Massaging Mrs Lindsay rsquo s GILF Feet
- 3 years ago
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Massaging Not Mom's Feet free porn video
My mom was single, a lot. She had a string of guys, but they were basically awful to her. She won't talk about it, but I know for a fact she was ****d, more than once. Sometimes while I was in the house. By at least a couple guys. Not just, like, home invasions. But just really fucking mean boyfriends who didn't respond well to "no".
Anyway, I was in school, and my mom had been without a boyfriend for a couple years. Probably a good thing for her, really. But at the time it was obvious how much she missed being with someone. That was her main problem, really. Being unable to be alone. And we always got a lot closer during the periods where she was between a guy. Not like hint hint closer. Just, closer. Though I did sleep in her bed a lot more often when she was single.
Anyway, so she'd been single for a couple of years, and she'd been run down because she took this shitty job selling, like cash registers or something, or credit card scanners. It was commission sales. Sometimes we'd be making bank, sometimes we'd be poor as shit. And for the last few months before "it" started, we'd been in the poor part.
So my mom had been home from work for a few days, and it was summer vacation for me, so I was home alone all the time. Now, one last note before I actually get to the story. I'd just discovered masturbating. And I masturbated a LOT. And I don't think I had an i****t fetish at that point, but my mom was the only woman I knew. So I masturbated in her room a lot, and... and well, I used her vibrator. I was young (18), and I just liked to hold it against my penis. It smelled good to me, though I didn't know why. And I'd just turn it on and just hold it against myself until I came all over myself (and it). Looking back with both embarrassment and arousal, I realize my mom had to know. Had to. I pretty much never put it back right. She probably at that time just didn't want to embarrass me, though.
So ANYWAY. I'd been masturbating a lot, and using my mom's stuff to do it. My mom had been feeling like shit because we were poor, and she'd been single for two years. And there we were on a summer day with absolutely nothing going on. My mom had been in her room all day, and I was just playing counter-strike on the computer. Occasionally she'd come out to get a drink or something in her pajamas, kiss me on the cheek or hug me, then go back to her room. And that was it. Until about mid afternoon, and she calls my into her room.
I get in, and she's under the covers up to her neck. The tv is on, pretty loud, to one of those cable music channels. What's more, the pajamas I'd seen her in previously were on the floor tucked under the bed, so sometime recently she'd changed her clothes (I had figured).
She tells me she isn't feeling well, and she'd like it if I gave her a foot massage. There's the lotion. It was the aloe vera kind.
I start getting to work and my mom says she's just gonna try to relax, and she pulls the covers over her face, which was weird, but I figured it was like those sleeping masks.
I got to work giving possibly the worst foot massage ever. Until my mom started giving directions.
"Harder, baby".
That sounds erotic, and looking back, I know that my mom was choosing her language intentionally so that I wouldn't be tipped off to what was going on in her mind. But she was directing me how to give her foot massage from under the covers in directions and language that only as an adult do I see what was happening. At the time I just thought I was shit at foot massaging.
"Harder, baby. Like that. Higher. Right there. Move around, yeah. More lotion, wetter."
At first, there was absolutely nothing else untoward going on. If I even had an inkling someone wrong was happening, it would have all been in my mind. Until.
Motion. Under the covers. Between her legs. I knew exactly where.
Now, obviously the first time I noticed I figured she was just adjusting the blanket. But it happened again. Then again. Not rhythmic or vigorous. It was barely motion at all, and it was very slow, with lots of time in between. But it was clearly happening. I didn't say anything. What do you say? There isn't porn instincts in those moments. I wasn't weirded out by it. I wasn't turned on. I was just... watching it happen. My mom couldn't see that I could see, but her hands were all I was paying attention to. I started to get a reaction, but it wasn't strictly arousal. It was more like... morbid curiosity. Like... like turning the corner to see a car wreck you don't want to see. Or lifting a rock you know you don't want to lift. Or walking to the principal's office. It was just this super heightened anticipatory sort of feeling. A head-rush sort of feeling. One of my most persistent masturbatory fantasies is to time-travel back to that moment as myself, rip away the covers, and just... well it varies. But there's a lot I could have done.
All of that came to a head when suddenly the song stopped. See, all of this had all happened in maybe like 4 minutes. Which was the length of the weird fucking morning/elevator soft-rock. The room got silent, and the only thing I heard was a buzz. Just for half a second. And there was a quicker motion under the covers than before, then the buzzing stopped. My mom tensed and froze up for a second. Then another song started, and she relaxed. And I noticed the motion continue. I started massaging more loosely now, moving my hands a lot more, whereas before I was so distracted I barely moved my hands at all, just massaging the same spot over and over until my mom said something.
But that moment happened. My mom was masturbating. With her vibrator. And I knew what it looked like. My mom's head was still under the covers so she couldn't tell that I was like, dead-eye staring as if I had x-ray vision right to where I knew her hand was maneuvering that purple toy. It was just... I just didn't know what to do.
My mom asked me to switch feet. And she moved, for just a moment lifting the blanket between her legs that had been resting flat on the bed. I couldn't see anything under there, but I tried. I still wasn't aroused. But I just knew what was happening and I wanted to be a part of it. I was literally like a moth to a flame. I just didn't know what to do. Then my mom told me.
"Higher."
Her ankles, she wanted me to massage her ankles. So I did, as my eyes stayed fixated on her crotch, that had begun moving more noticeably.
"Higher."
Her calves. OK, I started to massage her calves. I needed to lift the blanket to get to them, but as I started she jerked back.
"No, baby. I'm cold. Leave the blanket on? Just massage under the blanket."
Massage under the blanket?!
Let me tell you what that entailed. I don't know if she even realized this. But let me fucking tell you.
I was kneeling down at the foot of her bed this whole time. To massage her calves with my hands under the blanket, I was resting on my elbows, leaning forward over her leg, which was under the covers. Which put my face? My face? Little more than foot away from her undulating crotch. It was just fucking... I could barely understand. I still didn't have a real reaction. I was just staring. And her hands were working more than before.
"Higher."
Her knees. She wanted me to start massaging her knees.
"Higher, honey, please?"
Her thighs. I started to feel almost queasy. I wanted to touch it. I wanted to feel it. I could feel her leg moving with the motions I could see from above the covers. Just as I started, just as I started moving my hands above her knees her toes started curling, and she just shook and shot up, blanket wrapped around her, and she pushed me away.
The spell was instantly broken. I thought I'd hurt her. I thought I'd done something wrong. I thought I was in trouble. I thought she realized how much of a perv I was being. I thought all sorts of things. I just knew in that moment I was wrong, and in trouble. I knew that I had been too curious. I knew she could read my mind and I was going to be grounded.
But she didn't have any reaction at first, she just sat there like she'd stubbed her toe. It was maybe 8 or 9 seconds before she thanked me and asked if I'd go get her a drink.
When I came back, she was dressed in the pajamas that I had seen peeking from under her bed. So it was then I was sure she had been nude. It was still too much for me to understand. She thanked me and asked me to leave. I didn't really see her much the rest of that day. Dinner was one of those stouffers tv dinners. And the next day she went to work before I woke up. Which wasn't all that abnormal, really.
While she was gone the next day I went back into her room. I was only just starting to work out my feelings about what I knew had happened the day before. I looked for her vibrator, but I couldn't find it. It wasn't in her usual spot. It had been in the same place for months, but now it was gone. I couldn't be deterred. I looked everywhere. Eventually I found it in a shoe box in the corner of her closet. With the lotion I'd used.
I did my usual business of coming basically all over her vibrator. But after all the energy I'd built up, I probably came 5 or 6 more times. Over myself, her bed, the vibrator. I just kept reliving the previous day. I didn't know if it was wrong, or OK, or awesome. I couldn't shake the feeling that I was doing something bad. That it was on me. It wasn't a vocal though, it was the language-less feeling that this was my fault. But because of some quirk of human psychology, that was less a deterrent and more a... a catalyst.
She came home that day, I was still in her room, which probably reeked of cum. But she didn't say anything as usual. She sat me down a little while later and asked if I was ok.
"Yeah, I'm fine." (typical response)
"It's ok that you gave your mom a foot massage, right? There's nothing weird about it? I know you're a little old for that."
"No mom, nothing wrong."
"You're ok, though? You're totally ok with giving your me a foot massage?"
"Yeah, mom. It was fine. I don't mind at all. I could do it whenever. It isn't a big deal."
I think at the time, though, we were having two separate conversations. She was trying to suss out if I'd caught anything weird happening. Which of course I fucking had. She wanted to know I wasn't, like... weirded out. She wanted to be sure I only thought it was a foot massage. And I was desperately trying to convince her and myself that I couldn't care less. I thought nothing of what happened. And I hadn't spent the whole day masturbating to that foot massage. It was almost a week before the next one, and it played out almost the exact same way. She came quicker this time, though, because she pretty much got right to the real playing with herself, I could tell. Knowing I didn't mind the first time she felt... more confident? To be honest we've still to this day not really talked about it all.
Foot massages became a regular thing after that. And my mom was always deep under a blanket. Eventually my mom got more... adventurous? Or... experimental? With how she'd be while I massaged her feet. One day she was on a rocking chair sitting up, and was rocking in the chair under a comforter the whole time. Another time she said her back hurt, so she fucking covered herself up in a blanket, and got on her hands in knees with her (covered) ass in the air, feet hanging over the bed. Or she'd be in the rocking chair, and she'd have her legs on either arm rest. Still completely covered by a comforter. No there was nothing lewd about what I could see. But... but fucking still. That one in particular we did a lot.
I can't stress how surreal this was. I promise you that at the time, while it was obviously a little weird... but how it progressed was just so... natural. It was one of those cases where I didn't even realize that anything was wrong until years later. Well after it progressed past blanket-covered foot massages.
I can't write more. I've got to head out in a bit, and I want to have the time to write out the story in full. The foot massages were a standard for maybe almost a year. They slowed down when I got back to school, but my mom didn't get a new boyfriend that whole year. And it wasn't until the next summer that the relationship progressed. Spoiler alert, I pretended to accidentally touch her pussy, and she basically came all over me.
Well, actually, I can write that part out, the quick version. She was on the couch, spread eagle (not that I knew the term at the time). By this point she'd quit hiding that she was masturbating basically. It had been over a full year of this. There was basically no point by now in hiding it. We never talked about it. Never a word was said. But it was just... normal.
Anyway, she was reaching climax, which by now I could tell. I pretended to shift my weight, and I put my hand on her leg to brace myself. This was something I'd intentionally done the past week to prepare for this moment. Then I "slipped". My hand fell onto my moms hand, which was sticky slick. I also felt with the tips of a few of my fingers her bush, and outer labia. It was then that she uttered the first "oh my god" that she'd ever said in a year. And she squeezed herself into fetal position and basically squirt all over my hand. I apologized and mom basically left the room. Later we had a talk about what I did was "ok", that it was an accident. I shouldn't feel embarrassed, and that I needed to be more careful in the future. No talk of what she was doing. No specifics about what I did. And we pretended it would never happen again. But it did, and then more. At first she just wanted me to squeeze her ass. It was one of those, "I know your mom's silly, but I fell down at work today, just squeeze and pull, ok?" By "pull", she meant spread. I was squeezing my mom's ass, and spreading her cheeks. Under covers, so I couldn't see what I was doing. And she was masturbating. Eventually I got brave and snuck a thumb between her cheeks and she just... didn't stop me. I got braver and used the other. Usually she'd push me away if I got too "ridiculous" as she'd say. Not this time. I was actually just thumbing the outer area of her asshole, full on rubbing it, while she came on me again. This time, though, was different. She'd obviously just come, but she didn't want me to move. She made me keep massaging until she came again.
This only went on for another few weeks before I was massaging her ass under the covers when suddenly the fell off. Even know I'm pretty sure it was actually an accident. But it didn't matter. I'd thumbed my mom's ass for a month. I'd helped her come for over a year. And then one day I saw it all. In front of me. My mom, on her bed, face down ass up, hairy pussy in my face. I froze. She didn't.
"It's all right baby. Just finish and then I'll make us dinner."
I did, she did.
She rolled over onto her back, still naked, still uncovered. She beckoned me with her hands to hug her. I did, fully clothed. Her hands were still sticky. She held me close, rubbing her fingers through my hair, tracing along my cheeks. "My little boy." She just held me like that for a while. Eventually kissing my on the forehead. Before getting up and getting dressed like nothing had happened.
I think that's what broke the veil. We had seriously carried on for over a year like nothing weird was happening. My mom was just "silly." We didn't talk about it. We pretended it wasn't happening. Then that happened. It was a turning point. We went back to regular foot massages after a while, but my mom stopped using the blanket. She stopped wearing clothes around the house a lot. I stayed home a lot, too. We carried on like that the rest of the summer, mostly. When it was time to go back to school, we were shopping for school supplies when she said the words that officially changed everything.
"I think it's time I gave you a foot massage for being such a good boy."
Which, I guess I should actually add didn't end in my cumming. She kept me clothed, laying on her bed, and she got naked. She sat on her vibrator while rubbing my legs. It was a pretty bad foot massage all things considered.
So first I'll elaborate on a part that I glossed over not because it was unimportant, but because yesterday I was pressed for time and wasn't planning on covering it anyway.
The first time I saw her nude.
Strictly speaking it wasn't the first time. But the others were completely non-sexual contexts. When you live alone with someone for 4 years, it becomes sort of inevitable that you'll see them naked at one point.
But there's a difference between a corner-of-the-eye glimpse as they move from shower to bedroom, and staring dead-on into their asshole and wet cunt as they masturbate to your touch.
Yeah, there's a little bit of a difference.
So just a bit of re-coverage. This had been going for a while. I don't remember if it was like July or August, but I know it was nearer to the end of the second summer after this all started.
I had started giving my mom "buttocks" massages. Which were at the time normal, (you know, relatively speaking). We didn't talk about it with anyone outside the family, because it was "family stuff".
"Your mom's just silly like that. Don't worry about it. It's really what helps me relax after work. I love you, you know. You love me? I know you do. I never want to make you feel weird, you're my boy. But you're really helping me, understand?"
There was a similar "Are we still OK?" talk like that regularly. Maybe once a week.
I never really spoke during the massages. There was her guidance, or it was silent. Well, except for the sounds of her masturbating. She didn't moan really, ever. She didn't talk dirty, not explicitly. Though she would 'guide' my massages with phrases that could be sexual.
Everything was very... There was a mutually preserved illusion that what we were doing was... was just normal. And that illusion kept for a long time. The word 'sex' or 'masturbate' just never came up. Always 'massage'.
So I'm giving her a buttocks massage, and pretending to completely ignore that I can feel her hand rubbing herself furiously down there. I mean, her hands were maybe 12 inches from mine. But they never touched. I'd spread my fingers out as far as they could go, and on the "in" stroke of the massage, I'd rub her asshole, or the area between that and pussy. Though I still had never full-on actually touched her pussy. I did describe the time me hand "slipped" and I ended up holding her hand that was on it. My fingertips could feel the hair, the stickiness, the skin under it. It was like electric, I could feel the roots of the hair coming our of her pussy, and it was wet. Even with just my fingertips the feeling was more than erotic, it was like skydiving.
But that was a while ago, and it hadn't happened since. I'd settled for rubbing her asshole, and she'd oblige by ignoring that it was happening all together. I was giving her a massage after work. That's all we ever did, and that's what we told each other.
Well, I'm massaging her ass. She's on the bed, mostly flat, but her ass was pointing up in the air, her head was down on the bed, eyes closed. She was completely covered in her comforter.
Ass massages consisted of basically one action. It was the "wax on, wax off" motion, but with squeezing. That's it. One of the more erotic but lesser mentioned about those massages is the sound of the moistened skin (natural lubricant travels in all directions) peeling apart. Often when I spread her ass cheeks out on the 'wax off' motion, I could manage to hear the skin slowly pulling apart. Something about "I'm doing that" made it a visceral erotic experience. I'd get hard during these massages, but her eyes were almost always closed, or her face was completely covered. She barely ever even looked at me. So I'm pretty sure for the longest time, she never knew. Though the way I'd disappear to my own room for whole minutes right after almost ever massage. She had to figure... Like I said. To this day, we still don't really talk about it. Even after it went... further.
So my hands are spreading her ass apart. Pretty roughly, since I still didn't know what I was doing. She was rubbing her clit. I couldn't see anything. Room was largely silent save for skin sounds. Suddenly the blanket begins to shift. It happened like an avalanche, where you see the first snow breaking away, and you only barely have enough time to register what's about to happen before it does.
The blanket had been mostly on the floor, she'd just pulled enough up to cover herself. But I guess with my own motion I'd, dislodged it or something. It just, slid off. Off the bed entirely, and onto the floor.
And there was my mom's ass. And her pussy. And her hand. I froze. I didn't take my hands off. I was just completely fucking stunned. I didn't know what to do. I guess I needed orders. This was new territory. Had I done something wrong? I felt at the time, without any words, "This is all my fault. What have I done. I've ruined it. She's going to be angry at me."
But at first she said nothing. She just kept moving her own hand. A few more moments passed and she said, I'll never forget.
"It's all right baby. Just finish and then I'll make us dinner."
It was part soothing, and part desperate. Like trying to reassure someone when you have to pull a railroad spike out of their leg.
Her pussy looked, physically, remarkably a lot like the hairy ones I'd seen in the porn I'd started to look at. But it was... just right in front of me. I started to massage again. My eyes were completely transfixed on her pussy. Her hands moving around it. Her asshole. I actually stopped touching her asshole then after the blanket came off. It felt different to try to do it when I could see it. I just kept squeezing, spreading, mashing together, squeezing, spreading, mashing together.
It was very shortly after that where she came. She sort of stiffened up like a board, and fell flat against the bed. I'd let go of her ass and she just laid there, shaking for a bit. Which I'd been used to. It meant the massage was over. I was getting ready to leave like normal, when she rolled over and beckoned a hug. She was rubbing my face with her slick hands and repeating, "It's ok, you're ok. I love you. My boy. Thank you."
Then she got up and made dinner. And that was that.
Like I'd said, we stopped doing ass massages for a while, but my mom also stopped using a blanket. She wasn't always nude. She'd wear loose gym shorts, or just underwear. But no blanket. She dressed a lot less, too. It was never "flaunting" herself. It was just another thing that became normal. My favorite were the few times she'd ask for a massage after getting out of the shower.
She'd be wrapped in a towel. But sitting spread-eagle on the rocker, the towel covered nothing. My mom hid her face in the towel while she masturbated, giving me all the time to massage her feet and watch her pussy quiver. It was pretty good, I have to admit. It took a long time for me to 'enjoy' the massages. Since I always felt like in the back of my mind that I was the one being a creep. Or that I'd get in trouble.
I will probably stop here. I realize I haven't actually gotten ahead of where I stopped before. But that blanket-slip moment was sort of a big one, and I didn't explain it enough yesterday.
Later I'll go into more detail about the time she rode her vibrator while massaging my inner thighs, and eventually how my foot massage became thigh massages, became both hands fingering either orifice.
Actually, no. I'll leave you with this, not to be a tease.
During that next school year, her massaging me became the new normal. Often one handed, or riding her vibrator. She'd insist I keep my eyes closed, or look away. Meanwhile she'd positively fucking bounce on her fake cock while rubbing my legs.
Well like normal, these occasions would be silent. I didn't feel privileged to be giving the directions she would give me. I just... let her.
From the very first massage the one thing we never, ever, ever, discussed, were my erections. I got an erection every single time she touched me. And it was just completely ignored. The first couple of times I tried to cover myself with a blanket, but she said "No, baby, that gets in the way, just put it on the floor." And I did slowly. And there, under my shorts. The most obvious erection that ever existed. I tried to check her face for signs of reaction. She never looked at it once. Instead she looked right at me and said, "Lay down honey, close your eyes. Relax." And I did. So I never really knew what her reaction was.
Well this last occurrence was months after this new normal of her massaging me had gone on. And like normal, it was completely silent.
Until she broke that silence.
"Honey, why don't you take your shorts off, they're getting in the way."
Oh. Fuck. But I did.
"Here... baby. This isn't working. Why don't you... why don't you scoot down here."
Scoot down. *Scoot down? There was no scooting down without putting my crotch in her face. I was wearing tighty whitey type underwear, and my erection was pressed to my thigh. I was laying on her bed, she was on the floor. Scooting down meant putting me in a very weird position, but I did.
"Lay back. And don't move. Ok? Don't move. Just lay there, ok? I love you."
She patted my thigh a couple times to affirm what she'd said. I nodded, with my eyes closed.
And she pulled my underwear down. And her mouth went straight to my balls. And she kept it there. Her mouth stayed on my balls for god knows how long it wasn't before I just came. Probably less than a minute. Maybe a little more. She just... sucked. That was it. I could feel her tongue move out and lick below and around, I could feel the tip of her tongue massaging my sack, my perineum. But her mouth never moved. She just sucked and sucked my balls the whole time. I didn't know what the fuck to do. I grabbed the bed sheets as hard as I could and just clenched. One of her hands came up and started rubbing mine, all while she sucked. Then I came. I don't know where my cock was exactly. But I know where it was approximately. Her face. I came, and came. A lot. And she just kept sucking.
Eventually I stopped. And I laid there a long time. She still kept sucking. I didn't want to move until she was done. She kept going another minute or so more until I started to hear her moan. And I could hear her bouncing. I knew what she was doing. But her mouth never left my balls. By now I knew my flacid penis was just...resting on her face. I kept my eyes closed. Her hand was rubbing mine. Then suddenly a super tiny squeal left her throat. He hand clenched my own. And she let go. She didn't move for a minute and neither did I.
I started to get up but she quickly commanded "Stay there".
She got up and went right to the bathroom. I never saw what she looked like. But I could guess.
We went back to "normal" massages after that. But soon... soon that became the new "normal". Not my cock. Just my balls. And she'd just keep sucking until she came. I was never allowed to look at her or anything while it was happening. And we never talked about. By that point there was no massaging at all, really. But we still called them "massages".
Things progressed... weirdly after that. The first time she finally actually touched my cock itself was while she was tonguing my asshole.
I definitely came on her face that time. And you know what she said afterward?
She chuckled and said, "Geez, your mom really is a weird one, eh? Get dressed, I'm gonna make lasagna."
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