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. --