Title: Difficult Part
Keywords: mF, mat, inc, mom, son
Author: Caesar
Summary: Son recounts how, as he matures, his sexual relationship with mother transforms.



There was a young idler named Blood,
Made a fortune performing at stud,
        With a fifteen-inch peter,
        A double-beat metre,
And a load like the Biblical Flood.
 

Difficult Part

by Caesar, copyright 2004

$Revision: 1.3 $ $Date: 2007-12-02 07:47:45 $

Do you want to know the most difficult thing about having a sexual
relationship with your mother?  Without a doubt - it has to be the
fact that you can never tell a soul about it.  This is before the age
of common Internet access - before there was anonymous ways to
communicate with others with, lets say, special sexual interests.

And so, it is not so long ago either, that I was a, seemingly,
introverted high-school honour student who lived in a large house with
his divorced mother.  She worked at the local bank and attended a
women's divorcee support group as well as two craft clubs.  I studied
hard, played baseball in the spring and hockey in the winter.  It
being a small town - we were known, liked and accepted by our fellow
citizens.

What would those same people say if just a rumour of my more
complicated relationship with my mother ever became known?  I shudder
to think - my mom is horrified at the prospect.  Yet neither of us
wanted to leave the small town and move to big city, to the seemingly
safer autonomy of large crowds.  This town is where mother had grown
up, where I had been born and where our lives were.

So the only alternative was to be ultra-secret lovers.

In the privacy of our own home - mother and I no longer played the
script that life handed us.  Meaning she did not play the matronly
parent and I did not pretend to be the rebellious teenager.  Oh sure
there were exceptions, where mom had to assert her mature dominance
for whatever reason - but these were few and far between.  No, in
private we lived a carefree, loving and respectful life together.  We
actually sought out each other's company, we had fun together and we
enjoyed just 'being'.  We also could not get enough of each other
sexually - being like children with a new toy together.  Nothing was
forbidden and we always shared.

Outside the home, though, we kept our distance.  She wearing a stern
somber face and I a bored distant one.  We never touched each other -
even in an innocent way.  And we never spoke of anything intimate
outside the locked sanctuary of our home.

These strict rules that we both agreed too, forced us to live like
hermits.  We stayed in the house unless our lives forced otherwise -
work and school for the most part.  Oh we kept appearances, me with my
sports and mom with her clubs.

Mom became distant with her friends - many of whom had deserted her
when my father left us for another woman.  She balanced this loss by
having her son, me, become her closest confidant as well as lover.  I,
on the other hand, kept a handful of close friends that all thought me
a bookworm with a tyrant of a mother that never let me date.  Thats
the lie I told - that my mom wanted me to do good in school, so I
could not date.

If your a teenage guy with an eye on your mother's curves and consider
what it would be like to be in my situation, don't think that its all
play.  I came home from school and started supper - mom arrived,
dressed down into her around-the-home sweats and tee-shirt - we ate -
then I went to my room to study and she normally read a book or a
craft magazine.  If I neglected my studies, mom would sit me down and
remind me of my responsibilities.  If I did not have time to prepare
supper, she would order something delivered for the two of us.  Often,
mom would return home from the bank exhausted and a little cranky -
and I learnt how to manage her on those occasions.  Or I wanted a cool
new thing all my friends are buying, often with their own money from
working part time jobs, and mom could not afford it so we would argue.
Mom spent one weekend day a month doing all the bills - often her mood
was worse at those times than at any other day.  We argued any time I
drank with the guys, often after one of my baseball or hockey games.
I had to take out the garbage, make supper on weeknights, keep my room
clean, shovel the snow and cut the grass outside.  Mom did pretty much
all else about our home.

Yet, guys, it was the most incredible life I could have imagined.
Mother loved sex with me, she became a playful lust-filled petite sexy
woman and I learnt so much from being with her.  There is no other
woman, my age or older, that I can imagine being with, besides mom.
The soft curvy smooth pale skin - the way she sighs when I first sink
my penis into her ready vagina - the sparkle in her eye before we even
get undressed.  What girl my own age would dress in stockings and
garter belt and nothing else, dance before the roaring fireplace and
then suck me for nearly an hour, teasing me again and again to the
point that I begged for release?  What girl would have the experience,
the uninhibited nature, or just the desire to be wanton with the one
she loved.

I've listened to the guys on my teams talk about their conquests - a
fuck here, a blow job there - nothing even came close in comparison to
the pleasure that mom delivered.

I did not start out my new relationship with my feeling so
fantastically in love.  It started with a normal mom-son love that
turned sexual.  It was raw sex between us back in the beginning - our
coupling hard and fast... and loud.  We did it often two, three, times
a day.  We fucked in a multitude of positions and any time my dick got
hard - mom would take care of it.  I was rookie in the mysterious ways
of women - but found an able and anxious teacher in mom.  Nothing I
wanted to try was denied to me - even when it was the first for her as
well.

Time passed and we calmed down in our ravishing of each other so that
we were not so anxious to climax, not so anxious to join our bodies
with each other.  I fell in total and complete love for my mother - a
love a man should only hold for his wife.  Our sex became more
refined, rather than desperate, and we fornicated with slow
pleasure-filled movements.

Mom loved to kiss - dancing naked before the fireplace on a cold
winter night, or after an hour of sweaty pleasurable sex - our lips
found each other.  It was one of the most sensual things I could think
of between mother and I - our lips kissing not as a mother and child,
but as lovers.  It was always slow and passionate, it was always
patient and a little sloppy.  We kissed good morning this way, we
kissed as mom came home from work - no matter if either of us were in
a fowl mood or not, a kiss was never denied by either of us.

This is a good indication that mother was oral - that her lips, mouth
and tongue were an important part of her sexuality.  Mother absolutely
loved sucking my cock - loved kissing my naked body.  Many a night I
awoke to the pleasure of mom sucking my hard cock.  And she did not
suck me as a prelude for intercourse, or at least not often, but until
I finish into her hungry mouth.  She was ravenous for my sperm, never
missing a drop.  She drank it direct from my fountain or sometimes
scooping it out of herself with her fingers - mom could not get
enough.  It was the product of her oral delights and she revelled in
it.

Mother had a drawer full of lingerie - all purchased since we started
to have sex, specifically for me.  She loved that I loved her body -
visually devouring her with wonder and delight.  If there was a second
place, for what mom enjoyed doing together, it was for me to look on
her with that, now, familiar gaze of lust.  For this, she began to
take better care of her middle-aged body than ever before - she
dressed in sexy and revealing lingerie, she sought out ways for me to
visually experience her (like dancing naked before the fireplace).
Mother gets so hot, so wet, when she sees how passionate I'm getting
just by looking at her body.

Nudity, therefore, was common place in our home.  I was young, fit and
with a lean hard body - I rarely ever wore clothing at home.  Mother
had a long learnt modesty to overcome - and wore her normal sweats, or
shorts, and a loose tee-shirt during the days.  There were frequent
exceptions - her wearing only an apron, or or just thigh-high
stockings or perhaps a see-through nightie.  It was at night, after I
set aside my home work, that she let her sexuality loose and she
showed more flesh than at any other time of day.

You may think that this was all new to me and a rehashing of a
middle-aged woman's passion.  Well, you would be correct on my part.
For mom, though, much of what we did, what we experienced together was
the first time for her as well.  She had only dated a handful of guys
before marrying dad - and only had been intimate, in one method or
another, with two of those.  Then there was dad, demanding frequent
sex, but in a more traditional style - her on her back, in the dark
and grunting with pleasure.  Mom told me without shame that sucking my
cock was not a first time for her, but sucking the seed that came from
it was.  She also told me dressing the way she does, let alone about
our house, was also a first.  In fact there were so many things that
we did that she entered into the encounter as virginal as I.  At first
I was surprised that mom did not know everything there is to know
about sex - but then I realized that I liked sharing these firsts with
mom.

It all comes back to how difficult it is to live this life - this lie
to all those around us.

Mother had to fend off the hands and offers from guys of all ages at
work.

I had infrequent offers from girls my own age but was easily able to
ignore them.

The most difficult time for us, as lovers, was the weeks leading up my
high school graduation.

Having devoted myself to my studies - and not to girls my own age - I
had come in as one of the top of my class.  This gave me a scholarship
that allowed me to go to a good University that mom would never been
able to afford otherwise.  As mom put it, it was too good a chance to
pass up.  The problem being, was that it was over three hours drive
away.

Having signed on the dotted line for attending the University under a
scholarship before I realized that meant leaving my home town and
probably mom, I was surprised when mothers mood became fowl on a
regular basis.  She readily wanted to have sex, which was a rarity
when she was not in the best of moods, but there was an underlying
sadness about her when we coupled.  It got so bad that it was I that
did not want to have sex - as she often fought back tears as soon as
we lay saited.  Where was that playful sexy woman that loved life,
sex, and me?

Just a mere two weeks before my graduation mother and I had a blowout.
She was screaming and bawling all at the same time - while I defended
myself but, in reality, had no idea what we were fighting about.  Only
after she was weeping into her hands and with her body shaking did she
tell me that I had to leave her to go to University.

Up to that point I really never thought about it - and it came like a
blow to me.

A guy in University didn't have his mom tagging along - nor could my
excuse of not dating because my mom did not allow it work.  I told her
I would not go - she forbade me going that course, it was a fabulous
chance for my future that was at stake.  I told her that she could
come with me, we could live in a small apartment together as boyfriend
and his sexy older girlfriend - that sparked her interest for perhaps
ten second before she told me that other kids in University would be
from our town and would know us.

So the summer was a stressful and sad time between us.  We lost our
playful spark but sought out each other frequently - often holding,
kissing or just laying with my penis unmoving in her vagina.  She
drove me to the train station but refused to get out of the car -
kissing me passionately before I got my duffel bag out and she drove
off with tears rolling down her cheeks.

That should have been the end of it - our little affair complete, the
hard bodied willing girls from University a very great temptation.
Yet I came home, by train, each weekend.  Mother stayed chaste as well
- except for our weekends, where we tried to fit a weeks worth of pent
up lust into just under two days.  It was almost as raw as the first
months of our new relationship yet there was something desperate
beneath the surface, a sadness.

It was no help that dad was prancing around town with his young
big-titted new wife and their new daughter during this time - mom felt
more alone in that big old house than ever before.  Her only salvation
was our weekends.

I grew older, and wiser I should think.  I realized the impossibility
of what mother and I had for each other.  Realizing she had known this
from the beginning, had been forced to face it when I accepted the
scholarship.

Mother grew older as well, even taking less effort to keep in physical
shape as she had. Our weekends were often so rushed that it left
little time for slow erotic dances, or her exhibitionist ways of
tantalizing me.  She gained weight - not a huge amount, but enough to
round our her petite frame.  The stresses of her life began to show
upon her face now - her age becoming more apparent to me as the years
of University drew to a close.

By the time I graduated from University, mother looked as old as she
felt, and that spark within her was gone.  It was the weekend after my
graduation that we lay in bed, after another round of hungry and
desperate fucking that I told her how I felt.  That she was getting
older, that I was also getting older - that we could not go on the way
we have.  Mother, contrary to how I thought she would take it, just
sat up on her elbow and looked down at me - as if she knew this
conversation was coming.

Then I told her what I wanted, asking her to give up her life to
follow my new blossoming career all the way across the country.  The
seconds turned to minutes and I wondered if mother had heard me - if
she was disgusted at my request that she give up everything to follow
me, she was the parent after all.  But suddenly she lunged down her
her face, her lips seeking mine and it was like we had not even kissed
since before I left high school.

No one would know that we are mother and son - just a May November
romance - we lived openly as partners in our new home and we were
readily accepted by either of our peers, new friends and neighbours.
Mother's heart again lifted and she became the happy little girls
seeking pleasure with her lover, me.  I on the other hand found a
woman that gave up everything for me, whom only considered how to
please me as her goal in life.

The difficult part of our lives are over - the best part is just
beginning.

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