The Grand Strategy Ch. 04

"Perfect nipples, perfect breasts," I told her. "You'll never get a complaint out of me."

"I guessed you would like them, Bill. They're about the same size as Tammy's." That cat was out of the bag, and I'd return to that subject later. But now was not the time.

I looked at her. "Mary. I have always wondered how perfect your little pussy is." She raised her hips up, and I shucked the yoga pants and panties down her legs. That was a red-haired pussy. It was the same color as her hair, and she didn't trim it, which I appreciated. I lowered my head to it, and took a deep sniff through my nose. Her smell was strong, very strong. It was not unpleasant, but was a very strong, musky smell. I bent to kiss her pussy.

She pulled me up by my shoulders. "You don't have to, Bill. It's okay."

I looked at her. "I don't have to what?"

She seemed a little sad. "You don't have to go down there. I know I have a strong smell."

I was getting a little put out. "Mary, goddammit. I have never seen such a perfectly beautiful woman with such insecurities. Do you not know that you are the most beautiful woman any man will ever see? You look beautiful, your breasts are my dream, you smell intoxicating, and I know you taste delicious."

With that, I buried my face in her pussy and went to work. She had an orgasm in no time, and I didn't even pause. I kept going, using my mouth and fingers on her pussy and her ass, and in no time I had her coming again.

"Bill, give me a break. You're killing an old woman." She pulled me up to her, and we kissed deeply. I made her taste herself in my mouth.

"See? Delicious."

We laid there awhile snuggling while we both recovered, and then there was only one thing left. Well, maybe two, but I wasn't counting my chickens before they hatched.

"Mary? Either I give you rug burns on the floor, or we go to the bedroom. Your choice."

She jumped up, and I got a good look at her full figure. What a fine woman. She took me by the hand and led me to her bedroom. She turned the covers down and hopped into the center of the bed. Beckoning me with her finger, she purred, "Come here, big boy."

I shucked my clothes off, crawled into the bed, and she pushed me onto my back. She didn't hesitate, but dove her face onto my dick. There was no preamble to it. She took me practically all the way into her mouth - the closest thing to deep-throating I've ever had. She sucked me, licking the head of my dick, while she pumped me with her left hand. I looked down to see my dick going in and out of her mouth while her hand, with her wedding ring, worked my dick. I knew I wouldn't last long with that going on and with the wine I wasn't sure I'd be good for a second go, so I pulled her off. She came off my dick with a loud slurp, and licked her lips as she looked up at me.

This was Mary. I couldn't get it out of my mind. Perfect, strict, no nonsense Mary, Roger's Mother, and she just had my dick in her mouth. I remembered when we were afraid to rub against her ass, and now she was naked in bed with me. Life, my friend, is full of surprises.

I pulled her up, took her ass in my hands, and we lowered her onto my dick. Her pussy was tight, as tight as any I could remember. How could she be a Mother, and have such a tight pussy? She started rocking on me while I helped her along with my hands on her ass. I reached around her ass to touch her there, and she yelped. I stopped because I thought maybe she didn't like it, but one look at her face told me different. I probed her little ass with my finger, and she had another orgasm immediately. I wasn't counting, but it was number three.

I have fucked a fair number of times in my life. I'm no great swordsman, but I've had my share for my age. Until that night, I don't think I have ever enjoyed fucking as much as I enjoyed fucking Mary. She couldn't get enough. She was so sensitive that lightly touching her skin with my fingers would make her shiver. My mouth on her pussy sent her into shivers of delight. Her nipples. She loved me working those nipples.

She wouldn't let me fuck her ass, but she liked the finger play and promised we'd try it sometime.

Redheads, I have read, are super sensitive to both pain and pleasure because of the receptors in their skin, or something like that. I don't know if that's true, but I do know that Mary was the most sensuous woman I had ever loved, to that point.

Because she was deprived. Her husband, Roger's dad, never went down and ate her pussy. He said she smelled bad and it made him gag. What kind of thing is that to say to a woman, especially your wife? He told her that her nipples were abnormal and freaked him out because they were like little dicks. I guess he didn't suck them. I hoped she knew when we were done that I thought she was perfect. I hoped she knew what a good pussy eating was like. I know I didn't have to invite myself back. She asked me when I'd be able to come again.

"So, Bill. Are you going to use me as a one-night-stand, or will you be back?"

What a relief. "Oh, Mary, I was hoping you'd say that. I was worried you wouldn't want me again."

"Seriously, Bill? I hope to dance with you at your wedding someday, and I'll whisper in your ear about the lovemaking we did just the week before your wedding. I'm not your Mother, but almost, and I always want to be in your life. We have a bond, Bill, that is beyond friendship."

With that opening, I broached it with her - the grand strategy. "Mary," I said. "I think I might know what's bothering Roger."

She was all ears. "What? Tell me!"

"Mary, I've got a secret and if I tell you, you can't tell anyone."

"Uh, yeah, Bill. I think we have our own secret now, don't we?"

"Okay. Mary, as much as I have wanted you all these years, I have wanted Mom more. Mary, forgive me for saying it, but I am obsessed with fucking my Mother. I can't help it, Mary, but I am. And the thing is, I think Roger feels the same way about you. I know he used to, and I can't imagine that has changed."

Mary didn't seem shocked, or even surprised. "I think he used to be, but I'm not sure he still feels that way. He acts like he can't stand me." She teared up a little.

"No, Mary. It's not that. He wants you just like I want you, but more. He thinks he can't have you, and he's afraid if he's around you or shows you love, that he'll make a mistake and you'll get mad at him. That's all. Being around you, for him, is like showing a kid a candy bar and telling him he can only look at it, and can't taste it."

She didn't say anything.

"Would you, Mary? If you had a chance, would you let Roger have more? Have you ever thought of it?"

"I don't know, Bill, and we'll never know. He won't even come home."

"You think about it, Mary. I'll tell you, I'm going to try with Mom, and I hope you'll let Roger try with you. Maybe we'll both get lucky. But first, let me call Roger tomorrow and see if I can talk him into coming home."

She nodded, but added, "I don't know, Bill. I'd be afraid. Too many things could go wrong. I know it goes on. I've known women who slept with their adult sons, but I don't think I could do it."

My ears perked up. She knows women who do it? Who could she be talking about?

"Mary? Who? Who do you know who's doing it?"

"No, Bill. The secret love between a Mother and her Son has to be the most treasured secret ever. No one can know, Bill, if you do that. I have my strong suspicions about a couple of Mothers, no one in our group, but I won't share them with you. All I can do is tell you to watch how some Mothers and Sons interact. You see some Mothers who have a tight, close relationship with their Sons and, I'll bet, there's some special reason for it."

I thought about that. Yes, I had known some Mothers and Sons who seemed to avoid the stiffness in their relationships that all my friends, me included, had developed with our own Moms. It seemed almost required, the way we had done it. You love your Mom unconditionally and completely when you're a kid. Then you hit puberty, and you start pulling away from her. By the time you're a man, you're so afraid of your feelings that you treat her like you can't stand to be around her.

"Mary, why does it have to be like that? Why can't Mothers and Sons evolve their love to include sex when the boy becomes a man? It seems like their love evolves to a point, and then the growth becomes stunted by the fear of sex, and withers away."

"Because we're all afraid, Bill. You're afraid of your Mom's anger. You're afraid of your Dad's anger. Your Mom is afraid that you might reject her. She's older, and she's afraid you would find her disgusting. She's afraid of being shamed. We're afraid of everything about it."

I was curling my fingers in her bright red pubic hair while she was saying this, and slid my finger into her still-lubricated pussy. "Yeah, I can see how Roger might be disgusted by this," and then I laughed. Thankfully, she laughed too.

"So Mary. When did you decide to make love with me? At what point did you decide, 'Yeah, I'll let Bill have it.'"

"I don't know if I have yet, Billy."

I snorted in laughter. "Uh, Mary. I think it's a little late for that, Honey."

She laughed with me. "You just broke the code, Bill, in the difference between men and women. Men have one switch. It's either off or on. For a man, it's all about getting the sex and once he's decided he wants a woman, that's his goal. Right?"

"Yeah. Pretty much. I have to admit, when I called you the other day, I was already dreaming it would lead to this."

She nodded. "Of course. But with women, it's not like that. We don't decide, 'OK, I'm going to have sex with Bill if he goes for it.' No. For us, it's all in the moment. That's why you take tiny steps with a woman. We're not even thinking about the ultimate step, usually. It's like our first kiss, you and me. You were very sweet to ask me if you could kiss me, and in that moment, that was my decision - whether to kiss you or not. When you touched my breast, my decision was not whether we'd have sex, but whether I'd let you touch me. By the time we get to the final decision, to do it or not, it's just one more step in the long process. By the time we get there, it's really no big deal for us. It's just another step."

I thought about that, and it made sense. Men and women have different mental processes in the decision to have sex, and that's why it sometimes went awry.

She continued. "That's why the whole 'No Means No' movement is so important, Bill. A woman can let you play with her breasts, but that just means she has decided to let you play with her breasts. It doesn't mean she has consented to sex. She can have your dick in your hand, and still not have made the decision to have sex with you. So, at the next little decision point, she might decide that's a No. You always have to respect that, Bill. Promise me that. With any woman, you have to allow her to decide at every step and if she really says 'No,' then that means No."

I understood, and I promised her. I had just learned a profound lesson, though. Go slow, but ever forward, and allow her to decide in the moment if she was okay with what you were doing, and understand that did not mean she had agreed to the whole shooting match.

Then I laughed. "But Mary, I think you were telling me 'No,' when I went in and kissed you anyway."

"No, Bill. I was not telling you 'No.' If I had meant No, I would have said 'No.' What was I saying when you kissed me?"

"I forget. All I can remember was your beautiful face."

"I was saying, 'No, Bill. I wouldn't be offended, but I'm not sure it's the right thing to do.' I was telling you 'Yes,' but I didn't want to seem as if I was going to be too easy for you. I was giving us an out, if you weren't really serious about it. See, Bill, women fear being used by a man as just a sex outlet. For us, sex is a part of what we really want, and that is love. Men just want sex. Women want love, with sex being a part of how we express our love. No woman wants to be used."

I thought about that. "So, Mary, hypothetically, if I restored my relationship with Mom and showed her that sex was a part of the deeper love she really wants with me, then it might be possible?"

"Bingo, Bill, but not that directly, of course. I know what you want, and Tammy knows what you want. If she doesn't now, she'll know it at some point. But your Mom is a beautiful woman. If she just wanted sex, she could get that from practically anyone, couldn't she? She could sure get it from someone other than you, her son, with all the potential complications that could bring, right? You have to show her that you love her deeply and, if sex is a part of that, way down the road, then it will be a mutual expression, between you two, of your deeper love."

"Hmmm. It sounds like we both want the same thing, Mary. I'm going to try to build my relationship with Mom, while you want Roger to build his relationship with you."

"Yep. That about sums it up, Bill. You have the easier road because you are the one who will initiate it. For me, it's more difficult. Roger knows I want more love from him, and there's nothing more I can do to encourage him. I can't just strip off, say 'You want this, Big Boy?,' and expect him to come around. That would send all the wrong signals. That would tell him that sex was more important than love."

She seemed a little sad. I said, "Mary, stop it. You know Roger loves you. He's confused, just like me, but I'll bet he comes around."

I spent the night with Mary, and neither of us slept much at all. We'd doze off, in each other's arms, and then awaken to more caressing, loving, sucking, and fucking. I could not get enough of her, and she seemed to feel the same about me. It was the most profound lovemaking experience I had ever had, and I realized that I did love Mary deeply. I hoped Roger could have the same thing with her, for that would make her happy. I left Mary, well-loved and well-fucked, with some lessons that were beyond value.

First, with a woman, it's step-by-step, and every step in the process was another decision point that must be respected. I knew I couldn't change my mental wiring - I wanted sex as the goal. But every step led where I wanted to go if I honestly made it a step toward deeper love.

Second, all women, and especially Mothers, want love. Sex might be a big part of that, but it was only a part of the whole, and not the be-all, end-all of it. If love led to sex, then all the better.