Bavi And Pavi ndash Chapter2
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Helping Hand – Chapter 3 free porn video
This is a work of fiction meaning it only happened in my mind and I pass it on to you with the hope that you find some entertainment in reading it. If you have not read chapter 1 and 2 I suggest you start there https://xhamster.com/stories/lending-a-helping-hand-9927678. A quick reminder that Larry was told by his mother to go next door and give their married neighbor a helping hand. He ended up having sex with the woman and when he returned home he heard his mother on the phone getting a report from the neighbor.
Lying there on my bed totally spent from having sex with the married woman next door my fingers ran over the soft silky panty she has stuffed into my pants to remind me of the sex we had shared. They were still damp with her arousal and I knew Mom had seen them sticking out of my trousers when I was pretending to be asleep. But at this moment the touch of the fabric on my finger tips and the thought that her scent was there to be enjoyed and brought my spent cock back to life.
A 22 year old guy is not much different from a teenager that has discovered sex. Arousal is often spontaneous and my cock bulged against the panty still half inside my trousers. Yet unlike an impulsive teenager a 22 year old guy does understand the risk of carnal thoughts and actions when his mother is in the house and likely to stop by his room at any moment.
Yet there was no stopping this impulse as I pulled the panty out of my pants and pulled it to my nose. Helen’s scent filled my head and I knew I wanted her again. My Mom had suggested I give her a helping hand because her husband was off on a construction job. Now I knew she had set it up for me to have sex with the neighbor because that was the helping hand Helen had needed. “Would I need an excuse to return to Helen’s house or could I just walk next door and have her in her marital bed as long as her husband was gone?” I thought as I felt the silky nylon between my fingers and her scent filling my senses.
My cock throbbed and begged me to take action. Yet that slight bit of maturity told me that there was no use in risk getting caught jerking off with the neighbors panties pressed against my nose. I rolled on my side and slid the panty under my pillow and heard footsteps in the hall and realized that I was fortunate to have stopped when I did. My door swung open slowly as I looked sleepily towards the door.
“I hope Helen didn’t wear you out completely,” Mom said with a sly grin, “I could use a helping hand as well when you have had a rest,” She smiled at me and I saw her eyes move to my crotch and knew I was showing my arousal. “Have I ever told you how much you remind me of your Dad, may he rest in peace?” Mom asked it what seemed perfectly normal. “You are a spitting image of him when we met,” she said and I saw her eyes move to the tent I was making in my trousers, “and in more ways than you know.” Her eyes never left my throbbing cock hid in my trousers but clearly visible to anyone looking. “There are things I miss so much…” she said as her voice trailed off.
She smiled broadly as I felt my face flush with embarrassment. It is not like Mom had never seen me aroused, as a teen she caught me several times with my cock in my hand and her panties nearby. Fortunately she had never caught me sniffing them as motivation to cum. But it felt completely different for her to notice my erection and in no subtle words indicate she missed my dad’s cock.
I had never heard my mother talk that way. But then never in the wildest stretch of my imagination would I have thought my mother would have conspired with the neighbor in a way that would lead to me having sex with the married woman next door. For a second I felt like some stud horse that was hired out to breed a mare. As she turned to go I noticed her perfect figure and my mind raced. “Maybe being the neighborhood stud wasn’t so bad.”
My Dad had passed away over 5 years ago leaving Mom to get me through High School and now into college. I had never really thought about the fact that she was left without a sexual partner at a young enough age that she still had needs to be met. She had kept her figure and aside from the fact that she was a little over forty could have easily passed for early 30’s.
Some of my school buddies used to tease about her being a real MILF. I had ignored those taunts and really never studied her figure or lusted after her in that way. I told myself I had used her panties as masturbation inspiration only. I also denied any thought that I had connected her scent to thoughts of actually being with her in bed. I told myself it was the scent of a woman and it didn’t matter who produced the scent. All I knew is it got me hard and my cock would spurt hard whenever I had a panty as my inspiration.
That disconnect I had told myself was true suddenly seemed rather stupid to me. The scent in Helen’s panties was not at all like the scent in my mothers. I had this vivid memory of my mother’s scent and what had just revived my need for sex while sniffing the neighbor’s panties was not the scent I remembered. But it was the scent of a woman and that scent reminded about our incredible sex an hour ago. This erection was all about the scent of a specific woman.
I had jerked off into Mom’s panties since I was old enough to know how to have an orgasm yet had never really imagined being in bed with my mother. Now one afternoon in bed with the neighbor and I was starting to wonder just how Mom would look naked. I lingered in my room for a bit hoping my erection would calm down. But thoughts of fucking the neighbor and then thinking of my Mom in a sexual way kept my erection hard and throbbing. I rolled off my bed and adjusted my stiff cock and headed for the kitchen. I had heard Mom in the kitchen and could smell bread baking in the oven.
Somehow the scent of fresh bread aroused me further. Then I remembered how the sexual encounter had begun next door. Helen had fresh bread and teased me dressed in a slinky gown that revealed her mature figure. Her figure was so similar to my mother and now the scent of bread in my house and an erection that just wouldn’t fade. “I must be one sick bastard,” I thought as I continued to the kitchen.
Yet my mind did drift to a college lecture concerning Pavlov’s dog in which a Russian researcher learned that sometimes the smallest trigger can produce a result in our brain. In my case I had realized during that lecture that I was indeed triggered by the scent of a woman but had not connected it with anything but a need for sexual release and it didn’t matter if was my hand or a college woman in my dorm room.
Now I knew realized that the scent of my mother was one locked in my brain and had noticed subtle differences between hers and Helen’s next door. Now the scent of fresh baked bread made my cock throb harder than it did in my room and I wondered if passing a bakery was going to become a sexual trigger for me.
As I entered the kitchen I could see Mom behind the island wearing oven mitts and an apron and nothing else. Never in my life had I seen even a hint of my mother’s naked body beyond a bit of thigh with a short skirt of an occasional view of cleavage that came into my hormone filled brain as a teenager. This was entirely different, her apron was caught between her breasts giving me a full view of them.
Her pert breasts were topped with pale areolas and very arousing nipples, the nipples I had suckled my first year or so of life. I had no direct memory of suckling her breasts but she had often said, “you were such an aggressive baby when I nursed you,” and then at times she would say, “nursing you was a special time for us.” I would feel a little embarrassed when she’d talk that way, but as her only off spring it just seemed natural for her to talk in a personal sort of way. Whenever she made that statement she would say “us” meaning she felt it was not only special for her but for me as well. I never assigned a meaning to that statement until this moment.
But now my beautiful mother was displaying her body to me and I knew it was on purpose. I was not sure at that moment exactly who had broached the subject of turning me into the neighborhood stud. “Was it my own mother?” I wondered or then I wondered if it was the neighbor that had a sexual need that couldn’t be fulfilled without a man and she worked on my mother to encourage my visit.
Then in that moment of arousal for the neighbor and the sight of my mother all but naked my mind snapped with a deeper thought. “No not possible,” I thought, “my mother would never become a lesbian lover with the neighbor.” I pushed that thought out of my head, I knew I had felt like a pervert thinking of my mother as a sexual being but now putting her and Helen in the same bed?
“Oh look,” Mom said looking up from her apron as she pulled it up past her hairy pussy, “I forgot to get dressed.” The smile on her face was not exactly forced but it was not a smile of a mother beaming with pride over her son or her freshly baked bread. No it was more of a challenge. She had set me up with Helen and I knew at this moment her only intention was to arouse me to the point that having sex between us was inevitable.
I had been in silent reflection since the moment I had seen her pert breasts peeking out the sides of the apron. The scent of the bread filled my head forcing the memory of my recent sex with Helen and now my mother standing nearly naked was repeating the steps used next door. Unlike Helen my mother’s pussy was covered with thick brown hair and for some reason this added to the lust in my mind. “Was it because she was my mother or was it because she was a mature woman?” I asked myself. I had no answer, all I knew was I wanted her even though society called it taboo.
Standing in that kitchen my instant reaction was to pull that apron off of my mother and take her right there on the counter. Little did I know that had been her intent all along? But I guess it was still a bit of immaturity on my part or the raging hormones that fueled my lust that kept me from realizing just how aroused my mother was at this moment. There was no way for me to know her desperation for intercourse that had led us to this point. I knew how lustful I could get when deprived of sexual release but I never associated that same lust with my mother.
I had not said a word standing there in front of her gazing at her womanhood. In my mind at that moment she was not my mother any longer, she was a woman that wanted me and I wanted her. But do I just move around the kitchen island and take her? Or do I let her make the first move? My cock was throbbing and the lust in my mind was taking over any thought process of right or wrong. Yet I wondered if this was a dream, some vision in my mind. Just seconds ago I was on my bed, aroused by the scent of a sodden panty from the neighbor woman.
My head was filled with visions of Helen lying naked as I looked through the window. There was the scent of fresh baked bread and a woman clad in a thin nylon gown that gave me glimpses of her naked breasts. There were her lips on my cock, and then the sex we had shared. “This has to be a dream,” I said aloud.
Mom moved away from the island and I watched her pull the oven mitts off her hands. Her delicate fingers played on the apron tie and then it was gone and she was standing naked in front of me. I felt light headed, almost dizzy. I leaned a hand on the cold granite counter top as I hungrily looked at my naked mother standing in front of me. “This is not a dream Larry,” she said never taking her eyes off my erection that was out of control in my trousers.
She smiled again and this smile was one of wanton desire. Somewhere something had changed between us. I had become a man wanting the woman in front of me. And I knew from her expression that I had become a man she desired for the comfort and pleasure that comes from sexual desire. Then she took a step back from me and hopped up onto the counter top.
She spread her legs apart, lifting her right leg giving me a view of her cleft. Her hair was thick and hid everything except the profile of her pussy. Her tits hung down and begged to be touched, to be massaged, and yes to be suckled by her son. It had been over 20 years since my eyes had seen her breasts and my lips had contacted those nipples. In the fog of my testosterone fueled mind there was this dim memory of the softness of a breast and the rubbery nipple between my lips. “It must be Helen’s breast,” I told myself. “No one can remember being a year old.”
Now I saw her breasts not as a supply of life giving milk but as objects to arouse both of us. And I knew there was no stopping the inevitable. I closed the distance between us and looked into her brown eyes. They sparkled in the light and all hesitation left me in an instant. Our lips met and parted. Our tongues touched for the first time and the lust I had felt was met with the lust of a woman who had not been with a man for over five years.
The scent of the bread vanished. It was replaced with the scent of her perfume and as my fingers slid up her thigh and found the warm wet spot I wanted to explore I could smell her arousal. It was the familiar scent from my teenage years, it was her scent and I was driven as if I was some sex machine, every sense was alive and wanting as my finger found her slit wet and slick behind the hair covering it from view. I slid my middle finger up and down her slit and felt her tremble.
I knew it wasn’t fear or anger, no the tremble was from my touch in such a personal way. Then I felt that place I had been so many years ago. Struggling to leave her womb and now wanting back inside her. I had no thought of time or place. No the only thought was of a woman in need and my lust that was ready to explode.
I moved my free hand to her breast, it was warm and supple and I thumbed her nipple that hardened to my touch. She moved her hand to cup her other breast pushing the nipple up as if offering it to me. She said nothing but it was the look of a mother wanting her son to suckle her breast. My lips went around the nipple and in that instant I was hope again. I was where I was meant to be. Her nipple had nurtured me as an infant and now she had offered it to me as an adult.
There was a hand on my trousers, it wasn’t mine. Then she released her breast and mine replaced hers as I continued to stimulate that rubbery nub. She used both hands to peel my clothes off of me slowly at first and then a mad dash to make me as naked as she was. Her hand was on my cock, her delicate fingers wrapped around my shaft and stroked it, but only for a second. I felt her pull me towards her and then my cock was there, touching the hair, tickling my tip. Her breathing was ragged and then she said it, “Take me Larry, fill me with your cock and don’t pull out until you have filled me with your seed.”
These words were not motherly, they were not nurturing. They were words of wanton desire for a man between her legs and I was there, ready, and willing. I pushed into her, tentative at first, but then instinct took over. My cock didn’t think like a brain, or was it over riding my brain? I thrust into her, feeling the silky smooth walls of her vagina close against my shaft with her slick arousal coating my cock as I penetrated her.
My hands went back to her breasts fondling them as a lover, gone was the sense of an infant suckling a breast. Instead it was a lover fondling her breast in an attempt to increase her arousal and pleasure. And then I was fucking her. Not tentative, no I was fucking her pussy as if she was a college woman that I asked back to my dorm room. The lust in my mind took over and she became my sexual partner. No other pretense came to mind, she was mine and she wanted this as much as I did.
Years had passed as my sexual ability and thoughts had matured. In this blinding sexual moment I realized that the arousal I felt when I sniffed that first panty of hers had been for her, not some faceless nameless woman. I had wanted her then and she was mine now. My cock had never been harder as I rammed it deep inside of her. Our sexual act was one of two consenting adults sharing a long pent up lust for each other.
Mom held onto me, her nails digging into my back and my ass as I plunged in and out of her. I could tell by her movements and her hand grasping at me that she was loving the feeling of me inside of her. She moaned in my ear as she clung to me and then whispered, “fuck me Larry, fuck me hard.” And I did, we didn’t move from that countertop until we had completed what had been building for years.
Mom edged her ass forward, meeting each thrust with her own desire for penetration. I mauled her tits and I could feel her passion build and then there was the sense that she was cumming. She didn’t make a sound but I felt a heat and wetness and I knew I had made her cum. Many describe a woman gripping their cock with their pelvic muscles. I felt nothing like that but instead there was this innate sense that her orgasm had taken over her body and mind. She clung to me with greater intensity with her head buried between my shoulder and neck. And I felt what had to be her tears. I knew there were not tears of regret or sadness, they was the tears of an emotional orgasm with a man she loved.
Then I felt myself reach that same point. There was no stopping this. It was like a freight train rushing along a track, no way to turn right or left, too much speed and momentum to stop or to even slow. My body was on that track, driving forward as my cock rammed in and out of her. And just like a freight train that rumbles and roars out of a tunnel, bursting into the sunlight and exposes its power and speed my cock burst deep inside of her orgasmic pussy.
My prostate jerked so hard it almost hurt as each rope of cum burst out of my cock and filled her pussy with my sperm. The thought of impregnating my mother flashed through my mind and just like that roaring freight train the thought was left behind in and instant as I raced forward unable to stop. I could not have pulled out of her if my life depended on it. She had instructed me not to pull out until I filled her with my seed and at this instant I was doing as she wished. And yes, I was doing exactly what I wanted at this moment.
My cock was hot and hard inside of her as I felt my cum and her arousal coat me in a slimy mess of sexual satisfaction. My prostate was finished but my cock ignored the end of that moment of lust. I pulled back a little, not to remove my cock but to feel the tip of my cock sliding along her canal where I was birthed and where I now had returned as an adult lover. Mom’s hands pulled on me, “not yet son, not yet, don’t pull out. I want to feel you inside of me a moment longer.” Her arms were around me our lips touched again. I had no idea at this moment if this was a farewell kiss or a kiss that would be repeated over and over.
Lying there on my bed totally spent from having sex with the married woman next door my fingers ran over the soft silky panty she has stuffed into my pants to remind me of the sex we had shared. They were still damp with her arousal and I knew Mom had seen them sticking out of my trousers when I was pretending to be asleep. But at this moment the touch of the fabric on my finger tips and the thought that her scent was there to be enjoyed and brought my spent cock back to life.
A 22 year old guy is not much different from a teenager that has discovered sex. Arousal is often spontaneous and my cock bulged against the panty still half inside my trousers. Yet unlike an impulsive teenager a 22 year old guy does understand the risk of carnal thoughts and actions when his mother is in the house and likely to stop by his room at any moment.
Yet there was no stopping this impulse as I pulled the panty out of my pants and pulled it to my nose. Helen’s scent filled my head and I knew I wanted her again. My Mom had suggested I give her a helping hand because her husband was off on a construction job. Now I knew she had set it up for me to have sex with the neighbor because that was the helping hand Helen had needed. “Would I need an excuse to return to Helen’s house or could I just walk next door and have her in her marital bed as long as her husband was gone?” I thought as I felt the silky nylon between my fingers and her scent filling my senses.
My cock throbbed and begged me to take action. Yet that slight bit of maturity told me that there was no use in risk getting caught jerking off with the neighbors panties pressed against my nose. I rolled on my side and slid the panty under my pillow and heard footsteps in the hall and realized that I was fortunate to have stopped when I did. My door swung open slowly as I looked sleepily towards the door.
“I hope Helen didn’t wear you out completely,” Mom said with a sly grin, “I could use a helping hand as well when you have had a rest,” She smiled at me and I saw her eyes move to my crotch and knew I was showing my arousal. “Have I ever told you how much you remind me of your Dad, may he rest in peace?” Mom asked it what seemed perfectly normal. “You are a spitting image of him when we met,” she said and I saw her eyes move to the tent I was making in my trousers, “and in more ways than you know.” Her eyes never left my throbbing cock hid in my trousers but clearly visible to anyone looking. “There are things I miss so much…” she said as her voice trailed off.
She smiled broadly as I felt my face flush with embarrassment. It is not like Mom had never seen me aroused, as a teen she caught me several times with my cock in my hand and her panties nearby. Fortunately she had never caught me sniffing them as motivation to cum. But it felt completely different for her to notice my erection and in no subtle words indicate she missed my dad’s cock.
I had never heard my mother talk that way. But then never in the wildest stretch of my imagination would I have thought my mother would have conspired with the neighbor in a way that would lead to me having sex with the married woman next door. For a second I felt like some stud horse that was hired out to breed a mare. As she turned to go I noticed her perfect figure and my mind raced. “Maybe being the neighborhood stud wasn’t so bad.”
My Dad had passed away over 5 years ago leaving Mom to get me through High School and now into college. I had never really thought about the fact that she was left without a sexual partner at a young enough age that she still had needs to be met. She had kept her figure and aside from the fact that she was a little over forty could have easily passed for early 30’s.
Some of my school buddies used to tease about her being a real MILF. I had ignored those taunts and really never studied her figure or lusted after her in that way. I told myself I had used her panties as masturbation inspiration only. I also denied any thought that I had connected her scent to thoughts of actually being with her in bed. I told myself it was the scent of a woman and it didn’t matter who produced the scent. All I knew is it got me hard and my cock would spurt hard whenever I had a panty as my inspiration.
That disconnect I had told myself was true suddenly seemed rather stupid to me. The scent in Helen’s panties was not at all like the scent in my mothers. I had this vivid memory of my mother’s scent and what had just revived my need for sex while sniffing the neighbor’s panties was not the scent I remembered. But it was the scent of a woman and that scent reminded about our incredible sex an hour ago. This erection was all about the scent of a specific woman.
I had jerked off into Mom’s panties since I was old enough to know how to have an orgasm yet had never really imagined being in bed with my mother. Now one afternoon in bed with the neighbor and I was starting to wonder just how Mom would look naked. I lingered in my room for a bit hoping my erection would calm down. But thoughts of fucking the neighbor and then thinking of my Mom in a sexual way kept my erection hard and throbbing. I rolled off my bed and adjusted my stiff cock and headed for the kitchen. I had heard Mom in the kitchen and could smell bread baking in the oven.
Somehow the scent of fresh bread aroused me further. Then I remembered how the sexual encounter had begun next door. Helen had fresh bread and teased me dressed in a slinky gown that revealed her mature figure. Her figure was so similar to my mother and now the scent of bread in my house and an erection that just wouldn’t fade. “I must be one sick bastard,” I thought as I continued to the kitchen.
Yet my mind did drift to a college lecture concerning Pavlov’s dog in which a Russian researcher learned that sometimes the smallest trigger can produce a result in our brain. In my case I had realized during that lecture that I was indeed triggered by the scent of a woman but had not connected it with anything but a need for sexual release and it didn’t matter if was my hand or a college woman in my dorm room.
Now I knew realized that the scent of my mother was one locked in my brain and had noticed subtle differences between hers and Helen’s next door. Now the scent of fresh baked bread made my cock throb harder than it did in my room and I wondered if passing a bakery was going to become a sexual trigger for me.
As I entered the kitchen I could see Mom behind the island wearing oven mitts and an apron and nothing else. Never in my life had I seen even a hint of my mother’s naked body beyond a bit of thigh with a short skirt of an occasional view of cleavage that came into my hormone filled brain as a teenager. This was entirely different, her apron was caught between her breasts giving me a full view of them.
Her pert breasts were topped with pale areolas and very arousing nipples, the nipples I had suckled my first year or so of life. I had no direct memory of suckling her breasts but she had often said, “you were such an aggressive baby when I nursed you,” and then at times she would say, “nursing you was a special time for us.” I would feel a little embarrassed when she’d talk that way, but as her only off spring it just seemed natural for her to talk in a personal sort of way. Whenever she made that statement she would say “us” meaning she felt it was not only special for her but for me as well. I never assigned a meaning to that statement until this moment.
But now my beautiful mother was displaying her body to me and I knew it was on purpose. I was not sure at that moment exactly who had broached the subject of turning me into the neighborhood stud. “Was it my own mother?” I wondered or then I wondered if it was the neighbor that had a sexual need that couldn’t be fulfilled without a man and she worked on my mother to encourage my visit.
Then in that moment of arousal for the neighbor and the sight of my mother all but naked my mind snapped with a deeper thought. “No not possible,” I thought, “my mother would never become a lesbian lover with the neighbor.” I pushed that thought out of my head, I knew I had felt like a pervert thinking of my mother as a sexual being but now putting her and Helen in the same bed?
“Oh look,” Mom said looking up from her apron as she pulled it up past her hairy pussy, “I forgot to get dressed.” The smile on her face was not exactly forced but it was not a smile of a mother beaming with pride over her son or her freshly baked bread. No it was more of a challenge. She had set me up with Helen and I knew at this moment her only intention was to arouse me to the point that having sex between us was inevitable.
I had been in silent reflection since the moment I had seen her pert breasts peeking out the sides of the apron. The scent of the bread filled my head forcing the memory of my recent sex with Helen and now my mother standing nearly naked was repeating the steps used next door. Unlike Helen my mother’s pussy was covered with thick brown hair and for some reason this added to the lust in my mind. “Was it because she was my mother or was it because she was a mature woman?” I asked myself. I had no answer, all I knew was I wanted her even though society called it taboo.
Standing in that kitchen my instant reaction was to pull that apron off of my mother and take her right there on the counter. Little did I know that had been her intent all along? But I guess it was still a bit of immaturity on my part or the raging hormones that fueled my lust that kept me from realizing just how aroused my mother was at this moment. There was no way for me to know her desperation for intercourse that had led us to this point. I knew how lustful I could get when deprived of sexual release but I never associated that same lust with my mother.
I had not said a word standing there in front of her gazing at her womanhood. In my mind at that moment she was not my mother any longer, she was a woman that wanted me and I wanted her. But do I just move around the kitchen island and take her? Or do I let her make the first move? My cock was throbbing and the lust in my mind was taking over any thought process of right or wrong. Yet I wondered if this was a dream, some vision in my mind. Just seconds ago I was on my bed, aroused by the scent of a sodden panty from the neighbor woman.
My head was filled with visions of Helen lying naked as I looked through the window. There was the scent of fresh baked bread and a woman clad in a thin nylon gown that gave me glimpses of her naked breasts. There were her lips on my cock, and then the sex we had shared. “This has to be a dream,” I said aloud.
Mom moved away from the island and I watched her pull the oven mitts off her hands. Her delicate fingers played on the apron tie and then it was gone and she was standing naked in front of me. I felt light headed, almost dizzy. I leaned a hand on the cold granite counter top as I hungrily looked at my naked mother standing in front of me. “This is not a dream Larry,” she said never taking her eyes off my erection that was out of control in my trousers.
She smiled again and this smile was one of wanton desire. Somewhere something had changed between us. I had become a man wanting the woman in front of me. And I knew from her expression that I had become a man she desired for the comfort and pleasure that comes from sexual desire. Then she took a step back from me and hopped up onto the counter top.
She spread her legs apart, lifting her right leg giving me a view of her cleft. Her hair was thick and hid everything except the profile of her pussy. Her tits hung down and begged to be touched, to be massaged, and yes to be suckled by her son. It had been over 20 years since my eyes had seen her breasts and my lips had contacted those nipples. In the fog of my testosterone fueled mind there was this dim memory of the softness of a breast and the rubbery nipple between my lips. “It must be Helen’s breast,” I told myself. “No one can remember being a year old.”
Now I saw her breasts not as a supply of life giving milk but as objects to arouse both of us. And I knew there was no stopping the inevitable. I closed the distance between us and looked into her brown eyes. They sparkled in the light and all hesitation left me in an instant. Our lips met and parted. Our tongues touched for the first time and the lust I had felt was met with the lust of a woman who had not been with a man for over five years.
The scent of the bread vanished. It was replaced with the scent of her perfume and as my fingers slid up her thigh and found the warm wet spot I wanted to explore I could smell her arousal. It was the familiar scent from my teenage years, it was her scent and I was driven as if I was some sex machine, every sense was alive and wanting as my finger found her slit wet and slick behind the hair covering it from view. I slid my middle finger up and down her slit and felt her tremble.
I knew it wasn’t fear or anger, no the tremble was from my touch in such a personal way. Then I felt that place I had been so many years ago. Struggling to leave her womb and now wanting back inside her. I had no thought of time or place. No the only thought was of a woman in need and my lust that was ready to explode.
I moved my free hand to her breast, it was warm and supple and I thumbed her nipple that hardened to my touch. She moved her hand to cup her other breast pushing the nipple up as if offering it to me. She said nothing but it was the look of a mother wanting her son to suckle her breast. My lips went around the nipple and in that instant I was hope again. I was where I was meant to be. Her nipple had nurtured me as an infant and now she had offered it to me as an adult.
There was a hand on my trousers, it wasn’t mine. Then she released her breast and mine replaced hers as I continued to stimulate that rubbery nub. She used both hands to peel my clothes off of me slowly at first and then a mad dash to make me as naked as she was. Her hand was on my cock, her delicate fingers wrapped around my shaft and stroked it, but only for a second. I felt her pull me towards her and then my cock was there, touching the hair, tickling my tip. Her breathing was ragged and then she said it, “Take me Larry, fill me with your cock and don’t pull out until you have filled me with your seed.”
These words were not motherly, they were not nurturing. They were words of wanton desire for a man between her legs and I was there, ready, and willing. I pushed into her, tentative at first, but then instinct took over. My cock didn’t think like a brain, or was it over riding my brain? I thrust into her, feeling the silky smooth walls of her vagina close against my shaft with her slick arousal coating my cock as I penetrated her.
My hands went back to her breasts fondling them as a lover, gone was the sense of an infant suckling a breast. Instead it was a lover fondling her breast in an attempt to increase her arousal and pleasure. And then I was fucking her. Not tentative, no I was fucking her pussy as if she was a college woman that I asked back to my dorm room. The lust in my mind took over and she became my sexual partner. No other pretense came to mind, she was mine and she wanted this as much as I did.
Years had passed as my sexual ability and thoughts had matured. In this blinding sexual moment I realized that the arousal I felt when I sniffed that first panty of hers had been for her, not some faceless nameless woman. I had wanted her then and she was mine now. My cock had never been harder as I rammed it deep inside of her. Our sexual act was one of two consenting adults sharing a long pent up lust for each other.
Mom held onto me, her nails digging into my back and my ass as I plunged in and out of her. I could tell by her movements and her hand grasping at me that she was loving the feeling of me inside of her. She moaned in my ear as she clung to me and then whispered, “fuck me Larry, fuck me hard.” And I did, we didn’t move from that countertop until we had completed what had been building for years.
Mom edged her ass forward, meeting each thrust with her own desire for penetration. I mauled her tits and I could feel her passion build and then there was the sense that she was cumming. She didn’t make a sound but I felt a heat and wetness and I knew I had made her cum. Many describe a woman gripping their cock with their pelvic muscles. I felt nothing like that but instead there was this innate sense that her orgasm had taken over her body and mind. She clung to me with greater intensity with her head buried between my shoulder and neck. And I felt what had to be her tears. I knew there were not tears of regret or sadness, they was the tears of an emotional orgasm with a man she loved.
Then I felt myself reach that same point. There was no stopping this. It was like a freight train rushing along a track, no way to turn right or left, too much speed and momentum to stop or to even slow. My body was on that track, driving forward as my cock rammed in and out of her. And just like a freight train that rumbles and roars out of a tunnel, bursting into the sunlight and exposes its power and speed my cock burst deep inside of her orgasmic pussy.
My prostate jerked so hard it almost hurt as each rope of cum burst out of my cock and filled her pussy with my sperm. The thought of impregnating my mother flashed through my mind and just like that roaring freight train the thought was left behind in and instant as I raced forward unable to stop. I could not have pulled out of her if my life depended on it. She had instructed me not to pull out until I filled her with my seed and at this instant I was doing as she wished. And yes, I was doing exactly what I wanted at this moment.
My cock was hot and hard inside of her as I felt my cum and her arousal coat me in a slimy mess of sexual satisfaction. My prostate was finished but my cock ignored the end of that moment of lust. I pulled back a little, not to remove my cock but to feel the tip of my cock sliding along her canal where I was birthed and where I now had returned as an adult lover. Mom’s hands pulled on me, “not yet son, not yet, don’t pull out. I want to feel you inside of me a moment longer.” Her arms were around me our lips touched again. I had no idea at this moment if this was a farewell kiss or a kiss that would be repeated over and over.
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