Scratch n Dent Kid
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My Mother's SonChapter 6: You Scratch My Back,... free porn video
One of the duties I became accustomed to performing was to scratch my mother's back. Usually in the evening, she would summon me and absentmindedly tell me her back itched and would I scratch it for her. She would continue reading or doing some homework while my fingers roamed over her back, gently scratching and rubbing. I knew that she got pleasure from it from the occasional moans she would produce between directions of higher, lower, harder, more, etc. Usually it ended with her thanking me and hugging me or tickling me or scratching my back.
One night, she wasn't satisfied with my scratching through her blouse.
"Here, sweetie, put your hand down my back." She unbuttoned her blouse a little to allow me room and I slid my hand down the smooth warm surface of her back and began dutifully scratching. She unbuttoned another button, and my eyes flew to the deep secret valley between her breasts. The white band of her brassiere was at the end of a canyon of soft feminine flesh. I could see the taut cups surrounding the beautiful breasts and had an unusual sensation of pleasure. At the same time, my fingers came to the barrier of her bra strap in the back, another of those mysteries that women have for young boys.
I know now that I was fondling it each time I came to it. At that time, I just knew that I liked the intimacy that touching her underwear under her blouse provided. She continued what she was doing, occasionally giving me a word of encouragement, or sighing a little moan of pleasure. It was all very pleasant, really, and I became quite enamored of her brassieres and came to know them by feel as well as sight.
So began my fascination with her pretty underwear. When I was alone in the house I could not resist going to her room and looking through her drawers. I would hold them up and imagine her wearing them, and rub the silky ones against my face. As time wore on I also rubbed my cock in her panties and stockings. At least one time I had taken a lot of them and thrown them on the bed, took off my clothes and lain in them. It was sensational.
"Well, it's been three years since Daddy died," she said rather suddenly. "Auntie Mame says it's time I started seeing other men. I hope you won't have a problem with this, Charley. I have sort of a date with a man, this Friday. OK?"
I had got used to the idea from hearing Auntie Marie talk about it for months, but still, it was a funny feeling when I realized that she was actually going to start dating. I tried to think it was nothing, but it wasn't that easy. The night came and I endured saying hello to him and watching as they drove away.
The house seemed overwhelmingly quiet as I ate the pizza and then turned on the TV to watch a movie. When it was over I put on pajamas and settled on my bed to read a book. But something troubled me. Not ready for sleep, too distracted for reading, I wandered aimlessly around the house and ended up in my mother's room. The light was on by her dressing table and a pile of underwear formed a frothy heap on the table where she had changed her clothes. The dark pantyhose were topped with a pair of pale pink panties thrown carelessly in a little ring on top of the stockings. I sat down and stared at the sensual display. Slowly, I ran my fingers through the incredibly delicate and silky things. Her bra lay there too, looking for all the world as if her breasts were still in the plain silken cups. I touched carefully so as not to disturb them, imagining that the cups were still full and my hands were fondling real flesh under the silk.
I put her panties close to my nose and inhaled the scent of her along with perfume or bath soap whatever it was and examined the nylon garment. I read the tag, Vanity Fair, size 7. A dusky pink color, quite plain, with elastic running under a sewn hem at the waist. A cotton panel inside between the legs was covered by the outer panel of nylon; I imagined what that must feel like over the imagined soft folds of her pussy. The legs were circled by an expensive looking elastic with a row of decorative stiches. They were not brand new, and not at all old looking. The crotch showed a crease down the center as it it had been pressed between her pussy lips and bore the faintest evidence of having been worn today. A fine line of white had dried along the crease. I was interested and smelled her on the crease but it was just another of those mysteries about women to me.
My cock jutted out of the fly of the pajamas and I draped the stockings and panties over it. I became even harder, even more excited. The nylon caressed the head and made it seem more sensitive.
I tasted one of her lipsticks, imagining what a real kiss would be like. My hand began moving in the pile of silk, rubbing up and down the rigid flesh of my cock. Every nerve ending in my body trembled, sitting there tensely thrusting into her panties. It felt delicious. The thrills continued and I stroked a little faster. The length of stocking leg slipped from my grip and overflowed down my leg as I fucked into the soft sensual undies. My body tensed and strained against the vagina of my hand in the panties. My stroking arm tensed and I felt my toes pointing deep against the back of the dressing table. And then it happened. I couldn't hold back. I couldn't pull the pretty things away, I shot my cum into them and the wet spot spread and spread as I stroked to completion.
I actually thought that I had urinated since it was the first time I had jacked myself off. I looked at the pretty underwear draped over my hand. Pretty and feminine, but now fouled with this strange smelling sticky stuff from my penis. It was a disaster. I was embarrassed, baffled, scared, all in one overwhelming emotion. I searched all the playground comments I had pretended to be knowledgeable about. So this was what they were talking about! Well it felt good for a moment, but I didn't know what trouble it would lead to.
The immensity of the problem settled over me. I couldn't leave the soaked panties where she left them. What to do. No time to wash and dry them. I was caught. I took them into the bathroom and started to drop them into the hamper, then stopped. No way would she be fooled by me putting them here. In the end I decided to put them back where she had left them and hope she didn't' notice the cum splattered on both pantyhose and her panties. I hoped they would dry by the time she picked them up.
I was very worried as I crawled into my own bed. But I was so relaxed by this time that I fell asleep. I was wakened by the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. I lay there quite awhile, but she didn't come in, and so I got up and went to the window. The night was brightly lighted by a full moon and the car was dark and silent. I watched. I waited. I imagined what was happening in that car. Was she alright? Was he ... well, I didn't really know quite what he might be doing, but the schoolyard stories of what sex was were tormenting my adolescent mind. I tried going back to bed, but that was useless. I watched from the darkened room for awhile longer and finally, he got out of the car and came around to open the other door. They came up the stairs and I heard the front door open. The door closed quietly. I could hear whispered conversation. I held my breath to hear better. Finally, I crept out of bed and tiptoed down the hall, then lay on my stomach to creep closer for a look. There were no lights on, just the light streaming in from the light outdoors.
The two of them were in an embrace by the door.
"No ... we can't ... Charley will wake up." I heard my mothers hushed voice.
They kissed and I watched as the stranger's hand slipped lower, cupping my mom's bottom. He moved it across the expanse of her bottom, slowly, caressingly. Her hand found his and slowly pulled it a little higher on her hip. He tried to move it again. After a time she moved his hand againa. My heart was beating wildly. Jealousy? I didn't know what it was. Anger?
"No, Tim, I have to get up early in the morning. And besides, we'll wake him up."
"But Ellen. Please?" he begged.
His hand was pulling up her skirt in the back and then her panties were bright in the dim light. His hand fondled her bottom, separated only by the nylon of her panties.
Bree
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