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It was a sunny afternoon in Boston and I was planning to go to the gym, my favorite time of the day. I was looking forward to seeing Francesca, my fitness advisor. I know there’s no chance that Francesca would ever go out with me because I am much older than she is, but she was nice enough to let me write a story about her. She is slim with Asian eyes but she isn’t all Asian. She’s a mix of German and French and Japanese. That’s why she is so beautiful.
My thoughts were interrupted by my mother who had just finished making dinner — a chicken cacciatore and enough to feed a horse. Yeah, I doubt a horse would eat that stuff, but it was an expression I used a lot.
Mom did not have a job, since she called herself self employed. She did horoscopes, mostly for the ladies in the church choir. The girls (as she called them) would come to our home, and she’d give them a cup of tea, and she would open her act by reading tea leaves. She’d look into a lady’s cup and tip it a bit to the side until it resembled a Rorschach blob. With this information she’d tell the woman about her love life and that there was good news coming. Stuff like a relative dying and leaving her a ton of money. Since our church had a big membership, there was no shortage of lurid predictions.
As long as I lived at home, Mom never made serious money because she charged only few bucks and that included doing the woman’s natal chart and reading tarot cards.
I asked her about my marriage and whether I should divorce Pat, because Pat was in a mental hospital and had been there for over two years. My mother’s advice — be patient!
We were sitting in the living room and she was reading a magazine, but not really reading because her eye’s weren’t moving. I’d just finished checking the Red Sox season schedule.
“Junior,” she said, because she always called me ‘junior’ even though my dad died a long time ago, “your mother stories are nice, but I’d like you to write a story about me.”
I understand you have to write about life, and your experiences, but my mother wasn’t the kind of mom that I wrote about. My mother was a big woman, like her sisters, and she didn’t mess around with guys and I doubt she even masturbated. All my mom did outside the house was go to church and sing in the choir. Her voice was weak so they stuck her in the second row, just behind the soloist, a woman with huge boobs and a fat ass.
“Well, OK, Mom. But I’ll have to make you look slutty — a hot-assed female, who spends most of her time looking for ways to get herself off.”
She just smiled at me. And honestly, she wasn’t that type of woman.
“How do you know I don’t jerk off? Or finger my butt …”
She surprised me, because we never spoke about sex.
“When I was younger, you’d be surprised how naughty I was.”
“You better believe it. My pussy was always throbbing, and I had to sneak ways to pleasure myself.” She was using words I’d never thought would come out of her mouth.
“And now, I am more horny than ever. You know, as a woman gets older her sex drive get stronger …”
She hesitated, then decided to tell me more. “I used to masturbate to a specific fantasy. I had lots of smut I made up because when you’re really hot you can have ten guys fucking you. Without a good dream there’s no point in trying to make it. But I had a girl friend, Amy, and I knew she did it at work. She’d go into the ladies’ room and she’d tell me about it later. My pussy would burn up and my clitoris grew hard and hot, and my nipples throbbed. Amy seemed to be in heat all the time. She was married to some nerd who worked sixteen hour days. They’d been married less than a year and the marriage was already in the toilet.”
“OK, you win …” I relented. Mom was close to sixty years old, and I was over thirty myself. “What kind of story do you want? Mother and son?”
“Exactly. Make me a mother who seduces her son. He’s eighteen and he’s a college freshman, and can fuck for hours. And give him a huge cock!”
The possibilities were endless. With mom’s guidance I wrote the story which follows. Mom is Ellen and her son’s name is Robert.
On Thursday morning, Ellen Preston kept her son Robert home from classes. .
After Bob Preston, on his way to work, had taken Jane with him, so he could drop her off at school, Ellen was alone at last with her young son.
It was a moment which she had anticipated for some time. Ellen was in her late thirties, a mature adult female. She was strikingly attractive and arousing, full-bodied, with a lovely face and an alluring physique.
Ellen’s good looks were the fresh, natural, wholesome kind, not dependent on glamour. She was a pretty and voluptuously developed suburban housewife and mother.
She had her own ideas on the proper way to raise her children, especially where their sexual development was concerned.
It was roughly nine o’clock, nice and early. Ellen felt lazy and relaxed as she finished putting canlı bahis şirketleri the washed breakfast dishes away in the formica cabinet.
She wore a pink housecoat, made of a soft fuzzy fabric which clung to her womanly curves. The robe was belted at her waist with a sash.
Ellen was a big woman, and stood a few inches over five and a half feet tall. She had a magnificent bosom, almost flat belly, and wide hips.
She was in splendid condition, not just for her age, but for any age. Her body was well toned and developed, taut and firm, without sagging.
Her auburn brown hair was styled in short and attractive coiffure. She had a heart-shaped face, penetrating blue eyes, a bold wide mouth.
She reached behind her back, her plump breasts pressing against the soft cups of her gown, and the quilted covering of her robe.
At the small of her back was a knotted apron string. She opened and untied it, took off the apron and hung it up, and went upstairs.
Yellow morning light slanted through the east windows on the second floor of the spacious suburban home. Ellen went down the hall to her son’s room.
She was surprised to discover that her hands trembled. She smiled to herself. Now that the big moment had arrived, she was very excited.
She paused outside his closed door. Each of her two children had their own rooms. Linda’s room, unoccupied while she was away at school, would be used by her when she returned this weekend for her monthly visit.
Ellen took a deep breath, her heart pounding. She let out her breath slowly, calming herself, composing herself.
She was amused by her own reaction. With all the lovers she had taken, she should be calm and cool as a cucumber. But her excitement was palpable, firing her passions.
She opened the door and went into her son’s room. Robert sat up in bed, his back against the headboard. The curtains covered the window, while the small lamp on his night table softened some of the shadows.
Robert was almost nineteen, a freshman at USC. He was handsome, fresh-faced and had just showered. He was the youngest of her two children, the only boy.
He had brown hair with yellow highlights, which fell across his forehead, the tips falling across his alert green eyes.
His features were smooth and clean, with a scattering of freckles across his face. He was beardless, but he was sexually mature. He had no tattoos.
He had been mature enough for her purposes for a few years — physically mature, that is, given the amount of times she knew he jerked off every day.
He was like a delicious peach, and Ellen had longed to take a bite out of him. But she had restrained her desires for more than two years.
She waited until he had the necessary emotional maturity. He had to be trusted with family secrets which would be dangerous to reveal to outsiders. Now that he was ready, Ellen would initiate him in her own special way.
Robert squirmed when he saw what she was wearing. His face told her he was embarrassed. Ellen was inwardly amused by his innocent reaction, but she did not smile, for fear that he would misunderstand the smile, and mistakenly think that she was laughing at him.
“Hi, honey,” she said, moving to his bedside.
Robert wore striped pajamas. The tops were open at the throat, showing his smooth fair skin, the hollow of his throat, his developing upper body.
He was slim for his age, with long, lean limbs. The sheet covered him from the waist down. She reached out to touch his head.
She had kept him home from classes today, so that she might have him all to herself. School was certainly important, but Robert was a good student who wouldn’t suffer from missing a day’s classes at the university. Besides, what he would learn today from her would be more important than anything he might pick up in school.
She and Robert shared a scheme, a little conspiracy. Yesterday, she had told him to complain that he was feeling stuffy this morning. Robert pretended that he had a touch of the flu, and Ellen said that she would keep him home just to be on the safe side. Robert had to be in good health for the family weekend coming up.
Robert was shy. He fidgeted anxiously, too nervous to look up at his own mother. Ellen smiled down fondly at him as she ran her fingers through his hair.
“Any room for me to sit down, Robert?”
“Huh? Oh, sure, Mom, I’ll move over …” Robert slid across to the other side of the bed, keeping himself covered with the sheet. Ellen parked her wide warm rear on the mattress. Robert stared at her breasts.
“I’m so glad that you’re staying home and spending the day with your mother, dear.” Ellen rubbed his thin shoulder through his pajama top.
She took his head in her hands, his soft cheeks warm against her pressing palms. “I promised you that I’d give you a special surprise, remember?”
“Y-yes, Mom!” Now he was so nervous that he could hardly look at her.
“I always keep my promises, Robert.” She squeezed his shoulder. “You’re so canlı kaçak iddaa sweet, honey! I love you so much!”
He didn’t answer because he wasn’t sure what to expect.
She puckered her lips and kissed his forehead. She couldn’t resist the temptation to press her full, ruby lips against his mouth.
She kissed him hard on the mouth. His eyes widened. He gasped. Ellen put fire in her kiss, but she kept her mouth closed and didn’t use her tongue.
Not yet, anyway.
She stood up. “I’ll be right back, Robert. When I come in, I want you to have your pajamas off. You will do that for me, won’t you, dear?”
“Yes, Mom.” His voice croaked.
Ellen patted the top of her son’s head and ruffled his hair. She crossed the room, paused at the door, turned and blew him a kiss.
When she returned to his room a few moments later, she wore a sexy black negligee, and a full and flowing nightgown of black satin and lace.
Her heavy breasts were supported by black satin cups which were skin-tight against her swelling bosom, the nipples jutting against the cups.
The weight of her breasts pulled down on the straps which supported the cups, causing the straps of black lace to cut into her smooth white shoulders.
The gown was sleeveless, so her round arms were bare. It was tight in the bosom, and low and plunging in the back, displaying most of her broad white back.
The fabric was free and gauzy. The lushly curved shape of her body was white, veiled by the flowing masses of see-through fabric.
The hem of the gown reached her ankles. She wore no panties under the gown, and the dark bush of her pubic patch was visible.
The gown rustled and swished as she moved to her son’s bedside.
Robert sat up in bed like he was in shock. His eyes were wide and staring and his mouth hung open in breathless astonishment.
He had done as she told him. His pajamas, top and bottom, were hung on the knobbed bedpost. Ellen turned out the light, so the room was intimately dim.
She got into bed beside him. She took hold of the sheet before he could think of covering himself. When she yanked the sheet away from his body, she had totally uncovered him. His limbs were all pink and smooth, naked. She saw his semi-erect penis and his balls.
“Mom!” he gasped.
“Slide over, darling, and make room for your mother, or I’ll think you don’t want me here!” She slithered more closely to him.
In his first reaction of automatic shock, Robert covered his genitals with his hands. He looked like he might faint.
She pressed against him, smiling down at the hands that covered his cock and balls. “Who are you hiding from, silly?”
She took hold of his hands and firmly placed them at his sides, uncovering his cock and balls. He had a dark brown pubic patch. His penis was thick, swollen, long … a most handsomely endowed tool, Ellen thought approvingly.
“You have nothing to hide from me, young man,” she said. “I know what you look like. I’m your mother, and I know all about you!”
She put her hand on his chest. His tiny pink nipples stiffened as her fingers playfully rubbed and tweaked them.
Goose bumps rose on his smooth skin as she rubbed his chest and belly.
“You’re a man now, Robert. A young man, I should say. It’s time that you found out about love, and how to make a woman happy.”
She had selected herself as her son’s teacher.
“Don’t you find me attractive, Robert?” she teased.
“Of course I do! I think that you’re beautiful!”
“Thank you, dear. Now, just relax. I know that this is your first time with a mature woman. There’s nothing to be scared of. Just relax and enjoy it.”
“Trust me,” she whispered into his ear. “I won’t bite!” But after thinking about what she just said, she giggled to herself.
Her breath was warm, tickling him. He squirmed. Ellen nibbled his soft pink ear lobe between her even, white teeth.
That really made him squirm. He whimpered with wanting.
Ellen kissed him on the mouth. His teeth were closed. She pressed them with her tongue until he opened his jaws, then she stuck her tongue in his mouth.
He tasted fresh, clean, unspoiled. His saliva was sweet. His tongue writhed when her tongue rolled over it, rubbing it rousingly.
Ellen rested her hand on his bare thigh. Robert trembled. She thought that was rather sweet. He gasped when her soft hand moved from his smooth inner thighs to his genitals. Ellen fingered his cock and balls.
She toyed with his penis, squeezing it in her long cool fingers, stroking it like it was a fragile little warm-blooded creature.
She parted his thighs and cupped his balls. They tightened in the sac as they rested on her palm. His cock quivered, jerked.
Ellen stopped kissing him. He was moaning. She put her hand on the back of his head and pulled his face down to her breasts.
The breast cups plumped up her breasts, giving her a deep cleavage. The swelling tops rose out of the cups, while her nipples were almost revealed.
Robert’s canlı kaçak bahis hot smooth face was engulfed in the warm softness of her bosom. He gasped, almost weeping as he rubbed his heated face against his mother’s flesh.
Ellen, smiling with satisfaction and ever-mounting arousal, stroked his shoulders and back.
Her nipples tingled, puckered, stiffened, throbbing, erect.
Her nipples were as fat as thimbles, and were ultra-sensitive. Her breasts wobbled and she pressed up against him.
Ellen slipped the straps down off her shoulders, then tugged the cups off her breasts, baring them. They tumbled, jiggling freely in his gasping face.
Ellen’s nipples and the rosettes surrounding them were a dark brown color, which made them stand out even more dramatically against her smooth white skin.
She pulled Robert’s hot moaning face between the fleshy mounds, which pressed his cheeks on either side. Her flesh was naturally perfumed.
Her hand fondled his penis, feeling the stiffness of his erection. Smiling to herself, she closed her fist around his cock and squeezed.
“Kiss my titties, Honey,” she quietly urged.
Robert planted dozens of quick kisses on the mounds of flesh. The boy’s initial reluctance was washed away as his natural sexual instincts took over.
Ellen cupped her breast, her soft flesh oozing through her fingers as she raised the stiff nipple to his mouth.
After he kissed the nipple, she told him to take it in his mouth and suck it. His lips rippled the nipple, followed by his hot wet mouth.
Sharp stimulating sensations shot through her as he mouthed her nipple, nibbling it, licking it, sucking it wetly and noisily.
Saliva wet his mouth and chin as he sucked his mother’s big, hard-nippled breast.
His penis was hot and hard in her stroking hand. She fingered his balls, driving him wild. She eased his mouth away from her breasts at last.
The lovemaking initiation of her young son was interrupted only for the few seconds that it took for her to shuck off most of her gauzy gown.
The gown was nice, sexy, but selective nudity was even nicer, and much sexier.
Robert stared at her. He had never seen a sexually mature female in the flesh. His thirsty eyes drank in the vision of her lush, full-figured loveliness.
She was kneeling naked on the bed, her hands on his shoulders, her heavy breasts bobbing over his heated face.
Between her smooth thighs was the wide black patch of her bush, and the thick, fleshy lips of her pussy.
She had him down on his back, so that he was stretched out on the bed.
“You trust me,” she cooed. “Your mother knows what’s best for her darling son. Trust me to make this a special day …”
She crawled on the bed, her heavy breasts dangling, her wide plump buttocks rippling, as she moved down to his feet.
Taking hold of his thin ankles, she pulled his legs apart, then crawled up on the space between them. She reached for his cock.
“Your mother’s going to give you a great big kiss!”
She held his cock upright, holding her hand around it so that the top of the shaft and its swollen head jutted from the top of her fist.
She lowered her head, pressed her red puckered lips against the cock head.
She kissed it wetly, making smooching sounds. The cock head throbbed, seeming to swell even wider against her kissing lips.
Her pink pointed tongue darted out from between those ruby lips.
She licked the head of Robert’s cock, dabbing her tongue tip over the tiny slit in the center of the head.
She took the massive cock up to her lips. Robert moaned weakly, then writhed as she rubbed the knob against the slippery roof of her mouth.
She pressed her puckered lips against his shaft, holding it just below the arching rim of the cock head, as she slurped and sucked it.
She took the cock deeper into her mouth, into her throat. She bobbed her head, moving her mouth up and down on his ruby knob.
Robert groaned and shook like he was in a fevered delirium of lust. Ellen’s saliva coated his cock, the fleshy limb massaged by the smooth insides of his lust.
Experienced in the ways of boys and men, Ellen knew that it would not take her son very long to come. That was why she had sucked him off first.
His hips hunched and bumped, shaking and gyrating, instinctively pumping his cock in and out of his mother’s mouth.
His muscular buttocks were clenched, and his back was arched, lifting his hips off the mattress when he drove his cock deep into his mother’s tonsils.
When he was about to come, she took him all the way, stuffing his cock head in the back of her throat, her lips pressing the base of his shaft.
His cock swelled on her tongue like a hose when the pressure is turned on.
He came explosively, his cries of ecstasy told her she had just begun. The semen was ejected in spurt after spurt. Ellen milked him dry, her mouth molded around his member, her tongue cradling the throbbing shaft.
She swallowed his seed eagerly, tasting her son for the first time. The sticky jizz slid slowly down her gullet, thick and dripping.
Robert whimpered as the last convulsions of his orgasm tore through him. He flopped back on the sweat-damp sheets, tension pouring out of him.
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