Who Would Have Thought

"You are so beautiful mum," I said after staring at her escaping pussy lips.

"Why thank-you kind sir," she said with the slightest of mocking tones, and I couldn't help but smile back at her.

Then in a husky voice full passionate and desire mum asked,

"Can you see alright?"

My eyes dropped to her panties and overflowing pussy and said,

"Oh yeah, and your pussy looks spectacular."

Mum smiled and asked in a very seductive voice,

"Is that what people call it today?"

I nodded as I stared between her legs.

"I prefer you to say cunt, because I like the word. It has all those filthy connotations attached to it. I think cunt sounds sexier."

She stared at me and I could see the overwhelming desire and need in her eyes. I decided to take the bit between my teeth. I reached forward and touched my mum's cunt for the first time, as I ran my middle finger up and down both the sides of her extruded flesh. Her response was instant, as she sucked in her breath and her mouth opened. Mum let out her breath.

"Oh, that's so nice," and her eyes half closed and opened wide as she watched her son touch her cunt with deviant desire.

"Oh, we shouldn't be doing this, it's so dirty my own son touching my cunt," she said breathlessly, but like a car crash she was fascinated by what she was looking at and couldn't look away – even when society said it was wrong.

Mum spread her knees very wide for me, and what an invitation.

"Oh, ah," mum repeated over and over, and then looked up at me.

"I hope that's not it," she said with a look of deep longing and need.

"Certainly not! You're been fantastic to me all afternoon, so this is my way of showing how much I appreciate what you did – well part of it," I told her as mum's eyes were drawn back to my finger gently caressing both of her cunt lips.

They were spongy to the touch, and as smooth as silk.

"Robbie you shouldn't be touching me like this. Oh, oh, oh."

Mum was still staring, totally taken in by her son's hand on her cunt.

"Robbie we should stop, ah, ah, oh yeah it's nice," she said.

Then she grabbed the top of the middle of her tiny boxers and pulled the crotch upward so it slid into the slit of her cunt, and her huge cunt lips were fully released. Her cunt was actually dribbling her juices. I was 'over the moon' at the enormity of mum's camel toe, it was so beautiful.

I continued to run my finger up and down mum's cunt, and then increased the pressure. Mum slid her bottom forward and down on the couch.

"Oh Robbie pleased don't touch my cunt, don't touch my cunt Robbie," mum pleaded and began to pull rhythmically on her tiny boxers, so they pulled on her clit.

She continued to moan and sigh in response to me touching her.

"Robbie my cunt, my cunt, touch my cunt, touch my cunt. Oooh I need you to touch my cunt, touch my cunt."

I changed my position so I could access mum's pussy better, and moved my head in between her legs. Mum's eyes were closed and her head was tilted back a little, so she was no longer watching her son play with her fat cunt. I brought my face right between her legs and hook an arm around each of her legs, and this made her look to see what I was doing.

"Oh no Robbie don't lick mummy's cunt, don't lick mummy's cunt," she said in a pleading voice and then 'OOOOH, AAAAH,' as I licked mum's cunt lips for the first time.

I licked hard and watched as her fat, spongy cunt lips vibrated and quivered. I could see mum staring at her son licking her huge cunt and her breathing was fast and her moaning had turned into loud groans, which she was emitting with gusto. Her eyes were large, probably because of what I was doing and I was her son.

"Is that nice mum?" I asked between licks of her fat cunt lips.

"Oh yeah, oh yeah, its great, but you can't lick mummy's cunt, you can't, ooh, ooh, ooh, you can't lick, ooh, ooh," and mum let out a loud "AAAAH, AAAAH," because I was licking her clit now.

"Ooh my beautiful boy, lick mummy's cunt, lick it, lick it, faster, faster, harder, ooh yes that's it."

Mum's voice was constricted now.

I took the crotch out of mum's hand and moved it to one side. Mum was so wet it had soaking into the couch, it was drenched. Mum's eyes were closed again, but her head was down, chin on her chest. Mum's face was screwed up with her mounting orgasm. I looked at mum's cunt, totally exposed to her son now and thought it even more beautiful. Her cunt lips were now open and mum's juices glistened over her lips and all over the rest of her cunt. Man was mum lubricated.

"Oh baby, baby, my precious baby, lick me, oh yeah just like that, AH, AH, AH," mum was now quite loud.

I let go of her right leg and brought my hand to her cunt now, and as I resumed my licking of mum's clit I inserted a finger into her love tunnel. Instantly mum's eyes flew open and she stared lustfully at my tongue and finger, which was moving quickly in and out between her cunt lips.

"Oooooh yeah," mum said very slowly and her face contorted.

"Oh you naughty boy, you naughty boy," she said as if she was crying.

"Don't stop, don't stop, AAAAH, AAAAH." Mum was loving this.

I now inserted a second finger into her cunt with an immediate impact. Mum's face contorted even more, she screwed her eyes closed, her tongue stuck right out, her head was shaking violently and she was making loud guttural noises. 'Oh yeah mum's loving this,' I though. I speed up my finger fucking and hardened my licking of mum's clip and I could hear her noises rise in pitch, and about twenty seconds later everything stopped as mum held the high point of her orgasm. Her cunt dribbled her cum onto my hand that was still cupping her fat lips that had lost none of their size. Then she suddenly deflated and I stopped everything. Her upper body collapsed forward into my arms, and I was ready for it. Mum was totally spent.

I carried mum to her bed and put a sheet on her, still in her tiny cum soaked boxers and the other cloths she was wearing. Then went to the toilet and relieved myself, as I jacked myself and came in quick tiime. It had been long, hard and horny work. I went back to the couch, turned the TV on to watch the cricket and was asleep within minutes.

I woke up about half an hour later and could hear mum stirring, and as I stretched to wake fully mum walked into the lounge and sat next to me. She was still wearing the same shirt, but now a skirt and not the wrap. As I was sitting at one end, she sat at the other just like before. She looked very worried. Mum was sitting with her hands in her lap, her fingers twining together and ensuring her skirt revealed nothing. Mum said,

"Robbie we shouldn't have done this, it's wrong, we have to stop."

I considered her words for a couple of seconds, knowing that mum would probably come out and say this.

"You think this is what we should do, end it, not be with each other ever again?"

I watched mum's face closely as I said this and I could see the dichotomy of emotions on her face.

"Yes Robbie, it's for the best," but I could see this was causing her pain.

"Ok mum, if that's what you want. But can we still be friends like before, and you'll still treat me the same?"

I tried to keep an impassive expression.

"Oh of course love, you will always be my special boy," mum said brightly and that's all I wanted to hear.

I allowed my expression to drop and take on the appearance of a shattered man.

"Good. Can we eat at home tonight; I'm a bit gutted and really can't face other people," I smiled weekly and mum's reaction was instantaneous.

"Of course, love, of course, we can eat in. Do you want to order out or shall I make something?" concern written all over her face.

"If you made something that would be really nice. I like it when you do stuff for me. I love you mum," I ended with that just to put emphasis on what I had said.

I could see the confusion on mum's face. She was caught between desire and love, and the social conventions of our time.

For the rest of the afternoon we chatted, although it was strained, as I could tell mum was being overly cautious. However, within a half hour we were back to the mother and son of yesterday. 'Time to make my move' I thought, and then the opportunity arose. Mum suggested we have a cuppa and I volunteered to help her, and in the confines of the small kitchenette of the apartment I lay my trap.

As we busied ourselves with cups, coffee and the like, we had to squeeze past each other, tap each other for them to move because they were blocking a cupboard, and generally be at very close quarters. Our bodies had to come in contact. I used this time to touch mum as much as possible, and at first she was a little cold, but thawed out very quickly. Then mum was touching me as often as possible.

By the time we had finished in that confining room, mum was giggling and bubbly like a school girl again. We sat back on the couch and this time mum's whole body language had changed. I made a conscious effort to make her laugh, and lighten both our moods. I told her funny stories, jokes, imitated people and whatever I could; and mum laughed very freely, hit me as women seem to love to do to their men, place her hand on me and have it linger. Each time she hit me I would grab her hand and pull her toward me, which made her laugh all the more, but she didn't stop hitting me.

After about fifteen minutes or so mum, allowed her skirt to ride up for the first time without pulling it back down. My hungry eyes looked straight up her skirt, to see mum's beautiful bulging cunt straining against her see through panties. Mum saw me looking, and she knew I saw her looking ay me, but continued to allow her son to stare at her cunt for a few seconds, and then the cover-up.

Now mum seemed free enough to give me some physical affection, and she would rub my shoulder or place her hand on my knee. I began to respond, and rubbed her shoulder, hold her hand for a few seconds at a time and then finally I brushed her cheek. Mum got that look in her eye again, the one she had as I held up her skirt for the last time earlier that afternoon; the look that spoke of deep love, desire and passion. I was very glad to see my real mum was back. Finally, mum said,

"You're a naughty boy Robbie, making me feel better."

I decided not to speak of my earlier touching of her cunt, so as not to upset her.

"But that's what a dutiful son does for his mum; to make her laugh when she's feeling down. All us sons have to make our mums feel good."

By her expression I could see mum saw my real meaning.

"Well thank-you," she said graciously and leaned forward to hit me with both hands again, but this time I pulled her into me and held her.

"What? 'Thank-you'? I thought I was a naughty boy, are you thanking me for being a naughty boy toward you," I asked in a mocking tone.

Mum didn't make a move to break my hold on her, but rather she responded by holding me. Without looking at me she said quietly,

"You know what I mean."

I did, but I was on a roll.

"Well was I naughty or nice to you."

My question was charged with meaning. Mum was never a person not to answer a question posed to her. Not like some people that when you ask them a difficult question, because their answer may place them in an awkward position, so they claim the 'fifth' and don't answer. Mum always answers, I knew her well enough to know I would get an answer from her and it would be truthful. I could hear mum slowly gathering herself to answer me. Then very quietly mum said,

"You were nice."

I gave her a little squeeze and asked gently,

"Just 'nice'?"

Mum turned her body into me more and said in a husky voice,

"No not nice, brilliant. You were brilliant to your mum and she appreciates it more then she can say."

I gather mum was talking in the third person because it made it easier for her; she didn't have to verbally admit her son played with her cunt until she had a spectacular orgasm. I could understand that.

"I'm so glad I was brilliant for my mum, I always want to be brilliant for her."

My words were not direct, making it easier for her to hear them. I ran my hand from her shoulder to her hip, and mum turned her ample bottom to my hand. I caressed her bottom and she sighed and then moaned.

"I want you to be brilliant for me too," mum told me softly.

'The green light', I thought and I couldn't believe how it made me feel – invincible.

"I will be mum, I will be. I love you so much it hurt when I thought I had upset you."

I had decided to express my feelings to her; now was the time. Mum snuggled into me and I could hear her softly sobbing.

"Hey, hey, what's all this?" I asked her, but didn't try to lift her head to look at her.

As always mum had an answer,

"I'm so sorry I hurt you Robbie, you're my beautiful man. I never wanted to hurt you. I was hurting too, I'm sorry Robbie, will you forgive me," mum pleaded with me, her face buried in my chest.

"Of course I forgive you, but why were you hurt?"

That was the sixty-four thousand dollar question. Again mum had to answer,

"Because as soon as I told you 'no more' my heart nearly broke because I wanted you so much. Then when I saw how you treated me after what I had said I was ashamed. I was ashamed for putting other people first, because society says 'no'. I was ashamed I wasn't putting you first, my beautiful boy, my beautiful Robbie, who's only crime, was to love his mother as she needed to be loved. I was ashamed for putting other people before me too, because you were so loving and considerate to me. You had no thought for yourself, but all your attention was on me, and that's what I've always dreamed of but never had. You were my dream come true, and how often do peoples' dreams come true?"

That was quite an answer.

"Well I don't know about anyone else, but my dream has come true too," I told mum, and now she pulled back a little to look at me.

"What was your dream?" she asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

"You are my dream mum, and have been for years."

Mum stared disbelievingly into my eyes and saw it was the truth.

"I'm your dream?" she asked incredulously.

"Well on two levels you are."

I was inviting the language mothers and sons don't use, language that mum had been avoiding.

"What are the two levels?" she asked becoming a little excited, as she smiled, tears gone and eyes wide in anticipation.

"Well the first level of my dream is you specifically. I have dreamed of you over and over." I paused, but mum was hooked.

"The second level?" she asked eyes glistening.

"Well I'm not sure you want to hear it," I warned.

"Rubbish. How often does a girl hear these things?"

"Ok, but I warned you. The second level is that I always dreamed that my lover would have a cunt as magnificent as yours."

There I had said it, but mum smiled broadly.

"You like the way my cunt looks?"

'We are back as lovers', I thought.

"I love the way your cunt looks, and how you respond when I touch your cunt lips, and lick your clit and finger fuck your cunt," I told her deliberately using graphic detail.

Mum was beaming all through my list.

"I love having you look at my cunt, touching it, and licking it, finger fucking it and you're going to fuck my cunt with your cock too, as often as you want. I want my son to look up my dresses and skirts, and put his hand up to feel my cunt through my nice new panties, or maybe no panties at all some times. I want my son to finger fuck me as we drive in the car, and sit at restaurants and the cinema. I want my son's hard cock to fill my cunt right up, and then come inside me."

I must have looked strange, because mum laughed at me.

"Oh, and I liked telling you 'no', does that bother you?" mum asked a little concerned.

"Hell no, I like it," I told her enthusiastically.

"So what do you want to do now?" she asked me, but I wanted her to live out one of her fantasies, because I was pretty sure she had some.

"No, this is ladies choice," I replied and mum smiled at me.

"Give me a few minutes," she said and dashed off to her room. True to her word she was back in only a few minutes. She was wearing a short skirt and a shirt that both looked rather non-descript, but I could tell by her little grin there was more to her ensemble then met the eye.

"Let's go for a drive," mum suggested with just a hint of 'naughtiness' in her voice.

I was instantly aroused.

"Were do you want to go?" I asked, pleased to be in her fantasy; because I was sure she was about to live out a long held fantasy.

To be continued.....