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o                                                     o
o The Bookshelf Directories offer a very wide variety o
o of stories. They have been submitted by people from o
o all over the world. Also from alt.sex.stories (News o
o groups). There is no particular order other than    o
o offering them to you in alphabetical directories.   o
o                                                     o
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o be used for profit without obtaining the author's   o
o permission in advance.                              o
o                                                     o
o Lest we forget!!! This story was produced as adult  o
o entertainment and should not be read by minors.     o
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o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

Mom Helps Out
by Ren Dhark (mar4uder@adam.com.au)

***

A son becomes aware of his mother's sexuality. Mom 
notices, and fights her rising urges. In the end, they 
make each other happy. (Fb, pre-teen, ped, inc, 1st, 
mast, oral)

***

I guess, it all started the day my mother was sitting at 
the kitchen-table, wearing nothing but her bathrobe. She 
was sitting side-on to the table, had her legs crossed, 
and was showing most of one thigh.

I had never thought of mom as a 'woman' before, but now 
I felt hot and my pecker got instantly hard. 

Mom looked up, and I quickly opened the fridge, 
pretending to look for something.

I found a bottle of juice, but had a slight problem now. 
My pecker had made a noticeable bulge in my shorts and I 
knew, mom couldn't help but notice if I turned around.

So I took a swig from the juice, quickly returned the 
bottle, closed the door, and sort of sidled out of the 
room.

"Must you drink from the bottle!" Mom sounded annoyed. I 
just mumbled something unintelligible, and rushed 
upstairs to my room, where I threw myself on the bed, 
closed my eyes and wallowed in the image of mom's 
luscious thigh.

Before long, I had my pecker out and was jerking off, 
while imagining my hands caressing mom's thigh. All too 
soon I came, but felt no relief. I just could not stop 
thinking about mom.

Five (frustrating) days later, my parents were getting 
ready to go out. Dad was already downstairs waiting, but 
mom was still sitting in front of her dresser, getting 
ready. I stood in the doorway and drank my fill. Tight 
jumper, white woollen skirt, nylons and gold, strappy 
heels.

She had her legs crossed again and her skirt had ridden 
up, so I could see the top of her nylons, and maybe an 
inch of skin. I couldn't tear my eyes away.

In the mirror, I could see Timmy standing in the 
doorway. He was obviously looking at my legs. The 
question was - how do I handle this? Pretend I don't 
notice? Ask him, if he likes what he sees? Tell him to 
go away?

The problem solved itself when I heard Peter yell at me 
to get a move on. Timmy jumped and quickly disappeared 
around the corner. Boys! Biology is a cruel mistress! 
But I kept thinking about the look on his face - if only 
Peter still looked at me like that.

It was a bad night for me. After they left, I was too 
restless to do anything. I couldn't even concentrate on 
TV. How had I not noticed before, just how sexy mom's 
legs were? I just wanted to sit at her feet and kiss 
them for hours.

The next day - after a very long night, with not enough 
sleep - I woke up late. Mom and dad had already left and 
I had an idea.

I dashed into the laundry and frantically looked through 
the basket. There - mom's knickers - but not what I was 
looking for. Still, I opened them up - looked at the 
stain - and took a little sniff. 

WOW! Mom's scent hit me like nothing before, I breathed 
deeply again and again, then I went into their bedroom.

I saw what I was looking for immediately. Grabbing the 
nylons, mom had worn last night, I retreated to my 
bedroom, stripped and flopped myself on the bed.

I took a sniff of mom's nylons. Nice - very nice - but 
not as good as her knickers. So I started rubbing them 
all over my pecker, whilst breathing her undies. The 
feel of nylon on my throbbing pecker was divine, and it 
didn't take me long to cum. I was careful, not to get 
anything on the nylons, and hung them back over mom's 
chair, where I'd found them. After taking a last few 
deep breaths from mom's undies, I returned them as well.

Man - my mom smells HOT!

When we returned, I debated with myself whether I should 
wash a load of whites, or Timmy's sheets - which I had 
been putting off. Reluctantly, I decided on the sheets.
I walked into his room, and started stripping the bed. 
And then it hit me.

His sheets positively reeked of sex! What has the boy 
been up to lately! 

I carried the load downstairs, but - before stuffing 
everything in the machine - I impulsively buried my face 
in his sheet and took a deep breath.

Then I scolded myself for being so disgusting.


Over the last few weeks, I've been sniffing mom's 
panties every chance I get. Most mornings, there is 
hardly any smell at all. But occasionally they smell so 
strong, I almost cum without touching myself. 

Mom and dad went to bed early. I fished her panties out 
of the hamper and took a sniff. As I'd hoped, they 
smelled very strong today. Not wanting to risk waking 
anyone by traipsing up and down the stairs, I sat on the 
sofa - dropped my shorts - and started jacking off, 
while sniffing mom's panties.

Peter finished all too quickly and rolled over. I knew, 
I wouldn't be able to get to sleep for a while, so I 
decided to watch some TV. Barefoot, I padded downstairs, 
through the kitchen, and was about to enter the living-
room when I stopped dead.

It took me a moment to take in what I was looking at. 

Timmy was sitting on the sofa - his shorts around his 
ankles - and clearly masturbating while holding 
something to his face. It didn't take me long to realise 
that he was holding my panties, but my attention was 
elsewhere: specifically on what I could see of his penis 
sliding in and out of his fist. 

He stopped to adjust my panties, and - for a moment - I 
could get a good look at it.

Not very long - just right for his age, I guess - 
straight, with a largish, beautiful head. 

Shocked - I realised that I was salivating and fled back 
upstairs.


It was about a week after the night I wanked myself on 
the sofa. Mom must have changed her system, because I 
haven't found any of her underwear in the wash. So - 
while jacking off - I've been imagining what mom's real 
pussy-juices must smell like. What I wouldn't give for 
just one taste!

Dad's out. Mom's upstairs. And I'm watching TV. 

Mom comes downstairs, wearing a see-through top and no 
bra, a short, tight skirt, black nylons, and low heels.

I can already feel my pecker getting hard and try to 
hide the bulge. Mom sits next to me and says: "You don't 
mind if I stretch out, do you? My legs are a bit sore."

While I'm still trying to remember simple words, mom 
lies back and places her legs in my lap.

What AM I doing!? No matter how hard I try to distract 
myself, I can't stop having naughty thoughts about 
Timmy. There it is again - as soon as I thought "hard" 
the image of his beautiful penis popped into my mind. 
And then I imagine touching it - stroking it - licking 
it - STOPIT!

It's clear to me, that Timmy's hormones are raging. The 
poor boy must be desperate for relief. I know how it 
feels when Peter is finished too quickly, leaving me 
frustrated. Timmy is going through that all day - every 
day. Maybe I can help him - without crossing the line? 

And today, I could not think of any reason not to. Peter 
would be out all day. Timmy was watching TV. And I would 
most likely sit with him, and leaf through some 
magazines. Where is the harm in trying to make the day a 
little bit more entertaining for both of us?

I slipped into a clean pair of panties. (Non see-
through, of course - I'm not a pervert, after all.) 
Pulled on a black pair of stay-ups. Chose a tight, black 
skirt, and then agonised over which top to wear. What 
the heck, I thought, he sees more than this on TV; and 
chose a white top, which was see-through enough to show 
my areolas.

A bit of make-up and - before I could change my mind - I 
clattered downstairs. 

Timmy looked up, when I came around the corner, flushed, 
and tried to look everywhere but at me. I sat on the 
sofa, and was about to lose my nerve, when - out of the 
corner of my eye - I saw him trying to hide the bulge in 
his pants. "You don't mind if I stretch out, do you? My 
legs are a bit sore."

With that, I unceremoniously dropped my legs in his lap 
and closed my eyes.

My heart was pounding - my mouth was dry - and my 
nipples were uncomfortably hard. But I gradually calmed 
down by telling myself that it was all completely 
innocent. I could get up at any time and walk away as if 
nothing had happened. Which it hadn't.

Once I was relaxed enough, I opened my eyes and became 
aware of my situation.

Timmy was sitting ram-rod straight, with his hands next 
to him on the sofa. My calves were in his lap, and I 
could clearly feel his hard-on. When I lay down, my 
skirt had hitched up to the top of my stockings. I knew 
he would have a clear view of my panties, if he dared to 
look. But the poor boy seemed petrified.

"Timmy? I don't suppose you could do your old mom a 
little favour?" 

*mumble*

"My feet are aching a bit, would you mind taking my 
shoes off, and giving them a little rub?"

I couldn't believe my luck! Mom hadn't noticed my boner, 
and now I got to touch her feet! I hadn't dared move or 
look at her, since she sat down. I knew, I wouldn't be 
able to control my eager eyes. And so I kept staring at 
the TV. But now I had a hall-pass!

I gingerly held mom's ankle while slipping off her shoe. 
Then I did the same with the other one, but I left my 
hand lightly resting on her ankle.

With my left hand, I touched the sole of her foot and 
then softly began stroking it. Gaining confidence, I 
also stroked the top of her foot and massaged her toes.

Well - I had asked for a foot-massage, but what I was 
getting was something else. He was caressing my feet! 
There is no other word to describe it. His touch was 
soft, sensual, loving. At first hesitant, as he gained 
confidence his touch became firmer. He moved from foot 
to foot, and it was just heavenly. Which is probably why 
I didn't notice his right hand at first.

It was resting on my ankle, but then started stroking my 
leg. Little by little, his strokes reached higher and 
higher, until his hand reached my knee. Under my calf - 
where it rested on his hard bulge - I felt something wet 
and sticky. It was time to put a stop to this! I opened 
my eyes, and caught him looking up my skirt.

I could just stroke mom's legs and feet forever. I just 
loved the feel of the nylons. I dared to peek out of the 
corner of my eye, and saw that mom's eyes were closed. 
Now I could finally get a good look! Mom's breasts were 
clearly visible, her nipples dark underneath the fabric. 
I wondered, what it would feel like to touch them. I 
could see mom's knickers, and there was a bit of a 
shadow in front. Was she leaking, like I always do? Oh 
boy! I want her so bad! I want to lift up her leg and 
kiss her foot, I want to...crap - she's looking!

Seeing Timmy look so hungrily at my crotch, finally hit 
me with what I  was doing. I was seducing my own little 
boy! Hurriedly, I stood up, picked up my shoes, and 
rushed upstairs.

Mom got up so suddenly, I thought, she was going to hit 
me. Instead, she bent to pick up her shoes - giving me a 
last look at her panties - and went upstairs - leaving 
me with a boner in urgent need of attention. I rushed to 
the toilet, and - while I jacked off, I imagined mom's 
nylon-clad feet rubbing my pecker.


I couldn't get the feel of mom's nylon-clad feet and 
legs out of my mind. It was driving me crazy! Mom was 
acting, as if nothing had happened, and I guess she 
didn't realise what an effect she had on me. The other 
day, she was sitting next to me on the sofa, and I 
really badly wanted to put my hand on her leg, but 
didn't dare.

Mom and dad are out, so I went through mom's drawers 
until I found her nylons. I took a pair of pantyhose 
into my bedroom, and - after a struggle - put them on. 
Then I closed my eyes and touched my legs and feet - 
imagining, I was touching mom's. I started rubbing my 
pecker through the nylon and it felt really good. Too 
good. I almost came into mom's pantyhose, but just 
managed to pull them down, before I erupted. But there 
was a large, sticky patch from where I had been leaking. 
I hope she doesn't notice.

I can't help myself anymore, I want - no I NEED - more! 
I lie in bed next to Peter, and yearn for the feel of 
Timmy's soft hands on my legs and feet. I want him 
playing with my breasts, and I want to drown him in my 
cunt-juices. Am I going crazy?

I'd just had a shower and was lying on the bed, with 
only a towel around me. I was wondering idly whether I 
should go out now, or wait until the afternoon, when the 
bedroom-door opened. 

"Maaaa! You didn't knock!"

"Oh, sorry hun, I didn't think."

I was in a panic, not sure if the towel was covering the 
important bits - too scared to move, in case it opened 
more. 

Mom was wearing a simple dress, black with small blue 
and white flowers around the hem and neckline. I could 
just see the top of her breasts. The dress almost 
covered her knees; and she was wearing tan nylons, which 
ended in low heels, which exposed all her foot, except 
for a thin strap across the toes, and an even thinner 
one around her ankles. 

At which point I realised, I'd better look elsewhere!

Mom sat on the bed next to me, but facing away. I didn't 
know, if I should be relieved or disappointed. On the 
one hand, I had hoped to get a peek up her dress. On the 
other hand, I was terrified, what that would do to the 
towel. I consoled myself, by staring at mom's knee - 
which I could just see - and imaging my hand stroking 
it.

If I hadn't been so distracted, I would have noticed 
that something was on mom's mind. She doesn't usually 
make pointless chatter about things like school, my 
favourite music, and other stuff I barely heard. I tried 
to answer something intelligent at all the right places, 
but was more interested in imaging my hand sliding up 
mom's dress, and not finding any panties.

So I am imagining away. And mom is babbling on. When she 
casually rests her hand on my thigh. It was like being 
electrocuted. This flash of - something - went right 
through me, and I flinched. Mom was still talking, and 
hadn't noticed. And her hand felt as if it was burning 
my thigh.

I don't even know what I was saying. I'm sure, Timmy 
thought, his old mom had finally gone over the edge. And 
I guess, I have. I stormed into his room, like a 
Gestapo-raid. I knew that, if I stopped outside to 
gather my courage, I would never go in. As I stalked 
towards his bed, I couldn't bear to look at him. 

When I pictured this moment, I had intended to sit 
facing him, so he could look up my dress - or rather at 
my lack of undies. But now, I didn't have the nerve. I 
barely made it to the bed and sat down with my back 
towards him, trying to control my breathing and my 
shaking. It took all the nerve I had left, to put my 
hand on his thigh. And I nearly jumped up, when I felt 
Timmy flinch, as if I had hit him. Oh my god, I was 
abusing my own son - I had to leave - now!

Mom's hand was still sitting on my thigh, no more than 
six or seven inches away from my pecker.

My hardening pecker.

Oh god - the towel is slipping!

I was about to get up and leave, when I  noticed that 
something had come alive underneath Timmy's towel, 
causing it to shift slightly. Without obviously bending 
down, I still couldn't see anything, but it was clear 
that he didn't find my hand on his thigh totally gross.

Helplessly I lay there, as my hard-on made a very 
noticeable bulge underneath the towel, which was barely 
hanging on. Mom was still talking, but I had given up on 
answering, as the blood was rushing in my ears, and my 
throat had gone very dry.

As she talked, mom's hand was absently stroking my 
thigh.

Timmy had gone very quiet, as I softly caressed his leg. 
I peered down out of the corner of my eye, and saw the 
very satisfying bulge underneath the towel. I kept 
stroking - more with my fingertips now - and every few 
strokes, my hand moved a little further up, until the 
back of my fingers just touched his balls. 

"I guess, you have better things to do than listen to 
your mom go on and on. I'd better leave."

I tried to talk, but my mouth was too dry. I swallowed 
twice and desperately blurted out: "No mom! I really 
like talking with you. You don't need to go!"
For a moment mom didn't move, or say anything. Then she 
slowly lifted the towel off my pecker. I lay frozen, as 
she looked down on my erection. She traced along the 
shaft with one finger, causing my pecker to twitch when 
she reached the underside of the head. Slowly, she began 
stroking it, with just her fingers. 

Suddenly she grabbed the shaft and gave a little 
squeeze, causing a small flood of pre-cum to ooze out. 
She lifted my penis with one hand, and caressed the head 
with the other. When I moaned with pleasure, she covered 
her hand in my pre-cum and smeared it all over the 
glans. Three strokes later, I erupted...

I felt Timmy's penis twitch in my hand, and then he 
ejaculated. Fascinated, I watched it erupt once - twice 
- three times, from the tip of his swollen glans, 
wondering what it would taste like. I squeezed out the 
last drop and reluctantly released the still hard 
member. 

Mom was looking at the mess, I had made. Quite a bit of 
it was all over her hand. "I'm so sorry mom! I didn't 
mean to do it!" She looked at me for the longest time, 
looked at her gunk-covered hand - got up and left the 
bedroom without a word. 

I felt like crying. A moment ago, I had been in heaven. 
And now I knew mom hated me. I would never feel her soft 
hands on my pecker again...

I didn't trust myself to say anything, and so I just 
left the bedroom. I felt too many conflicting emotions - 
disgust with myself for molesting my son - 
disappointment, that he had cum so soon - fear, that he 
would tell - and a desire to go back and lap up every 
drop he had spilled.


For the next four or five weeks, Timmy seemed to be 
avoiding me. My own emotions had reached rock-bottom. 
Timmy found his own mother disgusting - Peter surely had 
enough of my snapping at him by now... Peter - ohgod - 
if he ever found out.

And then I had a revelation. I was standing at the 
kitchen-sink, peeling potatoes, with the music blaring, 
wearing only a t-shirt and skimpy panties. I'd let the 
time run away from me, and didn't realise, school had 
been out for over half an hour. Looking out into the 
garden, whilst absently peeling away, I saw Timmy 
reflected in the glass. He stood in the doorway, and 
seemed to be squeezing his crotch. 

Then it hit me - if I disgusted him, he would have 
bolted, as soon as he saw me standing here, half naked. 
Instead - he was checking out my ass - and it was having 
an effect on him.

Gloomily, I turned around and trotted up to my room. My 
mom was sooooo sexy, I couldn't bear it. That night - as 
I jacked off - I imagined sliding my hands underneath 
her panties and cupping her cheeks.

The weekend trickled by at snail's-pace. Peter was 
hanging around the house, trying to be solicitous, while 
at the same time, staying out of my hair. I couldn't 
wait for Monday afternoon.

When I came home from school, I let myself flop onto the 
sofa, thinking to watch a bit of TV. Before I had a 
chance to switch it on, I heard mom's voice from 
upstairs: "Timmy dear, could you come up here for a 
minute?"

I sighed. Being around mom was just too painful these 
days. Literally. If I wasn't able to stop thinking of 
mom soon, I would probably keep rubbing away at my 
pecker, until there was nothing left - like an eraser...

Glumly I ascended the stairs.

Mom was lying on the bed, wearing only a short black 
nightie and black nylons. Her legs were together - 
ankles crossed - so I couldn't see anything. It didn't 
matter - blood was already pumping into my pecker, which 
was being squashed uncomfortably. But of course, I 
couldn't adjust myself.

Mom patted the bed next to her and I sat down, feeling 
uncomfortable in more ways than one.

"Timmy dear, do you remember when I gave you the - 
massage - in your room the other day?"

Do I remember! Every single day, I had been longing to 
feel her touch again. 

"I think so?"

"Hm - I don't suppose you would like me to give you 
another one - some day?"

(SOME day? *waaaiill*)

"I think I would like that mommy... a lot!"

Mom nodded absently. I thought, she was about to tell me 
to leave.

"Tell you what, Timmy. If you do your Mommy a really BIG 
favour, I'll give you another massage. What do you 
think?"

"Anything mommy - I'll do anything!"

(Wash the car? Vacuum the house? Clean the windows?)

Keeping her ankles crossed, mom raised her bum off the 
bed, and slid her nightie up, until it was bunched 
around her waist. I couldn't help staring at the bush 
between her legs. 

"There's something that makes mummy feel just as good, 
as the massage I gave you. Do you think, you could help 
me out with that?"

Trying to ignore my throbbing pecker, I croaked: "Sure 
mom!"

Mom uncrossed her ankles, raised her nylon-clad knees, 
keeping her feet on the bed, and then slowly - ever so 
slowly - opened her legs until her knees were wide 
apart, with her soles still pressed together.

I was drowning in the sight of my mother's private 
parts. There was so much to look at - and all of it made 
me leak. There was a big, wet, gash between her legs - 
with a little knob at the top, and a deeper hole towards 
the bottom. Inside the hole, it looked all slimy - like 
when I leak a lot, and I could see another tiny little 
hole. Around the gash, it looked swollen on both sides, 
and there was curly hair everywhere - some of it stuck 
together by - a light-bulb went off inside my head - mom 
must be leaking as well!

Where the hair stopped, mom's smooth thighs began until 
they stopped at the top of her nylons. It was all too 
much to understand - her private parts looked like 
something out of a horror-movie, but I just wanted to 
kiss her thighs, and bury my face deep inside her gash. 
My heart was pounding fiercely and my pecker was 
straining against the fabric of my underpants.

And there I lay - like a slab of meat. Only - the 
gynecologist never looked at me with such hunger in his 
eyes. At first, I felt more exposed  than I had ever 
felt in my life. But as I noticed the growing wet-patch 
on his shorts, I began enjoying myself, as much as - 
visibly - Timmy was.

"You know how your penis sometimes gets - sort of - 
itchy, and you have to rub it, to make the itch go away? 
Well, that's how it feels down there - all itchy. But it 
gets sore, if I rub it. Do you have any idea, what we 
could do about that?"

"Use a washcloth?" 

"That's a pretty good idea, Timmy! I tell you what - 
I'll let you decide, whether you want to go get a 
cloth... or use your tongue to wash me down there..."

I had given him an out. I don't know what I am going to 
do, if he dashes  for the bathroom. I  held my breath as 
- for a moment - he didn't move.

I could not believe it! Finally, I was going to taste 
the juices, which I had been sniffing on mom's panties 
for so long. I climbed on the bed - positioned myself 
between mom's legs and was just about to lean forward 
when mom said: "STOP!"


As he tried to position himself, I could see that the 
bulge in Timmy's shorts must be making him very 
uncomfortable. I certainly didn't want him to be 
distracted in his labours, so I  told him to take them 
off. Hurriedly, he pulled shorts and jocks down in one 
go. I had brief glimpse of the mess in his undies, 
before he climbed back between my open legs. His firm 
little penis was standing up straight, and leaking a 
long strand of pre-cum...

When I lowered my head, I could smell mom's pussy. It 
smelled like her undies - but stronger - and much nicer. 
I wasn't sure at first, where to put my tongue - I 
didn't want to hurt mom, and it all looked a bit - raw. 
So I started on one side, where it was particularly wet 
and sticky.

Ooooh - it tasted soooo good - and mom's pussy was so 
soft - that it wasn't long before I was licking 
everywhere. And the more I licked, the more juice came 
out! I started to think I was doing it wrong, when my 
tongue ran over the little nub at the top. Mom moaned 
and arched her back: "Yes Timmy! Right there - more!"

What Timmy lacked in experience, he certainly made up 
for in enthusiasm.  I couldn't remember the last time I 
was so wet, and when he finally found my clit, I was 
more than ready for it.

I was licking mom's nub, my pecker was aching, mom was 
squirming, and then she started moaning in a high-
pitched voice. Startled, I stopped - but mom grabbed the 
back of my head and pressed my face down into her pussy. 
I couldn't breathe, and couldn't really lick anymore, 
but my mouth was on her nub, so I sort of sucked on it, 
which made mom call out: "OH MY GO-O-OD!!!", as she 
arched her back and shuddered.

I lay there, panting - and couldn't remember the last 
time, I'd had such a strong orgasm. Timmy had sat back 
on his haunches, with his penis straining towards me, 
still leaking pre-cum. Or was it? I saw spatters on the 
sheet, between my legs and knew he had to have come at 
least once, while going down on me. It was time to put 
him out of his misery. And this time, he was bound to 
last a bit longer. But first, I couldn't help being a 
little mischievous.

Trying to sound casual, I said, "That was nice, Timmy. I 
feel much better now. But you must be tired from your 
hard work. It's ok, if you want to go play now." 

Oh, wicked woman! The emotions chased each other across 
Timmy's face: startled, confused, hurt. "But MOM - you 
promised!"

"Hmm? Promised what, dear?" 

"That you would give me a massage!"

I looked down at the sheets. "But Timmy - you don't need 
one - I can see, that you have already emptied your 
penis."

He looked down, and then grabbed his little willie: "But 
it's still itchy, mom!"

I laughed, and then felt wistful - one day, he would 
look back, and miss the days, when he could stay erect 
forever "Alright then." I moved aside, pointed at the 
clean side of the bed, and told him to lie down.

I lay next to him, propped on one elbow. Timmy was 
looking at my breasts, so I told him that he could touch 
them, if he liked. 

He liked...

While I now had the leisure to properly study his 
hairless little willie for the first time.

It was just beautiful. From his taut little balls, my 
eyes roamed up his smooth, straight, little shaft - past 
the brown ring, where he had been circumcised, up the 
pinkish section - lingering on his perfect corona - and 
stopping at his eager little helmet.

It just had to be the tastiest-looking little thing I 
had ever seen. 

And it was all mine!

I stroked his shaft and balls for a bit, before bending 
over and kissing the underside of his glans. It gave a 
satisfying twitch, so I slowly ran my tongue up and down 
the shaft, until I couldn't bear it any longer and took 
my son's penis in my mouth. 

He gave a shudder and little moan...

My pecker was inside mom's warm, wet mouth - and I knew 
nothing would ever feel this good again. My own hand 
rated a four out of ten, since mom's hand rated a ten. 
But this...it was a hundred times better! I wished, she 
would never-ever stop.

I couldn't believe, how enjoyable sucking my son's dick 
was. Because it was still smallish, I didn't have to 
fight the gag-reflex, there were no pubic-hairs to 
tickle my nose, and it felt just so damn good! I worked 
his shaft, while licking the head. Took it as deep as it 
would go, sucked on his head, while squeezing the shaft 
- until he came.

My little Timmy was coming inside his mommy's mouth and 
I felt like a queen. He didn't have much left to give, 
but it tasted like sweet nectar - nothing like my 
husband's stale, salty semen.

I knew then, I would need more. I was still trying to 
suck the last drop out, and already looking forward to 
doing this again, when his balls were full.


I spent the next three days in a fog, trying to hold on 
to the memories of that day: How mom's pussy smelled and 
tasted; How it felt to have my pecker inside mom's 
mouth. The feel of mom's breasts. Mom gave me a little 
smile, whenever dad wasn't watching, but he was always 
around. I think, I hated dad a bit, because I just 
wanted him to go away, so mom and I could play again.

Peter had taken a week off work and it was killing me. I 
was shocked to discover, that I had no desire to make 
love with him, because all I could think about was 
Timmy's beautiful, little penis. I needed to taste his 
sweet ejaculate again. But I knew, every night yet 
another load was being wasted into a wad of tissues. The 
poor boy was surly, and clearly suffering even more than 
I.

Finally - Peter went back to work. 

The day seemed to drag on forever. I almost played with 
myself several times, and by the time school was out, my 
pussy was swollen, dripping, and on fire. I knew, 
Timmy's balls would be full and wanted to empty them 
down my throat. But right now - I needed something else 
far more...

I ran upstairs - dropping my bag along the way - 
praying, that mom was home and willing to play.

Timmy came bolting around the corner, as if all the 
demons of hell were after him.
Mom was leaning against the head-board, wearing nothing 
but a pink floral dress. She'd pulled her feet back and 
spread her legs, so I could see her pussy.

And the hair was gone!

It seemed to call to me: "Come here - kiss me!"

I enjoyed the look of surprise on Timmy's face, when he 
saw that I had waxed. I let him "drink" his fill, and 
then scooted down on the bed. "Don't you think, you 
should take your clothes off?"

I was in such a hurry to get out of my clothes, that I 
got all tangled up and nearly fell down. I climbed onto 
the bed and was going to kneel between mom's legs again.

I just could not get enough of the sight of Timmy's 
little penis sticking up so firmly - eager for his 
mommy. Already, the tip was oozing pre-cum. I told him 
to move higher, so I could hold him. 

Mom wanted to cuddle, so I lay on top of her, and rested 
my head on her breast - looking at the other one. It was 
a nice, round shape and the nipple was standing up. On 
impulse, I leaned over and kissed it.

I could feel Timmy's penis throbbing against my pubic 
mound, and told him to raise his hips.

Then I guided him inside me.
When my penis sank into mom's soft, wet, pussy - my 
brain exploded. I had thought, nothing could feel better 
than her mouth. I was wrong.

I was cupping Timmy's firm buttocks with both hands - 
urging him to fuck me faster and faster. It didn't take 
him long to come!! My little boy was shooting his seed 
inside his mom!! Tears of happiness were running down my 
cheeks, but I was also disappointed, because he had 
finished. I needn't have worried, though - my little man 
hardly missed a beat, and just went on thrusting.

It felt so good... mom's breasts underneath my 
head...mom's hands holding my bottom... my willie inside 
mom's pussy... All I could think was: 

"I'm fucking mummy! I'm fucking mummy!"

END