crotch. He put his weight on his left hand which was pressing down on the bed beside his mother's waist, as he held his dick with his right hand, aiming, and acquiring target.

Noah slowly lowered his waist, his dick pointing forward in direct line to the opening of his mother's cunt. Then, smoothly and gracefully, his dick entered his mother's pussy inch by inch, and in one smooth push, the whole of his dick was inside. It was warm and moist, much like her mouth, but this was much tighter, and the throbbing was not only his dick, but it also came from the walls of the inside of her mother's cunt. He pulled it back, but not all the way, and then pushed it down again. He'd never had sex with anyone older than him by five years, let alone twenty one years, and he'd expected it to be a little loose. But it was just a myth, he thought. It was just as tight as the others', let alone the virgin he gave his virginity to. What a difference! From a virgin girl who was a stranger to him, to a forty year old woman who was his mother. What a difference indeed!

He grunted, his mother moaned. He quickened the pace and he went as fast as he could. Angela kept up with her son. They changed position. She was on all fours and he was kneeling behind her, fucking her from behind. Angela's breasts swung in rhythm to her son's quick thrusts. Her son's thighs slapping on her ass as they met, producing a clapping sound that got louder as both their bodies were staring to sweat. Noah reached for his mother's breasts and fondled them as he continued fucking her.

They changed positions again. Noah was lying on her back, and Angela straddled him. Now she controlled the rhythm. She went slower. If she left her son to his own device, she knew he would come too soon. She didn't want that. She wanted it to last as long as it could. She didn't hope of a climax herself that much, but she would stretch it as long as her son could endure. She moved her hips to and fro, her son's hands moving all over her body, not really knowing what to do. She could tell he was used to being on top. With her husband, it was pretty even. She thought her son was almost as good as his father. He needed to learn to take it slow. The way he fucked, it resembled his father in their early years, hurried and impatient. He'd always come too soon until she'd told him to take it slow and take his time.

Angela stopped in intervals to catch their breaths and to slow down the work of her son's building orgasm. She turned around, her back to her son, and then leaned back, lying on her back on top of her son's body. She turned her head sideways and kissed him. "Tell me if you're about to come," she said. She thought she saw him nod. Her legs were spread eagle. Her son lifted his waist, which lifted both of them, and then fucked her from below. She too moved her hips up and down, keeping pace.

Noah felt her mother's back sticking to his abdomen. It was hot and steamy. He thrust as fast as he could, not wanting his mother to slow down the pace for him. He thought he could hold his own. But that position was tiring. Soon, his waist ached and his pace slowed. He rested, lying flat on the bed and his mother lying on her back on top of him, his dick still inside his mother's pussy. They both panted.

Noah then pushed his mother off of him, telling her to lie on her back. He had to move back to the position he loved the most and used best. He knew his mother would want to make the most of their first time together, to try all the positions she knew, lead him, teach him, but he was too eager for all that. It wasn't a sex lesson. He did not have the patience for that. All the teaching would have to come later because he wanted to come now.

His mother wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. She knew what her son wanted. He just wanted to fuck. She hadn't expected much more than that anyway, so she got along with it. There will be plenty of times later where they could take their time. After all they have the house to themselves.

Noah pushed his dick in and out, again and again and again, panting, sweats dripping, grunting audibly. His mother under him, sticky with sweat, moaned and panted heavily. Their minds were blank except for one thought - how good it felt.

Noah felt the climax rising, he still pushed his dick inside his mother. He felt the semen flowing through his vas deferens, almost reaching his urethra. He gave it a few more thrusts. Then, in a strained voice, he announced, "I'm coming!" In the nick of time, he pulled his dick out of his mother's cunt and sprayed his white hot semen all over his mother's belly. The scent of his cum covered the room. It smelled sweeter than it ever did before. He felt the heat rising from it. If felt glorious. He leaned down and then kissed his mother on the lips. He flopped down beside his mother, lying on his back.

Angela was happy. She felt fairly satisfied. Her son reached his climax while fucking her. How could it be any better? She wondered if he might be willing to go another round as she wiped her son's semen off from her belly with a towel. She then closed her eyes, only resting. When she felt her son move, she opened them. She thought he might get off the bed and go to his room, but he placed himself at her feet, kneeling down, and his face on top of her crotch. She looked down at him. He looked up.

His expression was almost apologetic and sheepish. Without a word, he began to eat her out with the help of his fingers. It took her another four minutes to reach her climax. She reached orgasm only about one in ten times, and she didn't hold much hope in reaching it that night, considering that her son was only nineteen and had much more to learn about how to really please and satisfy a woman. Her husband tried hard, but he did not succeed every time. She was just happy that her son too was trying. She decided she'd tell her son to stop if it took too long or it looked like she wasn't going to climax. Suddenly, all the tensions building up in her pelvic area are released. Her muscles all over her body, especially over her groin contracted and expanded as her sight suddenly got dimmer. It felt like she was experiencing sleep paralysis, only this time, the fear and terror was replaced with immense waves of pleasure. She didn't even realize she had shouted. It lasted for about twenty seconds until her muscles finally relaxed. A cold draft blew. It felt refreshing. She took deep and heavy breaths as she regained her full senses.

*

She woke up, facing away from her son. The borders of her curtains didn't glow yellow, it was a dull grey. She could tell it was overcast outside. She was lying on her side and Noah was behind her, his right arm on top of her. Her son was spooning her. She felt his morning wood pressing again her butt. They were both still naked under the covers. She suddenly felt a rush of disgust. Not even a shred of sexual arousal or attraction was left towards her son as the memories of the previous night came streaming back into her mind. What have you done, you miserable fool? She asked herself. What, in heaven's name, have you done?

She pulled back the covers and got out of bed. She looked at Noah and saw how beautiful he was, how peaceful he looked in his sleep. The face, so innocent, so serene. And then you went and corrupted him!

She left a note on the refrigerator before she left early for work. She cried on the way. Strangers stared at her. She felt guilt and shame. Their stares pierced right into her soul. They know, she thought. They know what I have done. They know who I am. They know how I have corrupted my son. They know how I have sinned. How Angela tortured herself inside!

She spent almost half her time at work in the washroom, crying, washing her face, wiping it dry, reapplying makeup, and then doing it all over again. One of her friends kindly there told her to go home and rest. She shouldn't come to work in the state she was in. But how could she return to where she had coerced her son into the gates of hell? How could she ever face her son again, knowing what she had done to him? She wondered what her son was thinking. But what he thought hardly mattered because she knew he shouldn't have had anything to think about. She was the mother, and she had failed at motherhood.

After work, she didn't go home. She went to the park and sat on the bench for over three hours. People came and went. She had the irrational fear that someone she knew might just come up to her and berate her, tell her that they knew what went on in her bedroom last night, tell her how disgusting she was, tell her how convoluted, how insane, how perverted, how depraved she was, and just physically abuse her. She would have defended herself.

When she finally went home, she decided she should talk to her son, face the music, tell him how wrong it was what they had done, and that it would never happen again. At the dinner table, a single plate was set and the dinner was neatly covered. On the plate was a note. 'I'm sorry I couldn't wait up.' Nothing else was written on it.

She first took a shower, and then ate the cold meal. It tasted bland, not because of the poor cooking, but because of her state of mind. She did the dishes, and then sat in the living room, trying to read a book. She kept rereading a line until she finally gave up. She just sat there and thought. When should she do it? Should she just go up to his son's room and tell him everything she had thought about? How will he take it? Does he feel the same way as I do? Or does he want more? He wouldn't want more. He couldn't want more. He'd know how wrong it was. He is no fool. Yes, he is no fool. He doesn't need to be lectured, least of all by me. He knows it was the one and only time. Nothing like that will ever happen again. She won't let it. She can't let it.

Angela decided that her son could come to his own conclusions, and changed her mind about speaking to him about it. She didn't want to embarrass him, and neither did she want to be embarrasses.

After about another hour, she brushed her teeth, undressed, and headed for bed. She lay there unable to sleep. Two sides of her mind were fighting over what it should think about. She counted sheep.

One thousand one hundred and nineteen sheep. Her door slowly creaked open. The light was dim, but she could see as clear as day. Noah stood at her door, looking in, inquiring. He was wearing only his boxer shorts. So beautiful, she thought. She peeled back the covers, inviting her son into her bed.