("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._ `6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`) (_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-' _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,' (((' (((-((('' (((( K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N _________________________________________ WARNING! This text file contains sexually explicit material. If you do not wish to read this type of literature, or you are under age, PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! _________________________________________ Scroll down to view text -------------------------------------------------------- This work is copyrighted to the author © 2012. Please don't remove the author information or make any changes to this story. All rights reserved. Thank you for your consideration. -------------------------------------------------------- Daniel's Enlightenment by Jennifer Bennett (dbarryllc@gmail.com) *** A fourteen year old boy sees his mother naked for the first time and is never the same afterward. (F/m- teen, ped, inc, 1st, rom, oral) *** All the lawyers were in court and would be for the rest of the afternoon. The paralegals were busy with assignments and the few secretaries they employed were all consumed with various tasks that would keep them busy for the rest of the day. Her private assignment board was current and she had completed all the tasks she needed to as office manager. "Ken?" she said to the receptionist. "I'm going to take some personal time. Would you log it please?" "Sure thing, Jen," Kenny, the receptionist answered. She drove the short distance home, changed out of her work clothes, and slipped a pair of jeans on before pulling a light pink polo shirt down and over her bra. She stepped into a pair of juaraches, Mexican sandals purchased years ago on vacation. She washed Danny's dishes from breakfast, dried them, put the silverware in the drawer and placed the glass and plate in the appropriate cupboard. She glanced at the kitchen clock: 2:50. She decided she had more than enough time before her son arrived home from school. In her bedroom, she crawled on hand and knee across the king bed and fished the New Olympic Reader and Little Courtney's Family Secrets from the night stand. She went back to the other side of the bed and closed the door. She lowered her jeans until they were around her ankles, then thought, "Screw it," and stepped completely out of her sandals, jeans and panties. She reached behind her back and deftly unhooked her bra before lying down on the bed and picking up the book of erotic stories. Her copy of the "Reader" was well-worn; "Little Courtney" was even more tattered. Over the years, she read every story in the "Reader" and every chapter in "Courtney". At least twice. From them, she culled five or six stories and four or five chapters into those she considered her "favorites", or in another way, those that would make her the most excited in the least amount of time. All the stories she chose and all the chapters had but one theme: sex by mothers with sons. She supposed it could be said, and rightfully so, she was predisposed to the possibility of a sexual relationship of one sort or another with her son. It was clear stories of sex between family members were the most stimulating to her whenever she masturbated and needed some external stimulus to hasten her orgasm. She made it a point to read many of them over the years since graduating high school. However, given her predilection for incest stories, pedophilia stories did little for her. Actually, they didn't interest her at all and the usual signs of excitement were never present whenever she read one, and she was quick to move onto another story whenever she encountered sex with true children. Although she tried to refrain from judgment of others for their taste in reading materials, she could never move past the ability of small children to render true consent. Three - five - seven year olds? She thought not. On the other hand, teenage boys were of special interest to her. Kids of that age were certainly able to consent to sex with an informed opinion. Especially the intelligent and "mature beyond their years" kids, like her son. She certainly had been able to consent. The stories about moms and teenage sons never failed to arouse her. Perhaps they were the start of her thoughts about sex with teens. She didn't know. Or perhaps that stimulus was a holdover from an earlier time. The attraction to teenage sex was never borne of a sense of naughtiness or outright wickedness between her brother and her. Merely, it was started by a sense of curiosity which, at the time, they both shared. She and her brother masturbated together fairly regularly when she was fourteen and he was fifteen, especially after school when their parents were at work. She even stroked him until he ejaculated on her budding chest from time to time and he returned the favor whenever she asked him to touch her. He taught her to give great oral sex and she reciprocated. Alas, it didn't last long. When her brother found his first real girlfriend at sixteen, their mutual masturbation and oral sex came to an end, although she continued to self-caress and play until she had sex a few months after her seventeenth birthday. Was that incest? Of course, in a strict religious interpretation, it was, without a doubt. But she thought not because they never made love or fornicated. And further, she and her brother didn't seem to be any the worse for wear from the experiences. Each of them was married to a great spouse and each of them had kids. And, neither of them had ever mentioned it again after it came to an end, not out of some misguided sense of self- condemnatory guilt, but because it just wasn't important anymore. Quite simply: they outgrew it. Jenny began masturbating while reading "My Mother Taught Me" from the "Reader". Her vagina lubricated as easily as it always had and her nipples took almost no time to shrink and become firm inside her small, dark aureoles. She held the book in one hand and fluttered the other up and down her body, from breast to vagina and back in anticipation of clitoral stimulation. She spent extra moments barely brushing the very short hair at her vagina. She had regular mani-pedi's and she knew the current style among her friends and even their teen-age daughters was to be completely bare down there, but as yet, she had not succumbed to fashion although she did trim the hair between her legs regularly. She relished the feeling of barely brushing her pubes with a finger or two or even the flat of her hand. She shuddered at the sensation as she lightly brushed the dark "vee"above her vagina. At last, she lay the book aside and began in earnest. She alternately pinched her nipples and stroked her engorged clitoris. ** On his way home from school, Daniel could see his mom's car in the driveway a block away and he immediately wondered if she was sick. She was never home at three o'clock in the afternoon. He reflected and decided he was unable to remember any time his mother was ever home this early from work. He and John, his friend and neighbor continued a leisurely pace and after reaching Daniel's house and bidding each other good-bye, he opened the front door, put his light jacket on the hook and walked the short distance to his mother's bedroom. If his mother was sick and sleeping, he didn't want to wake her so, when he got to her bedroom door, he turned the knob slowly, silently and pushed in slowly. "Holy shit," he thought. His mother's bed faced away from the door and as a result he couldn't see her face for the small lamp on nightstand but he could see everything else. His mother's breasts were smallish but he thought they were the most beautiful in the world. This wasn't surprising as they were the only breasts he had seen, in person, up to that moment. This was the first time, though, that he had ever seen his mother's vaginal area and now he was looking at the dark triangle of hair between her legs and watching fingers from both hands working furiously toward what he knew would be an orgasm in very short order. His mother's legs were splayed apart granting deeper access to her private parts and he knew that this sight was one he would never forget. It was also the sight many of his friends imagined, behind his back, for she was surely the milf they masturbated to each night before they went to sleep. Daniel had admired his mother's collective physical charms many times over the years although he couldn't remember ever entertaining very many sexual fantasies about her until he turned eleven or twelve years old. And even then, he didn't think about fucking her or making love to her; he just wondered what she looked like when she was completely naked. He wondered what her vagina looked like up close and personal and he especially wanted to feel her breasts and to, perhaps, kiss and maybe suck on them as he had as a child. Daniel was no different from any other young boy whose hormones had erupted a year or two before; he was unable to walk away from the sight of a beautiful woman, even his mother, naked before him. His curiosity overwhelmed him and he found himself mesmerized by the sight, unwilling and unable to move from the doorway. His penis stiffened as soon as he opened the door and now they were both lost in their respective reveries. He, voyeuristically watched his mother masturbate and his mother was certainly very close to a "warm fuzzy", as she liked to call it, when the phone next to the bed rang, shaking them both. Thinking the call might be from work, she rolled quickly to her left, reaching for the telephone. She was more than a little startled to see her son's legs in the open doorway. She looked up to see her son's "deer in the headlights" look and heard him say, "I'm sorry, Mom." "Okaaay, then," she said somewhat ruefully as she rolled back to her right, burying her face in one of the large down-filled pillows on the bed. Daniel now had a view of his mother's round, tight bottom. He viewed it for only a second or two before he said, "I'm leaving now, Mom," as he pulled the bedroom door closed. Jenny raised her face from the pillow. "I KNOW YOU ARE!" In his room, Danny began pacing and quietly admonishing himself. "God, Danny, how could you be so fucking stupid? Moron!" He sat on the edge of his bed. "God, Mom is going to be so pissed! Jesus! Moron!" A minute or so after her son left, Jenny rolled off the bed, muttered a 'jeez, louise' and pulled her panties and jeans back up around her slim waist. She zipped up, fastened her bra with the same deft movement as before, lowered the polo shirt, and stepped back into the juaraches. ** She softly knocked twice on her son's bedroom door and then, without waiting to open it, leaned inside. Silently, she crooked one finger and motioned her son to follow her to the kitchen; she motioned to a chair at the table, indicating to him to sit. She continued on, through the tiny kitchen and into the den. She retrieved a bottle of VSOP brandy from the top shelf in the closet and when she returned to the kitchen, she poured her son an ice tea before pouring herself a rather large amount of brandy over a few ice cubes. She seated herself across from her son and took a fairly long sip of her brandy. He waited for the onslaught. She stared at him for a couple long seconds, his shame evident. Then she said, deadpan, "So, how was your day?" Daniel couldn't help but laugh out loud. It was the same question she asked almost every night before dinner and he knew right away she wasn't angry with him. He had a hard time managing a straight face, but he conversationally answered, "Oh, I don't know. I guess it was pretty good. How was yours?" "Oh, you know, pretty average morning," she began, "but then, my afternoon became really, really exciting." Her son lowered his head, attempting to suppress laughing again. When he looked up, he said "I'm sorry, Mom. I'm really, really sorry." He couldn't help but chuckle. "Well, thank you for that. Apology accepted. But let me ask this: How long were you at the door?"she asked. "I don't know. Not long. A minute, maybe." Jenny cocked an eyebrow in disbelief. "Okay, a little longer. When I got there, you had one hand." "Whoa! Whoa! Whoa, Boy-o," she exclaimed, silencing him. "Spare me the play by play, if you don't mind. If you remember, I was a featured player in that game." "Okay. Jeez, Mom, it's nothing to be ashamed of"”" "Hold on," his Mom interrupted, laughing, "are you going to give me the 'nothing to be ashamed of, everyone does it, perfectly normal speech'? Because I think that's my job, Danny, not yours." Nodding his head only once in agreement, he answered "Absolutely. And now that we've had the conversation, do we ever need to have it again?" Jenny stared upward, toward the ceiling as if contemplating the question with great seriousness. She lowered her face. "Nah," she said a bit flippantly. "It's normal. Everybody does it. It's nothing to be ashamed of. The only thing is, Danny," she said earnestly, "most mothers don't masturbate with a SON watching." They both laughed. "I get it, Mom. Look," he said contritely, "what can I do to make what happens this afternoon, up to you? I said I was sorry, and I am." Jenny stood, fetched the brandy from the counter and poured herself another drink, then, as an afterthought, she added a small amount to his ice tea. "Don't worry about it, Kiddo," she finally said. "You'll think of something." "So I'm forgiven?"he asked. Jenny stared into her son's eyes without speaking. "Wow," she thought. "What a question." It was fully a minute before she spoke. "I'm not sure forgiveness is the right thing to ask for," she began, finally, her voice soft and serious. "Why not?" he asked. Jenny paused before answering. "Well, I'm not certain you did anything wrong," she answered. "I mean, before I came to your room to get you, I tried to remember when I was your age. I think I would have done the same thing if I found my father doing what I was doing this afternoon." "Really?" Danny asked, a tinge of disbelief in his voice. His mother paused a bit. "Yeah," his mother said thoughtfully. "You know. Hormones. Puberty. Curiosity. Those are surely the deadly triumverate. And," she continued, "I don't doubt for a minute I would have watched. Yeah," she nodded affirmatively, confessing. "I definitely would have watched. No doubt about it." "Wow," was all he could say. They drank silently for a minute enjoying each other's presence. Danny wondered what the dollop of brandy in his ice tea was all about, but then dismissed it as merely a gesture that something had changed between them and that it would be okay. His mother was nearly through her second drink when she asked, "What do you want for dinner? Burgers? Or chili?" "Both." "I can do that," she laughed. "I'm going to go shower," he announced as he rose from the table. Jenny stood too. "Give me a hug," she said. They stood at the table and hugged. It was a different hug than the ones they shared before. It was a little tighter, a little closer, and it lasted just a bit longer than any hug he remembered. His mother's groin was noticeably closer to his, too. It was nice and it felt good. To both of them. ** Jenny molded the burger patties into the proper size for Kaiser rolls, sprayed the broiler pan, and placed the paddies on it. She set the buns on the counter and started the leftover chili in a small sauce pan on very low heat. She assembled a small, dinner salad which she knew Danny would barely touch. That was okay. She'd eat what he didn't. She set the table, placed the salads in the fridge, covered the chili with the pan cover slightly cocked, and poured herself another drink. She added a bit of water to this one, diluting it a bit. As she sat next to the stove, sipping her third drink, she leafed through a Vanity Fair seeking an article she had not yet read, but found herself stopping at ads that showed young boys in Calvin Klein underwear and although she thought the boys were to be of an age before they could pose like this, she knew they couldn't be. They were a lot like her son. They were firm and hard and gorgeous with blank looks directly into the camera. The girls in the pictures were best described as drugged out sluts, but the boys were angelic, even beautific. Inadvertently and subconsciously, she began to replace the models in the pictures with her son, Danny. His face was certainly to the standards of VF"” which was to say he was beyond cute and well into handsome while retaining a sexy, young boy look. From what his mother observed, his body was at least as good and in some cases much better than the models that were being paid stratospheric sums of money to have a picture taken. She focused too, on the boys' crotches. She hadn't seen her son's naked cock in years, sometime around the time he turned seven or so, but she imagined Danny would be as large, even larger, than the boys in the ads. If his father was any indication, he would be larger than the boys she was comparing him to. ** While he was in the shower, Danny developed a thought that concerned his mother. He wasn't thinking of sex with her: he was contemplating what he could do to repay her for his incursion into her privacy. And then it hit him and he knew what he was going to do. He was greatly relieved his mother wasn't angry, but then he should have known she wouldn't be. Anger was not a feeling to be found in his mother's emotional repertoire. Frustration? Sure. Exasperation? From time to time, but he couldn't remember his mother being 'furious' or even angry in all his time on planet Earth. He turned the water off, stepped from the shower, dried himself with the generous bath sheet and looked into the large mirror above the vanity. As he looked at his body he decided he wasn't that half bad. Although he was fourteen, he was pretty well developed. His chest was pretty strong albeit with only a small patch of adult chest hair. His abdomen wasn't of "six-pack" quality, but it was firm, even hard. His hips were narrow and manly and his legs were well-developed from the gym, cross-country track in the spring, and skiing each winter. He did a vanity flex and was satisfied. His arms seemed to have muscular bumps where they were supposed to be and his neck muscles actually sloped a little away from his neck. Well, no, they didn't, but he didn't care. Although he had been contemplating what he was about to do, his penis hung flaccidly between his legs. Soft, it was no more than two and a half or three inches or so, a boy's penis, but this didn't bother him. He compared favorably with other boys he saw in the shower every other day at school. And, anyway, he knew from experience that when he was sexually excited, his penis would grow to be five or five and a half inches and it would become, however so slightly, larger around. His only disappointment was that he possessed very little pubic hair and even though he had been masturbating since discovering the practice in the bath tub when he was eleven, his scrotum was small and tight, no larger than a plum. Well, a fairly large plum but, nonetheless, a plum. He turned to look at his backside over a shoulder and was pleasantly surprised at the muscular firmness of his bottom. He laughed out loud as he realized his was exactly like one he had witnessed on his mom earlier in the day. All in all, he was happy with himself, even proud. He had a good body, and he was confident in his knowledge of it. He walked the very short distance, naked, from the bathroom into his room. ** He felt under his dresser and found the copy of "Hustler" a friend of his had given him ages ago. Before he lay down, he thought of his mother. And when he lay down, he thought of her more. He did not dwell on the things he had seen earlier. Of course the sight of his mother's breasts, vagina, long splayed legs, and her hands searching her body, caressing her body were indelibly imprinted on his memory. Nonetheless, he thought of her as he saw her before that afternoon. She had the darkest hair of anyone he had ever known. It could have been described as brunette or dark, but that wouldn't have nearly covered it. In fact, it was nearly a blue/black, thick, shiny mane that mesmerized everyone who saw it. It had an effect on women, too. Her hair cascaded down, off her shoulders to mid or lower collar and seemed to luster under the sun, sprinkling golden sparkles into the air wherever she walked. As her son, he had witnessed the effect many times and he didn't know how many men and women admired her, either sexually or just out of adulation for her thick, dark tresses. The eyes into which he had been looking since the day he was born were difficult to describe. Yes, they were brown. However, they were a deep, dark, coppery brown and deeply intense. They were brown, dark brown, but so much more. They were deep and dark and he thought, and had thought, that whenever his mother looked at him with even a modicum of intensity, she could see into his soul. She had a fine, straight aquiline nose set between naturally thin, dark eyebrows, and a narrow face that complemented her lithe body. Her complexion was darker than his, a gift from and Iranian grandmother or grandfather granted long ago in some recessive gene. It didn't matter. In his mind, his mother was the most beautiful and desirable woman in the world. As he looked through the magazine, he lazily felt his dick and looked through the pictures. At the end of the magazine, he came across the part of the magazine in which readers submitted pictures of girlfriends and other important people in their lives. "My mother Rachel, taken by her son Daniel." "Fuck," he thought. "A mother." The woman was laid out, au plait, her cunt seemingly open and willing to accept any penis. She reminded him of his mother, especially the willingness to accept a cock. She seemed to be open and willing. ** Jenny heard the shower shut off. For some reason, there was a fairly loud "clunk" in the pipes when the valves to the shower were closed. It had been that way since the day they bought the house and although she was adamant about having it fixed, it had never been done. She checked the chili, stirred it, and lowered the heat. She stood at the kitchen counter leafing through the Vanity Fair and after five or six minutes passed, she called loudly to her son. "Fifteen minutes, Danny," she called, warning her son they would soon sit down to dinner. She had been reading for only a minute or two when she realized her son had not acknowledge her earlier call for dinner. "Danny?" she called again. Still, there was no answer. "Huh?" she thought, puzzled. She stirred the chili, turned off the burner, and placed the cover on the small pan. As she was about to leave the kitchen, she put the burgers into the pre-heated broiler and left the kitchen on her way to see what was happening with her son. As she turned the corner through the living room and looked down the short hallway, barely twenty five or thirty feet away she was about to call to her son. Then she saw him. "Awww, Jeez," she thought, contemplating the ramifications of her earlier display and her son's actions now. At the end of the hall, her son was reading a magazine, naked, his legs off the edge of the bed and he was obviously in early throes of some type of sexual excitement. Even from her perspective of thirty feet or so, it was apparent that her son, Danny, had showered, was naked, and was stroking his penis with a certain amount of slow reverie. Jen returned her attention to the kitchen. She removed the burgers, stopped the broiler, moved the chili to a cool burner before she returned to the living room and hallway on the way to her son's room. ** She was barely feet away when she took the next two steps to her son's doorway and paused, watching. She leaned easily against the door jam, crossed her arms, and then her feet as she stood casually watching her son's cock. The magazine was "Hustler". One of the most despicable magazines she had ever seen for its diminishment of women in particular and its general corruption of the beauty of sex. Although some of the sex was disgustingly exciting, she had to admit. Her son's body was beautiful. Perfect, she thought. His body was the embodiment of every fourteen year old boy she had ever fucked or played with either in her dreams or reality. "Fuck," she thought, somewhat regretfully. "This is going to be tricky." She watched her son stroke himself, although he didn't seem to be much into it. He stroked slowly. Nonetheless, his cock was erect and she thought only of touching, playing, caressing, and doing whatever with the cock that reminded her so much of her brother. She felt a familiar ping or dribble or whatever between her legs. It was not a pee ping. It was her cunt reminding her of sex. Her vagina was moistening as she watched a boy play with is young, nearly hairless cock. A young cock. A penis. Her boy's penis. Without a touch, her breasts became firm, and nipples hardened. In short, her cunt and her body flowed with sex as she watched her son, naked, upon his bed. She watched her son another thirty seconds or so. "Daniel, what are you doing?" she said softly from the doorway. The boy sprang up releasing his penis and dropping the magazine. "Mom!" he exclaimed as if surprised. "Oh, be quiet, Danny. Shhh," she admonished, holding her palm upward to stop whatever he was about to say. "Do you think for a second that I don't see what's going on? Well, do you? Do you think I'm stupid?" He had to pause for a second. "No, Mom, I don't." "Well, what DO you think of me, Danny?" she asked. There was a long silence. "Well, I like seeing you every day," he said, somewhat sheepishly. She laughed and it seemed to release the tension in the room. "You mean 'seeing me' like you did this afternoon?" "N-N-No Mom, I meant..." His mother put a finger to her lips, silencing him. "Shush. I know what you meant. That was a joke," she smiled. "Gotcha," she added, laughing. Daniel's erection was dissipating, only a memory as he reached for the comforter at the foot of his bed to cover himself. "Oh, no, no, no, you don't," she interrupted, waving a finger back and forth in admonishment. "You don't get off that easily, Boy-o." Daniel's arm stopped in mid-motion. "What do you mean?" ** His mother entered the room. She sat on the bed a number of inches from her son. She handed him the lubricant and picked the magazine up to see what her son had been looking at. She found the picture of "Rachel" almost immediately and showed it to her son. "You were looking at this, weren't you," she said. It was not a question. The woman in the photo was not particularly attractive and was more than a few years older than she was. Nonetheless, her body was admirable in an older sort of way. Her breasts seemed firm with small, taut, light brown nipples set in small aureoles and she carried not an ounce of fat. The legs were long and her vagina was waxed into a narrow strip of short, neatly trimmed pubic hair. His mother lay down next to him, a comfortable four or five inches from his naked body. "You know this is a mother, right?" "Evidently, it's the photographer's mother, Mom," Danny laughed. His mother looked at him. "Do you ever think of me like this? Naked? I need to know the truth, Danny." "Not before earlier." "And now?" she asked. Her son couldn't answer. His feelings were predominantly of guilt. "Danny?" she encouraged. "I can't stop seeing you that way." His penis was hard again. "Give me that," she said, nodding at the lube. She squeezed a small amount into her palm and started stoking his erection. "Aw, jeez," he moaned softly. His mother misunderstood and stopped her hand for a second. "Do you want me to stop?" "No. No. I don't want you to stop." "Slide up on the bed and put your hands behind your head." They both slid up and she snuggled next to him and started her ministrations again as she rose up on one elbow and propped her head on her hand. "When you think of the naked me, do you think of anything else? Do you think of sex with me?" Before he could answer, she whispered "Don't talk. You don't need to answer." She continued her ministrations. The woman had serious reservations about the Pandora's box she was opening with her son. Everything she had ever learned, either in the church she used to attend or at school or university said to her that what she was doing with her son's penis was forbidden by some unwritten commandment and that this would lead to nothing good. Her son's nipples were hard and she leaned forward, softly nipping one. She leaned back as she continued to stroke and lazily watched her own hand. She was moving it somewhat slowly although her pace had picked up a bit since the inception of the act. She wondered if stealing surreptitious looks at her son and imagining him naked when he was wearing shorts, or boxers, was incest in the truest sense of the word. Was it incest to do what she was doing now? Or was incest confined to the act of sex, actual sex, between a mother and son or a father and daughter? Did incest require an actual act of insertion into a vagina to constitute incestual sex? Were the things she and her older brother did when they were young constitute incest? Or could the petting and kissing be chalked up to youthful exuberance or simple pubescent curiosity? ** Her son's penis had absorbed the lotion so she took removed her hand and spit in it before returning it to her son's manhood. And it really was a quite nice representation of a sexual member. If it kept growing as her son matured, he would have a penis that would make any woman happy. Danny opened his eyes. "Did you just spit in your hand?" "Yep," she answered lightly. "Is that what girls do?" She laughed out loud. "You better hope so, Boy-o, or you're in for a very painful hand-job." "So that's what this is!" he laughed. "Yep. Hand-job. That's what this is," she said as she joined his laughter. "We're being naughty, you know," she added, smiling. He was laughing again. "Oooohhh yeeaah. This definitely qualifies as naughty, Mom. Maybe even a little perverse." She stopped stroking and released him. She moved her hand to his flat, firm tummy, but he didn't seem to mind that she had stopped. "Do you really think so? That this is perverse?" she asked. Danny was quiet for a moment as he looked into his mother's beautiful, dark brown eyes. He seemed to be thinking of his response. "Let me put it like this, Mom," he began earnestly. "I really didn't expect that the first hand to touch my dick..." "Ah, ah, ah," she interrupted. "You're what?" "Okay. I never expected the first hand, not my own, to touch my PENIS," he corrected, "would be my mom's. But I'm really glad it was. Uh, is," he added as he moved her hand back to his failing erection. "So. Perverse?" she asked after she spit into her hand again and began jacking him once more. "You know what Dad would say." "What?" "The answer to that question is way above my pay grade. And, besides, I really don't want to put a judgment on this. It feels good. I like it. I only hope you like doing it, too." "Oh, I do," she answered, soulfully "I really do. You feel good. Nice and strong." "Don't you mean nice and hard?" he asked, laughing again. "Yeah, that too!" she exclaimed, laughing softly. "Damn, my arm is killing me," she added. She placed her aching arm under his neck and rested her head on his shoulder. His erection was directly in her eye line and she marveled at its firmness and well, its beauty. It was a wonderful sight to see, she thought as she staggered her pace slightly. "Danny, may I kiss you? Not a mom kiss. A real kiss. A love kiss." "You know you may and you know I want you to." Danny turned toward his mother as she rolled toward him. His arms went around her and she put a one leg over his. She softly pressed her lips on his. He hadn't kissed many girls in his life but if the rest of the girls he kissed were even close to this, he would be happy. No, he would be ecstatic. His mother's lips were almost unbelievably soft and he was additionally excited by just a hint of her perfume from the morning. His penis was as hard as he could ever remember it being and his mother had not stopped stroking him as she kissed. He moved his hands toward her breast but she stopped him. "Not yet, Cowboy," she said, her voice husky. They began again and as if on cue, their lips parted and she invited her son into her warm, moist mouth. Their tongues danced slowly, savoring the taste and texture of the other's insides. They kissed softly, then more fervently, then softly again. She stopped the kiss for a moment to plant soft, loving kisses on her son's forehead, then on his eyes and cheeks until she found his mouth again. She lingered on her son's mouth until disengaging and slipping down to lick his neck with the very tip of her moist tongue. She dribbled lower, pausing at his erect nipples to suck and gently bite each of them. Her tongue traced ever lower before she stopped. Suddenly, she stood up on her knees, reaching over Daniel's head to grab his two pillows. She placed them under her son's head before standing and removing her blouse, then the bra. She kicked off her shoes and slipped easily from her jeans. She knealt at the edge of her son's bed. The bed was the perfect height for her and she was able to see her son's beautiful erection. Her son's penis bobbed with each beat of his heart. After she grasped his penis, she looked at her son again staring for a long moment as if she was making a decision. "Boy-o, I think the first lips to touch your penis are going to be your Mom's. Is that okay?" He nodded, but only twice. He and his mother knew they were crossing a line that would be difficult to come back from but neither of them seemed to care at that point. Her vagina had begun to lubricate during their first real kiss and it had not stopped. She knew her panties were soaked from her fully lubricated cunt. Small clear drops from Danny's penis were evident too when she was stroking him and she intended to taste the drops of pre-come. Even though there was little of this fluid escaping from her son's erection, she knew she would savor it as much as she had savored her brother's. He watched as his mom released her soft clutch on his penis and put her hands on his hard, strong thighs. She gently pushed them a bit farther apart and he accommodated her. Without moving her gaze from his, she lowered her face to his groin. She started at his scrotum with the tip of her tongue. Danny moaned at the touch. She felt the invisible fuzz on the small, tight sack and allowed herself to swirl in it. She toyed with him for a second or two and then began to slowly trace her mouth up his erection. As she reached its end, she used two fingers to pull it forward until it was standing straight up, nearly pointing at the ceiling. Softly, she mouthed her son, taking only a small portion of the head on his circumcised penis, teasing him lightly, gently, even sweetly. She placed a small, soft, even chaste kiss on the very tip of his erection at the place where she knew his sperm would soon erupt and then allowed her tongue to merely tickle the opening at the center of his glans. She looked at her son once more. "I love you, Danny," she whispered and then returned to the fellatio she was about to perform. And then she began to perform the delicious act she had performed on her brother, her husband, and not a few distant high school and college lovers. She knew that her pace would be agonizingly slow. Her brother taught her that. She barely moved a centimeter every two seconds as she lowered her mouth around her son's penis. She continued, savoring the feeling of his penis in her as she moved slowly downward. She used her tongue to massage the perfectly formed erection that was exciting her beyond any sensation she had a right to expect. She was careful to keep her teeth out of the equation. He brother taught her that, too. When the penis with which she was now more than familiar touched the beginning of her throat, she plunged her head downward until she completely engulfed her son. She did not move. Danny was only able to issue a barely audible, "uuuuuunnnngh!" With her son's penis embedded in her throat, she was unable to breathe but she didn't care. The feeling of this large piston in her mouth excited her even more than most sex as she pleasured whomever the lucky person was to place his penis in her mouth and push it to the very depths of her mouth and throat. She held her position on her son until she felt the familiar stirring and trembling of a man about to ejaculate. She moved her head upward, rapidly, until he was nearly out of her mouth. She clutched his penis at its base, squeezing tightly enough to close the urethra, but not hard enough to cause pain. Without glancing up, she whispered, "Not yet! Not yet!" Daniel was nearly unable to see his mother's face as her black hair cascaded down and onto his thighs and she moved her mouth down, onto his manhood again. He felt the head of his penis press the back of her throat and then she began the slow movement up until she was nearly to its tip and then she started down again, clutching her son's erection. She was excited and the copious amount of fluid that seeped from her vagina showed it. She seemed to increase the speed of her mouth and hand as she ravished the beautiful penis. She banged it at the back of her throat and continued stoking and sucking faster and faster until her son could no longer contain it. "Muh.. nnnhhh," he groaned. His hands found his mother's head. She lifted her face long enough to utter "Yes. Now," and then she was back on him in time to feel his eruption and to savor the taste of her son's sperm. The teenage sperm from her son poured into her mouth and throat. The sensation was not physical for her. It was deeply emotional as her son used her motherly throat to accept him in his first sexual encounter. His cock bumped at the depth of her throat exciting her beyond reason and her cunt dripped as she was throat fucked. She kept his penis in her mouth after he was done, gently stroking the last vestiges of his ejaculate. In fact, she kept him in her mouth until he was nearly soft again and his breathing had returned to a semblance of normal. When they were done, she rose up on her knees and opened her mouth to show her son the tribute to his cock she cherished. "Eew!" He, clearly, was not amused and perhaps even a little revolted at the sight of his mother's mouth filled with his sperm. His mom tilted her head back and laughed through the thick slippery stuff in her mouth. To him, it sounded more like she was gargling with a thick substance, something viscous. Then she swallowed. It took two motions of her throat muscles to get it down but when she opened her mouth and rolled her tongue around he could see it was gone. He was fascinated and not just a little bit amazed by the whole pornographic process. She stood up. She nodded at a place next to him on the bed and asked, "May I?" He patted the spot next to him and his mom slipped onto the bed and under his arm. She returned her head to his shoulder. "That was nice," she said softly. "Fun," she added. "Really?" he asked. "Do you like doing that?" His mother raised herself and looked at him quizzically. "No," she finally said, laughing. "I find the thought of my son putting his cock into my mouth and having me suck until he ejaculates absolutely abhorrent. Abhorrent!" she added with mock seriousness. Then she laughed. They nestled together for a few minutes before she noticed his breathing was becoming deep and regular. "Hey," she said, shaking him gently. "What?" "If you're anything like every other man I've ever known, you need a nap about now. I'm going to go shower and make dinner. I'll wake you when it's ready. Here," she said raising from the bed. "Scoot around and I'll cover you." Daniel moved to lay his body lengthwise on the bed as his mother covered his beautiful, naked body. His cock was soft, but she couldn't resist placing a soft, loving kiss on it before she pulled the covers up and over her son's body. She remembered and relished her son's cock deep in her throat. She reflected that covering him now, after all they had just done, really wasn't much different than covering him at any other time when he was younger. Much younger. Jennifer Bennett loved her son. It was as simple as that. END Dependent upon what people email me (dbarryllc@gmail.com) about this story, I may write more. *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* The author does not condone child abuse, this story is meant as an erotic fantasy not depicting anything in real life. Anyone acting out such scenarios in "real life" can look forward to many unproductive years getting it up the butt by a fellow convict in their local prison system. *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* Kristen's collection - Directory 73