Secret Affections
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Secret Affections free porn video
My hands were resting on my mother's naked shoulders. In some ways it was nice to feel her being close, but I was still trying to getting used to this kind of closeness. Most of the time I was trying to keep my eyes closed and breathe calmly in and out, an occasionally I looked out of the window to my left. It was a perfectly normal afternoon outside, the sun was shining and I actually think even a bird was singing.
"Not quite yet, mom," I eventually had to sigh.
I felt the warm lips moving for a while longer until mom knew she had to give up for now. My mother was naked and on her knees in front of the bed between my legs. Mom had short black hair and her breasts were small and flat, although the nipples were prominent, and around her neck she was wearing a silvery pendant which my sister had given her on Christmas. I tried to avoid looking at the dark bush between her legs, but often I found my eyes drifting towards it before I quickly turned to look away.
Mom was looking at me. She had an encouraging look in her gray eyes.
She was pouting her lips as she said, "It's not as hard as you think. Try to relax and think pretty thoughts, perhaps of some of those girls you like."
"Yeah, I know," was all I could say.
"Are you okay? I'll try it again," mom asked, turning her head from side to side.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," I assured her.
Mom reached for her lip balm and rubbed some on her lips to help them glide better, since she knew she would have to keep going for a while. Then she changed her position a bit and leaned forward. I felt how her lips were adjusting for the right amount of pout at the tip of the penis and how they then started their slide down the shaft. Soon her head was bouncing again.
I'd had a girlfriend for years, Jennie, the girl next door. We had been dating as long as we had known what that meant. Until a few months ago, when she had decided she had a crush on the other guy next door, Johnny the football jock.
Mom hadn't wanted to see me be so sad. She had said it was important I'd have at least one experience like this when I was still eighteen, and that was why her head was now bouncing. Her lips were soft, slippery and attentive, and the rhythm of her head was steady and constant. If only I could have forgotten it was mom who was on her knees there. I tried to think about Jennie and her pretty lips, but that wasn't a good idea either. It felt more comforting to hold my hands on my mother's shoulders and feel her close.
There was an art print on the wall. Mom had put it there, I didn't particularly care what was on the wall of my room. It showed a pot full of colorful flowers. I saw my mother's head moving at the edge of my vision as I was looking at it, and I could feel the patient and constant pumping motion of her lips around the shaft. The glass of the frame showed a reflection of my mother's naked ass and I could see her black-haired head bobbing there too. It resembled some kind of a black-and-white French art film, the kind my sister liked to watch.
"Nnh..." I groaned, and mom immediately started going faster, but I had to touch her shoulder and say, "Wait, mom, wait..."
"What is it?" she wondered and started applying the lip balm again.
I wasn't sure myself, but tried to explain my feelings to her the best I could, "I... don't know. I just wasn't ready. Not yet."
"Oh?" mom said, pursing her lips. "It's all right. I can keep on going as long as need be."
"I know, mom," I said. I was achingly rock hard from the constant fluttering of lips on my shaft, that wasn't the problem.
I could feel my mother's warm saliva dribbling down the underside and then stopping to rest in the shrubby hair of my balls.
"Okay, I'm ready," I said.
When I felt the tingly feeling of that drop going down, and mom touched her lips with her fingers to make sure the balm had made them smooth and slippery.
Now mom started slower, but I could feel her tongue being more active, rapidly moving from side to side and occasionally thrusting out with the motions of her head. She was no doubt hoping this would do the trick, but she knew as well as I did we were mostly dealing with psychological issues here.
Mom had to stop when she started getting tired.
"Don't worry about it. It's going to happen," she said encouragingly.
She got up, and my attention was instinctively directed at the dark bush between her legs, but I quickly glanced away. She went to take a blanket and she set it on the floor so it would be easier on her knees. She also applied some more lip balm, for that soft touch and glide which were so important. Her nipples were big even if her breasts weren't, and the silver pendant shining between them gave me hope for the future.
"Okay, let's try again. Are you ready?" mom asked.
"Yeah," I said.
But after a while, it was apparent this would still take a few more tries, so I was glad mom had put down the blanket to protect her knees.
The fifth attempt after the break was going on when I noticed my balls had started to feel really warm. I moved my legs further apart and shifted my hips a little. I felt mom immediately accelerating the pace when she noticed I was starting to become responsive.
I was so close now, and mom's head was bobbing in a quickening pace.
Suddenly my balls began to throb powerfully and I shouted, "Mom, oh G- Nn-nnh!" as my toes curled violently.
That was also the first time I touched her hair. It was a purely instinctive thing to make sure her lips weren't going anywhere.
The slimy squirt caught mom by surprise after such a long time of trying. She gagged and struggled audibly with the goo in her mouth, but she managed to force it down. After the shock of the initial ejaculation, her head swiftly resumed its rhythmic bouncing motion. Her lips were stroking me effectively, with a firm by soft hold around the shaft, while my balls kept throbbing and firing.
"Nnghh! Nn-nnh!" I grunted deep.
The spurts were weighty and powerful, but a mother just can't spit her son's semen away, so my mother's throat was constantly working while her lips took care of the stroking. Seeing such natural and maternal instincts in action, filled me with warmth and kept my balls pulsating.
It was then that I truly understood the relationship between a mother and her son, and what made mom different from any girl, even someone like Jennie. A son's balls and his mother's throat throbbing in unison was a beautiful and peaceful moment that would be impossible to replicate in any other kind of relationship.
It felt like I shot at least three or four times as much as I ever had when using my own hand. Mom's head was still bouncing, she was making sure my balls were completely empty. It was a nice gesture, and I could appreciate it. She was looking at me while her pouty lips were pumping up and down the length of the shaft. Looking mom in the eyes made my balls instinctively throb hard and fire several more spurts into her mouth, but she didn't mind. I saw motions in her throat, and her lips kept moving.
I was feeling warm and blushed all over when it was finally over. The ache was gone and it had turned into tiredness, but also into a feeling of pleasant calm. Mom didn't have to ask if this had worked as well as she had thought it would. The load I had shot had answered that question conclusively.
Finally, when there was no more sperm to shoot, I could only softly caress my mother's short black hair and whisper to her with a voice full of adoration, "I can't believe you swallowed my balls dry, mom."
Mom blinked her gray eyes and responded, "That's such a sweet thing to say to your own mother. Thanks, kiddo."
When she got up, my eyes lingered on her dark bush again, but I don't think she noticed. I don't know why I kept eyeing her ass when she walked to my desk either. It shouldn't really have been that captivating.
Suddenly mom threw something at me.
"Whoa!" I protested, barely managing to catch the folder full of papers she had tossed to me.
"Now get to working on that presentation you're been slacking off with, before your professor gets mad," mom said.
She had again put on the oversized sweater she had been wearing, so my attention was now drawn to her serious-looking eyes. She could be strict when she wanted to, even if I had tried to say I was officially an adult now.
Yet she was right, of course. My future was important. I put the folder beside me on the bed and started getting dressed. I was already behind on my work, so I had a lot to do tonight.
I got that presentation done with high marks, and it was seven days later when I was attentively watching that black bush again. Mom was riding me, and the movement of her hips was hypnotic. Her nipples were pointy, and the silver pendant around her neck was bouncing up and down between her small flat breasts.
My hands were caressing her hips, and I was trying to move my own in unison with hers even if my lack of experience was showing. I was rock hard and I could feel the hairs of my mother's bush around my shaft as she rode me. It was so warm and incredible in there I could only wonder and breathe deep, my eyes staying locked on that dark bush.
Mom took my hands into her own and said, "How do you feel about changing the position? I think it'd be better if you shoot it in yourself."
"Okay," I said, although I can't pretend I wasn't feeling nervous.
"Missionary or doggy?" Mom asked.
"What?" I wondered.
I knew what she had meant, of course, but it was still weird hearing things like that from your own mom.
"Which position you want to try, dummy?" she said, waving her hands in feigned frustration.
My eyes got big and I bit my lip.
"Uh... I don't know..." I stuttered.
"Okay," mom said and shrugged. She got up and said "Move behind me," and leaned over.
I did as she had said and moved closer, watching carefully where my legs should be going. I sorted them out and attemptedTo continue reading this story you must be a member. Join for FREE here.
Marisol
- 22.06.2020
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- Incest
