Subject: I Was My Mom's Lover (true story) From: an424836 <an424836@anon.penet.fi> Date: 1996/07/21 Newsgroups: alt.sex.incest I Was My Mom's Lover (a true story) by Teddybear This story took place several years ago when I was of the tender age of fifteen. I swear that although I've used some poetic license to "entertain the reader" (ahem) the events described are absolutely true.I have had conflicting feelings of guilt and nostalgia ever since these events took place, and it has helped immensely reading these newsgroups and finding that others have had similar experiences and that I am not so much a freak as I thought. Maybe this tale can help others in a similar position. I would be delighted to see comments, especially from Moms and others who have had similar experiences. The story doesn't end here. The episode which would change my life irrevocably (and I believe sincerely, for the better) started one Wednesday afternoon when I was taken ill at school with abdominal pain and vomitting. It proved later to be only transient, but resulted in my being sent home from school half way through the afternoon. My mom's job as a pharmacist in a store meant that she usually arrived home considerably later than me, and I let myself into the house using my key. As a rule I also met my nine-year old sister from school and prepared us a snack til Mom got in about 5.30 or so. This had been the norm since my father had died suddenly eighteen months previously. Although we weren't poor, his insurance hadn't allowed us to wallow in luxury, either. Anyway, I knew my mother enjoyed her work in that it allowed her to come into contact with people outside the immediate family.What I had forgotten, however, was that she worked only half a day on Wednesdays... Feeling the need to pee, I headed straight to the bathroom, but as I reached the landing, I stopped short as I heard some unusual, slightly muffled noises coming from my mom's room just down the hall. Some instinct told me to be cautious and I silently approached the bedroom door. Fortunately the carpet was thick and absorbed the sound of my footsteps. The door was slightly ajar and as I peeped through the gap I could see into the mirrored wardrobes on the far wall. It was immediately clear what was making the noise. There, imaged perfectly in the mirror, and lying almost naked on the bed, her torso supported by two or three pillows, was my mother. The position of the mirror meant that I was looking directly up at her from below and could see her feet, legs and genitals.Her position suggested she was observing her own actions. She was wearing only a pair of very sheer, expensive-looking stockings and a suspender belt, and it was obvious even to me, a rather naive fifteen-year-old what she was doing. Her right hand was resting on her pubic mound and the middle finger was making rhythmic circular movements at the top of her clearly visible cunt. I was surprised to see how red and luxuriant was her pubic hair. Her left hand, meanwhile, was slowly exploring the rest of her exposed body, stroking her thighs, lower abdomen and buttocks. As I watched, stunned, her left hand travelled up her abdomen and cupped her right breast, gently kneading the soft, milky flesh and pinching, then rolling the nipple between finger and thumb, which from her vocalisation she greatly enjoyed. This left hand seemed to me almost to have a mind of its own, as if another person were caressing her with it. She had her eyes tight closed at this point, preoccupied with her own fantasies, or else it is certain she would have seen me. She was emitting tiny groans of pleasure in time with her slow right hand movements as she wanked herself. I became aware of a musky,familiar yet unfamiliar scent in the room, and a delicious chill went through me as I realised I could smell my own mother's pussy juices as she stimulated herself. My cock began to harden rapidly as this occurred to me. I had the sense to shift position slightly into the hall shadow so that although I could still see most of her body, I was less visible from her angle and I could hopefully stay undiscovered. I stared like some small animal hypnotised by a snake. This was my mother I was watching, doing something I had massive guilt trips about indulging in myself-and not only did she seem to be enjoying it, but from the deft way she stroked her clit she was obviously well practised. I simply couldn't tear my eyes from her moistened slit, and not only that but I began to feel a terrible urge to take out my by now rock hard penis and wank in synchrony with her. I pushed this shameful thought aside with some difficulty, but my arousal grew second by second. As I stood open mouthed, my mother's hand movements gradually accelerated in proportion to her lust.She began to squeeze her breast harder, crushing it against her chest wall and pinching the large pink nipple.She licked her fingers and used the saliva as a lubricant to stimulate the erect teat. Her hips began to lift off the bed slightly,thrusting rhythmically as she moved that middle finger faster, and its motion changed from a circling to a rubbing, flicking. With her left hand she reached under her buttocks and used two fingers to hold her cunt lips apart, exposing her clitoris more, the pink glistening flesh of her hole open wide for me to admire. Her breathing was becoming faster, more ragged, and the soft groans and moans she was making began to take on an urgency. She began to whisper to herself, words I couldn't hear, but from the squirming of her body they were bringing her to a new level of arousal. By this time my legs were trembling so much I thought I wouldn't be able to stand, and my cock felt as if I were in serious danger of spontaneously coming in my pants. I was desperately trying to keep my breathing under control for fear of being overheard. Looking back on it, though, there wasn't much chance of that - Mom was clearly in a world of her own at this point. She was gasping for breath now, and with each exhalation making a little whimpering noise as she rubbed her clit in her desperate need for release. Her pelvis was rocking back and forth,and still she held her puffy vulval lips open to my view as she continued to spread them with her other hand, the fingers of which I could clearly see were soaked with her juices. Ahh Ahh Ahh AHH AAHHH AAAHHHH !!! - suddenly she began a rapid gasping crescendo and at the same time she slid the middle finger of her left hand into her soaking cunt hole - still frigging her clit with the other hand. I could see her pistoning finger glistening with wetness and she thrust her pelvis upwards in a series of shuddering jerks as she climaxed. There was an unbelievably stimulating new sound now - I could hear the wet, regular plunging of her finger in and out of that most forbidden of places as her orgasm reached its peak. The muscles of her legs were taut and straining beneath the sheer material of her stockings for a while, then as her ecstasy ebbed she slowly relaxed and lay back limply on the bed. How I didn't ejaculate at the height of her orgasm I really don't know, but I had never been so sexually excited in my life - not even my most stimulating fantasies came close to this experience. Somehow I managed to creep back out the way I entered, while I could hear Mom's breathing subsiding to normal behind me. I made my way to the local shopping mall and immediately went to the public toilet and jerked off in a cubicle. My penis was already moist with pre-cum and it took me only a few strokes to shoot the rest of my wad, my eyes closed, replaying the deliciously wicked secret peep show to which I had been treated. After my immediate need for sexual release had been satisfied, however, a wave of powerful and conflicting emotions overtook me. Mostly I felt sordid and guilty. I had spied on my own mother in the most private and intimate of acts, then to compound the crime I had wanked off whilst fantasising about her. I had never consciously looked at my mom in a sexual light but now all of a sudden she was the first live woman I had seen performing any sort of intimate act. Of course I kept some mildly pornographic literature and pictures hidden away and masturbated to these regularly, but at that age I was quite shy with girls, having had only three dates and no experience of serious necking, even. Although I had heard that women masturbate, I don't think I quite believed it or understood the technique. Another shock was how physically good looking my mother was. The job she had meant that she was always neat and nicely made-up, but today it occurred to me that she was actually a very attractive woman. At the age of thirty-seven she remained slim and could pass for several years younger. She had a neat trim figure with smallish, nicely-shaped breasts, a firm behind and slim, long legs. She wore spectacles as a rule, but she was one of those women who suited them, and always chose flattering frames, so that it has always seemed to me that she was better looking wearing them than without. But her best feature was her hair, which was thick, lustrous and a beautiful dark copper-auburn colour, which she wore shoulder length, or at work, in a pony tail or bun. I felt bound, in my present state of mind, to compare her naked form to the models in the glossy mags tucked in my secret stash, and to my mild surprise she was in no way less tempting. I knew for a fact that she had been asked out on dates after my father's death, but had always refused. His illness had been very traumatic, and I don't think she had yet recovered from the stress of it. All these thoughts and more raced around in my brain like angry bees, and I wandered the mall for an hour or so almost in a daze. It didn't help my mood that every passer-by seemed to stare at me as if sensing what I had been doing. The time came to collect my sister from her school, and I did so as usual. At every step towards home I became more reluctant to go further. What if my mom had seen me after all? What if she had been in contact with school in my absence? What if she had drifted off to sleep in her naked state and were still there now? However, on the basis that there was really no other place to go, I let us both in. To my overwhelming relief, my mom was in the kitchen with a cup of tea and reading the newspaper. She seemed happy and chirpy, and acted towards me in a perfectly normal mother-son manner. It struck me immediately what a gorgeous woman she was when viewed objectively. She did ask me that evening if I was feeling O.K.- possibly something in my manner alerted her - but I told her about my illness at school, and this seemed an acceptable explanation. That night in bed I lay awake for ages wrestling with my feelings and eventually had to masturbate again before I could sleep. Over the days and weeks which followed I couldn't get the memory of that day out of my mind, and I became gradually obsessed with my mother. I began staying awake into the early morning, creeping along the passage and listening outside her room for those same delicious noises which had sparked this. I went through her underwear drawers, imagining stroking the silky material with her lovely flesh underneath, especially those dark sensual stockings. I even - God help me - took soiled panties out of the laundry, held them over my face and inhaled that beautiful, cock-hardening smell of her womanhood. Of course at least once a day I would have to rerun the mental tape I had of her frigging herself off to that shuddering climax and each time I would spurt my seed in an equally intense orgasm as I imagined what that gorgeous glistening wet pussy would feel like grasping my prick as she thrust and spasmed against me. My mother sensed something was wrong and asked several times what was troubling me, and although it was on the tip of my tongue to confess I never quite had the courage. Eventually my nocturnal vigils were rewarded. One night about a month after my first revelation, I crept silently along to my mother's bedroom door. This time the door was almost shut, and although our house was never really dark I couldn't see inside at all but I literally almost fainted when I heard a rhythmical rustling and rapid heavy breathing. I was naked and immediately began to stroke my erect tool as I imagined my mother's fingers stroking that gorgeous glistening slit, cupping those milky boobs. Slowly, the pace of the movements inside the room increased, and there was an occasional soft moan, but muffled, and it seemed as if mom was restraining herself, trying to keep quiet - probably in order not to wake her two children. Somehow - possibly because I was cold - possibly because of guilt - I could not stimulate myself to ejaculation, and I found that I was getting a bit sore. However, as I heard the breathing beyond the door quicken I was mentally bursting with desire. Mom was obviously getting close now, and when there came that same wet squelching sound whose source I had fantasised about so much lately I knew I could stand outside no longer. As silently as I could, I pushed open the door and slipped into the room. Mom froze instantly when I entered. She straightened her legs (which had been bent at the knees and wide open beneath the sheets) and tried to speak in a normal voice as she looked at me. But she was breathing fast as though she had been running hard. "Jim, is that you? What's wrong.?" I couldn't reply as I approached the bed. My heart felt as if it would pound out of my chest. I slid quickly between the sheets and snuggled close to her, my erect penis pressing into her upper thigh. As our naked flesh touched, a feeling as if I had been electrocuted passed through me. Mom for her part stiffened and gasped with surprise and shock. She was so stunned by my appearance she could not react to what I did next. I could barely speak, or think, but I blurted out " I love you, Mom," in a thick, barely audible whisper. Trembling hard, I slid my hand over my mother's soft warm flank and across her lower abdomen, through her thick wiry brush, and put the flat of my fingers against those deliciously warm, moist, delicate folds of her pussy lips. This caused an immediate response from my mother, who had clearly been on the very edge of orgasm as I entered the room. She immediately clamped her hand on top of mine and pressed hard against her. "Jim, no! Don't... no... Ohhhhhhhhhhhh!" Her hips twitched spastically against my hand as she went over the edge and came despite her protest.Her cunt lips pulsed against my fingers six or eight times and there was a distinct increase in that beautiful wet slickness as her love juices flowed over my fingers. In the half light I could see her biting her lip to stay silent as the waves of passion coursed through her. As her spasms ceased she roughly thrust my hand away, and there was real anger in her voice as she said, "Jim, get out! That was a terrible thing to do! Get away! Go back to bed!" She was almost in tears. Never in all my wildest dreams had I expected this reaction. My fantasies always involved my mother reciprocating my passion. Instead she was filled with disgust. I tried half-heartedly to explain but she wasn't listening, getting more and more furious until I fled, confused, back to my bedroom. I lay awake almost all night, berating myself in my shame and guilt. My dreams of sexual intimacy with my mother were in ashes. Worse, I was scared stiff she would be forced to report me to some official agency. For the first time since my father died I cried myself to sleep. Next morning, I descended to the kitchen with dread. Mom was already up and from the redness around her eyes she apparently hadn't slept much either. I was too ashamed to speak, and the cold, tight- lipped look she shot at me made me feel like a worm. Breakfast was spent in silence, as I avoided her eyes and stared into my cereals. Eventually my mother broke the silence. "Jim, what were you thinking of last night? You must know that that sort of thing is terribly wrong.You... you've embarrassed me so much... I feel so ashamed... She was again on the verge of tears, and as her face crumpled I came over and gave her a hug, though she kept her hands over her eyes, not reciprocating my gesture. "I'm sorry, Mom.It was all my fault. I promise it'll never happen again," I mumbled. "O.K," she said, wiping her eyes. "The incident is closed. It never happened, understand?" I nodded. True to her word, over the subsequent days Mom never mentioned that night, and I thought for a time that maybe that really was the end of the matter. But gradually, over the next few weeks, things happened to make me think differently. First of all after a spell of being "good" I began again to fantasise about making love to my mom.This was despite feeling ashamed of myself, and consumed with guilt each time this happened. Eventually I was beating myself off every night once more, each time in my imagination coming simultaneously with my mother as she gasped in passion beneath me. Secondly, there was a subtle but definite change in Mom's attitude to me. I occasionally caught her looking at me a little oddly - in a sort of appraising way, to my mind. She would quickly look away when she saw that I had noticed, and maybe even blushed a time or two. At first I told myself that it was all in my own fevered imagination, but there slowly developed a definite sexual tension between us which increased with time. If we touched, for instance, there was a frisson which I began to recognise we could both feel. Mom began to come out from the bath or shower, or even just down to breakfast sometimes wearing only a flimsy bathrobe or nightie. This was unheard of, even when my dad was alive, and it was particularly disturbing in the evening after my little sister was in bed when we might sit watching T.V. til late. I would be acutely aware of Mom's long, lovely legs protruding from beneath these hardly adequate items of clothing, the hem or edge of which would only just cover her pubes. Often, I would steal a hungry look in her direction to try to catch a glimpse of naked thigh or the swell of her barely concealed breast. On such occasions she would never meet my eye, but study the T.V. or some book intently, but she would begin to flush, and I came to know in my heart of hearts that she was aware of the effect this was having on me. Because of my previous experience however, I could never bring the matter out in the open and speak to Mom about it. About three months after my original disastrous escapade, and just before Christmas, my mom went out with her colleagues at work for a seasonal party, planning to first have a meal, then on to a night club. As usual on such occasions (which were rare at that time) I was expected to babysit. I didn't object to this because it was only occasionally that I could have a good wanking session without fear of being disturbed. Unfortunately my sister was particularly fractious that night, and was late settling down to sleep. Eventually, though, I got out my favourite soft porn glossies, got myself comfortable beside the fire, and began to leaf through them. The stories and letters always got me much hotter than the pictures, and I greedily read through some of these items, the graphic descriptions of sex acts feeding my lust as I took my hardening cock from my pants. Slowly I stroked myself in the time honoured manner and I felt my hormones start to stir in response to the stimulation of my penis. I was well on the way to a satisfying ejaculation when suddenly I heard a key in the lock. In a flat panic, I stuffed my rigid cock back into my trousers, zipped my fly and stuffed the magazines beneath the dashion of a chair. Fortunately I had left the T.V. on and I hastily sat in the armchair and pretended to be engrossed in the news. No sooner had I sat down than in came Mom. taking off her coat as she entered. "What are you doing back so early?" I asked, trying to sound disinterested. " I thought you were partying." Mom shook her head. "No, I decided not to go on to the club. The evening was a bit of a flop, really." She paused, and gave me a searching look. She had noticed something strained in my manner, and I very clearly saw the penny drop as her eyes flickered to my crotch and then quickly away in embarrassment. We both reddened. She knew I knew she knew... There was silence while we both groped for something innocuous to say. I got to my feet. "I was just going to make some hot chocolate then go to bed," I stammered. "Would you like some?" She clutched at this straw gratefully. "Yes, that would be lovely." She could not look me in the face. I fled to the kitchen, cursing myself for a fool,and wondering how I would ever get over this mortification. But there was more of the same to come, because when I returned to the living room, to my horror Mom was sitting reading one of the mags I had hurriedly stashed beneath the chair. I stood rooted to the spot, two cups of chocolate in my hands. "Do you often read these things?" she asked in a quiet voice, looking up at me. "Er, no, not really. Jason loaned it to me. It's his really. I only borrowed it out of curiosity." We both knew differently. Mom gave me another quizzical, slightly amused look. There was no way she was buying that story. She sat in silence, leafing slowly through the pages while I gulped down my drink. When I had finished, I made an excuse of being tired and retreated to bed. Mom simply nodded as I left, still slowly turning the pages. I lay awake for an hour or so, desperately seeking a way out of the hole I had dug myself into, then drifted off to sleep. The next thing I knew, I was disturbed by something softly brushing across my chest. Instantly I was wide awake as I saw and felt my mother climbing into my bed, completely naked, straddling my body as I lay on my back.The yellow street light outside my window displayed her lovely face and figure clearly as she lay down on top of me, leaning forward, her gorgeous tits now pressing against my chest. She covered my mouth with her lips and kissed me, at first gently, but then gradually harder.She inserted her tongue between my lips, into my mouth, licking and flicking it against mine, exploring and probing. I could feel the heat coming from her as if she had an internal fire burning and that beautiful sexy scent of her aroused cunt pervaded the air.My cock stiffened rapidly as I realised what was happening. She pulled away slightly and I could feel her trembling against me, partly with nervousness, partly with desire. I guessed she had already given herself a head start with those clever fingers before awakening me. She began rubbing her wet vulva up and down my thigh. I opened my mouth to speak, but quickly she put her index finger over my lips. Her voice was a nervous, hoarse whisper. "Sshh honey... just you lie quietly. Mommy just wants to borrow something for a while. This here is what I want. You don't mind if I borrow your penis for a few minutes, do you, Jimmy?... Please?... " In my astonishment I shook my head, but the question was meant rhetorically. Mom had already grasped my rock hard member, deftly placed it against her sopping cunt lips, and with a deep shuddering moan, sunk down upon it to its full length. She was now lying with her full weight on top of me and we hugged each other close. Nothing in my fevered imaginings prepared me for this sensation as I felt my cock buried for the first time in a woman's innermost place. That warm, wet, beautiful slickness was wrapped around me, gripping my whole shaft, and I felt a surge of indescribable love for this woman whom I had known all my life, yet not really known at all. Mom had her eyes closed, with a look of utter bliss on her face.She was breathing hard through moist parted lips, obviously relishing the feeling of my cock deep inside her as much as I was. She lay perfectly still for perhaps thirty seconds in this way, then she raised herself up, supporting her upper body on her hands as she began to move slowly, slowly up and down upon me. I could feel her gorgeous cunt sliding along the length of my shaft as she raised herself to the point where it almost slipped out, then sank down on it again til our pubes met and she had the whole thing inside her once more. Her head was bowed, that beautiful mane of coppery hair cascading forward, her eyes closed, concentrating on maximising her own and my pleasure as she moved my bursting cock in and out of her love tunnel. Her sweet, perfectly shaped breasts were swaying above my chest, jiggling with her to and fro motion, and I ached to cup them, suckle on those hard, inviting nipples, but I dared not break the mood. She began talking while she rode my cock in this fashion, her words breathy gasps, half to herself, synchronised with the rising and falling of her pelvis. "Ohh, Jim,that feels so good... You have no idea... That is so lovely... You wanted this too, didn't you honey?... Mmmmmmmmmm... Feel good for you too,baby?... Mommy's pussy feel nice?... Is she wet enough for you?... That was it! I couldn't stand any more of that. My cock had felt as if it would explode right from the start, and at these words I came in torrents. White hot pulsations of bliss washed over me as I shot my semen deep into my mother's eagerly receptive cunt hole.Spurt after spurt I felt burst from me until I thought I would never stop coming. Never had I had such an intense orgasm. I thrust upwards into my mothers grasping vagina in my ecstasy, every muscle in my body straining, and involuntarily groaned aloud, pumping and pumping as I drained myself dry. Feeling me shooting my sperm into her depths, my mother began to lose control. Her pelvic thrusts became more rapid, her greedy cunt gripping and milking me, demanding more.Our combined juices seeped out around my shaft as she rode it harder and faster, driving my still hard tool deep inside herself, using my penis to bring her towards her own release, which I sensed was very close. Oh, baby... now you've done it!... look at what... you've done to me... can't stop now... oooohhhh!... stay hard for me, baby... stay hard... just a minute more... let me come... all over... that lovely... cock... oooohhhh!... feels so good... let me have... that... hard cock... please... oooohhhh!... feel it... starting... baby?... feel it?... oh, Jim!... get it up me!!... ohmigod!... ohmigod!... aaaahhhh!... I'm... coming... now... I'M COMINNNNNG!!! Again her pelvic movements changed as I felt her release overtake her and her hungry vaginal muscles gripped my now softening shaft in wave after rippling wave. She ground her pubic mound hard against mine and rubbed rapidly up and down against it, stimulating her clitoris and taking her completely over the edge. I could feel her pubic hair scratching against me to this frantic spastic rhythm. It felt as though her pussy was literally eating, gobbling my penis. Eventually the spasms of delight subsided and she sank down, breathless and bathed in sweat, against my chest. My penis was soft, but still lay in that lovely warm haven of her vagina while our breathing and heartbeats slowed. Mom rolled off me after a little while and we lay snuggled together. She began trembling violently, and suddenly I became aware that she was sobbing. "Oh, Jim I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry... I didn't mean to do that... It's been so long since your Dad... I'm so sorry... " Horrified, I tried to console her. I held her close, told her that I had wanted her as much as she had wanted me. I blurted out the whole story of how I had come home early that day, and how I had been longing for her ever since. At my confession her tears slowed and stopped, and as I finished, Mom held my face between her two hands, looked hard into my eyes for several seconds then kissed my face in little pecks all over. Soon we found each others' lips and hungrily tongued each other once more. Then suddenly I was back inside her,lying side by side, and we were thrusting at each other like wild animals, grunting, whimpering and moaning, desperate in our need for orgasm. There was a wet slap-slapping noise as I pounded at her and she at me until in a quivering heap, we came again, clutching tight to one another til the wave swept over and we were quiet once more. We were both exhausted, and I slipped quickly into a sound sleep. When I awoke Mom had already left the bed. Her smell was on me and I luxuriated in it for a little while before I too got up. I was very nervous of her reaction to the previous night, but the instant I saw her my fears were put to rest. She was bouncier and chirpier than she had been in a long time, and though not a word was spoken about our escapade, her conspiratorial smile and lingering glance into my eyes told me all I needed to know. That day I walked on air. I was filled with a deep love, and happier than I had ever been. I was also filled with anticipation for what might happen that night...