Copyright© 2004

There was an old man of Duddee
Who came home as drunk as could be.
He wound up the clock
With the end of his cock,
And buggered his wife with the key.

Mother looked up from where she sat on the stool before her vanity mirror as I approached from behind. Without my shoes, I walked softly across the hard wood floor like a memory out of my youth. She watched me with her wide green eyes, a smile pleased, but nervous, smile on her full red lips.

It had been a delightful evening. Just a mother being spoiled by her loving adult son. We dinned at a fine restaurant that mom would never have been frugal enough to enter if I was not paying - we danced to ancient tunes played by an ageing piano player and his young sexy lounge singer. Mother drank at least six glasses of fine wine - most of the bottle that I had bought. And we ate several courses of exquisitely prepared food.

All according to plan.

I stopped my approach as soon as I stood behind her, staring back through the mirror at her questioning gaze. I slowly brought my hands up to lay upon her thin white shoulders - the blouse from earlier in our evening already discarded. The elastic straps of her brassiere contrasting with the smooth cool skin that seemed harsh in some way.

It was never odd to see mother dressed this way growing up, partially clad in a slip and bra - but there was never any nudity, though I certainly tried. I could feel a certain awareness of her half clad state, even more than usual - with her wearing her black nylons, slip and bra.

Slowly bending at the waist I brought my warm moist lips to the nape of her neck, her skin feeling cool. The kiss was done very lightly but I felt her quiver before me. Mother smelt as I have always remembered, the lingering perfume mixed with her expensive organic bath soap.

I pressed my cheek gently against her own, my eyes again capturing hers in the mirror.

She was looked nervous, uncertain and perhaps a little dizzy with wine.

With her watching me, I moved my eyes down, so that the mirror returned the sight of her 'C' cup breasts. The black lace bra giving just a hint of the darker shade of her nipples. The flesh pressed together between those two points into a generous pale cleavage that no male could not fail to appreciate.

My hands slid down her smooth thin shoulders almost to her elbows. I felt her shiver again, goose bumps rising upon her flesh, as the hands slowly but purposefully moved in and up. A loud gasp escaped her as I grasped both covered breasts from beneath, squeezing them roughly and possessively until that delicious valley was an obscene canyon.

Again I kissed mothers neck, her head turning away to arch it toward me.

When I looked up at her face I saw that mother had her eyes tightly closed, her mouth open as her chest rose and fell within my arms. In the palms of my mauling hands I felt the nipples rise, poking me through the thick fabric of her undergarment.

The lips were moving but nothing came out for several seconds, and when it did, it was but a whisper, "... please stop... !"

So I did.

Mother's eyes snapped open and her head returned to the upright position, her surprise at my retreat obvious. Was she disappointed as well?

My hands trailed slowly southward, across the small soft roll of flesh marked with the lines of childbirth and age. She did not look at me, but at my hands - her nervousness quickly returning.

But the hands slide to the sides before reaching her lap, touching her firmly on her upper outer thigh. The black satin slip cool to the touch, the nylon beneath obvious. My fingers began to pull the loose light fabric up those full soft thighs.

Mother had looked at me throughout this evening with love and pride. Showing the first real happiness that I have seen in her since I was a middle teenager. She had been touching me constantly - holding my hand walking from the car to the restaurant, my arm about her waist waiting to be seated at our table, sitting with our knees touching at the tiny intimate round table, and on the dance floor both of us using our bodies and hands liberally. Almost as if mother was using me for protection, afraid that our fun was only a dream.

Don't mistake me - mother never intended what I was doing to her now - this is all my initiative, taking this to a place that I have fantasied about for many years.

As the slip normally hung just beneath her knees, it took a while to bundle it up to her waist - as I purposefully did it ever so slowly. Mother was breathing heavily, her eyes wide and watching her own black nylon covered thighs appear.

When the cool black satin was as high as I could make it, as mother still sat frozen, my hands slipped forward and took a handful of soft thigh-flesh.

There was no resistance within mother as my large strong hands spread those knees shoulder-width apart. My paws groped the soft nylon covered flesh of her inside thighs. I felt her spread her knees a few centimetres further. Anxious for more of my hands perhaps?

I did not disappoint - rapidly I slipped one hand deeper into the valley of her thighs, suddenly cupping the covered flesh of her sex.

Mother gasped loudly and then clamped her thighs shut, trapping my one hand against her groin.

Though what I had just done amazed me - cupping my mother's sex - there really was nothing to feel. She was obviously wearing a panty beneath the black waist-high nylon, and all I felt was the smooth warm tightness of her undergarments. It was the reality of where that hand was that shocked and thrilled me.

Mother's eyes were again tightly closed, her head threatening to fall back upon her shoulders.

I spoke firmly and directly into her ear, "Spread your knees again mother!"

Even as she gasped in response, "No... it would be wrong...", her knees spread further than they had been seconds before and her torso fell backward into my own, leaning into my chest, her head as if lifeless had fallen to my wide strong shoulder.

My second hand had risen, slipped quickly back to the covered breast.

Now I properly mauled my own parent - her hips beginning to move, thrusting forward in the stool, into my hand. She was gasping loudly and saying my name as a whimper again and again.

Then, as suddenly as I had started, my hand removed itself from between mothers shapely soft legs and back up to her breast. She was getting really worked up and quickly, knees wide and continually humping the air as my hands mauled her chest. My chest, though, gently pressed her back up to a sitting position.

Mother had confided in me tonight, after the fourth full glass of expensive wine, telling me that she knew why I just happened to walk in to her bedroom when she was half dressed for all those years between puberty and leaving home. Rather than be disappointed or disgusted, my first guess if I had to make one, she felt rather flattered as my father had stopped touching her before I hit middle school. This information was unexpected, not part of the plan, but had given me a desire to continue with my plans.

I did learn that she had assumed I had 'grown out' of that obsession years before - she aged noticeably since the divorce, my string of girlfriends, leaving home for college and then work, and simply the lack of trying to see her in various states of undress. She had been red of cheeks when she revealed all this to me across the candle lit small table.

Though taken unawares with her admission, I recovered quick enough to tell her that I never 'grew out' of my desire for her. That took her by surprise and she downed the last half of her glass of wine without even swallowing. Her whole face was red when she stared at the candle, rather than look at me, and asked me not to tease an old woman.

"Look around mother - these people have no idea who we are? They just think I'm a guy with a sexy woman who is going to get lucky tonight!"

She squealed in pleased surprise, her bouncing eyes finally catching my own. "Jason!"

That is when the petite giggles began - mother laughing into her hand for the most part - while staring at me through her carefully blackened eye lashes. "Well mom, will I get lucky tonight?" I asked bravely, playfully.

She giggled again and leaned in, "You are so naughty today Jason!" But I could see that she was pleased nevertheless.

The dances after that conversation were more intimate, our fronts pressed tightly together, my hands roaming from her shoulders to just where her ass began to slope out and downward. Oh, I was the perfect gentleman - but something had changed, perhaps in me and perhaps even within mother.

When mother opened her eyes finally, possibly to see why I had let go of her black lace covered breasts, she looked feverish and desperate. She was a woman that needed this - even if the source was from her son... perhaps it meant more, because it came from her son.

My hands reached around and began to fumble with the three clasps holding the black brassiere together. No matter how many times I had done this with prior conquests, I hate the fucking things.

Mother, to my great pleasure, did not laugh at my adolescent fumbling, and just stared at me through the mirror, sitting upright, with hands flat upon the top of the table before her.

"Do you want me to stop mother?" She did not say a word, and just continued to stare at me with a odd wild look in her blue eyes. My hands gently pressed the unclasped halves apart, moving up to slip the harsh straps from her pale smooth shoulders. Again I pressed her, "Last chance mother - after this, nothing will be the same?"

The seconds turned into a full minute as our eyes were locked together - until I was certain of her answer.

Mother's right arm rose quickly and crossed her breasts before the bra fell, holding it strategically in place. Of my question - nothing.

It was at that point she mouthed 'no' to me in the mirror, worry now entering into her gaze, her head moving slightly side to side.

She was too late - I had come to far to stop now.

Stepping back I reached forward and roughly spun mother around by her waist - the stool before her vanity being an old wooden affair with a free-turning seat and no back. It had been my grandmothers, her mothers, and it had aways been something special in my moms life.

I gripped her knees, which she had again pressed together, and stopped her spinning as soon as my mom was facing me. Her eyes were looking at me with something like guilt mixed with pleading.

"How long has it been since you have been with a man mom?"

We both knew how long - she had revealed it to me over dessert - five years. She looked embarrassed when she had told me, but I was not sure if it was because of telling her son that she had been sexually active after her divorce or that it had been so long since she had sex. She had asked me about my recent experiences - and starred wide-eyed as I told her about my current girlfriend and how she likes to do it in public places.

"Do you always use protection Jason... ?" She had asked, trying to act the parent. I just laughed at her while nodding in agreement but admitted that we often do it in ways that it was not possible to get pregnant.

Mom turned away at my malicious question but then immediately turned back with worry upon her brow when I slowly stood up before her.

Her eyes watched my hands reach down to my waist, my fingers expertly but slowly unbuckle, unzip and open the flap of my pants. Then I pulled it out - holding my half hard member firmly in my fist.

Mother was all eyes, the whites bright in the dim room, as she starred directly at the circumcised head of my cock. Up and down my fist went, expertly stroking it to a fully erect state.

As mother and I had drank our after-dinner-coffee's at the restaurant, I had let my hand casually hold her upper thigh. After some time, I had leaned in and pretended a pout as I whispered, "I wish you had worn stockings and garters for me tonight mother?" Her only response was to turn another shade of red and a small pleased smile that she tried to suppress. Not long afterwards, mother had admitted that I was making her feel 'sexy' and that she had forgotten how good it felt.

It took little effort on my part to prepare my cock - and let it go seconds after stroking it. It was on the upper end of average and when hard, had a slight upturned bend in it as it stood forty-five degrees from my body.

Standing as I was, I could feel mother's warm breath upon it - as we both froze, partaking the moment.

My large strong hand rose and gently lay upon the top of my parent's carefully prepared head of hair, still perfect after our long evening together. Her shoulder length hair had been teased for at least an hour before our dinner date.

Having always been a fastidious person with her appearance, I was surprised that mother did not at least wince as my hand pressed through the hair to grab the back of my parent's head firmly.

Without moving my own body, I pulled that head toward me... toward my cock. Only then did she resist, trying to slow her descent. Of course, she was unsuccessful - I simply countered her resistance with my strength. Just before mother was in danger of becoming acquainted with the head of my penis, she whimpered, "I can't Jason... !"

But the smooth pink crown of my cock touched the red lipsticked full lips, having reapplied it numerous times through the evening, and pressed smoothly past and into her mouth.

Throughout the evening I had teased mother numerous times about her sexy red lips - finding any excuse to kiss her red lips frequently. At first she enjoyed the game, pouting and kissing me back - laughing at the red marks she left on my own lips. Later in the evening, she had become uncomfortable when my teasing had turned a corner - telling my parent that I knew exactly what her lips were good for, letting our lips linger long past propriety's sake. Her eyes had checked out my crotch so many times through the evening, there was no mistaking where any of my bawdy comments originated from.

Mother's eyes rose now, trying to see up past my arm, trying to plead with me with her gaze. "Suck me mother!" My hips began to dance - moving back and forth slowly and smoothly. I watched enthralled as my dick moved in and out of my mother's attractive aged face - her eyes slowly closing and her lips clamping shut so that her mouth could apply suction. My second hand rose and also held the back of her head to steady it, my hips thrusting more aggressively as I fucked my mother's mouth. Mother was sucking hungrily now, her tongue teasing me on the other side of her lips.

"Fuck that feels good!" I gasped uncontrollably.

I had a difficult time keeping my own eyes open, but I saw her looking up at me, the pleading gone leaving only pleased amazement. Past her sucking lips, I saw that her arm had dropped from her torso and her full pale bare breasts bounced as I thrust aggressively forward.

That was enough to push me over the edge - the sum of our evening, the looks, suggestive touches and even the way she looked at me through the night. She starred at me with wide pleased eyes, as if I could do no wrong.

Why else, do you think, I would I have the balls to seduce her tonight!

Even as I felt the tightness build toward the inevitable, I wondered if mother ever had a cock in her mouth before.

That thought, the sight of mother's wide eyes, her sucking lips and the distant glimpse of bare breasts bouncing beneath me was enough to finish me off.

The first blast must have bruised my own mother's tonsils, as my body contorted and jerked so violently. The spasming and jerks afterwards were but a shadow, but the full load of my seed pumped again and again until even I was amazed.

Only then did I realize mother was trying to talk with my dick in her mouth, her throat simultaneously swallowing and gagging. My eyes opened to see that my sperm was leaking from both edges of her lips, a few drops falling to that pale tit-flesh below.

I gently pulled my slowly diminished penis from my mother's mouth - she gasping suddenly for breath, trying not to cough as a river of my juice escaped from her still open mouth falling to her breasts and to the hard wood floor between us.

My first reaction was to apologize, but I knew the best way to gain mother's total acceptance was to carry this evening to the summit of incestuous desire.