Chapter 2

One of the interesting things about sitting down to write is how easy it is to dredge up half forgotten memories. For example, there was an incest kink had always bubbled beneath the surface of my mind. It was during one of Katies cold and indifferent times I accidentally ended up exploring this new excess.

I had long developed a weekly habit of visiting my widowed mother. She and Katie did not get along well. Katie was irked that I had bought mom a house and set her up a monthly allowance, so she didn’t have to worry about anything. I had developed the habit of visiting her to see how she was doing. Our relationship over the years had matured into a comfortable adult friendship. Mom was a librarian, a comfortable middle-aged woman with a zaftig body--big bottomed and full breasted.

I showed up early one morning thinking to take her out to breakfast. She answered the door in a thin nylon nightgown, her hair tousled, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. I’d just woken her up.

She grumbled good naturedly at my early arrival.

“Put some coffee on Mr. Early-bird while I get dressed.”

My filthy mind was instantly checking out how her big titties shown through the sheer material of the gown she was wearing. Mom was in her fifties then. I could perfectly make out her ripened tits as they wiggled and jiggled as she tried fix her hair. She turned and walked to her bedroom. I saw her panties stuck up big crack of her ass as she moved away.

Holy shit.

Instant lust slammed me—nastiness—with a sharp wicked tang of incest.

I went to make the coffee and as women do, she kept talking as she walked into her bedroom. Her voice got fainter and fainter as she moved away.

“What did you say,” I said.

And followed her back to her bedroom.

To see her lift her nightgown off. The dresser mirror reflected her front, her big tits sagged down on her chest like ripe cantaloupe.

I pretended the sight was nothing and kept on talking about Katie being mad at me, etc. As I said we were comfortable with each other.

She looked askance at me invading her privacy, but she didn’t say anything and opened a drawer.

Holy shit. She is letting me look.

I said, “Go ahead and get yourself dressed I’ll buy breakfast.”

My heart was beating a thousand times a minute.

She looked like she was going to say something, instead she went to her dresser bent over and grabbed a bra while I chattered about Katie being mad. Her dresser had a mirror and even though she was facing away from me, I could see her nipples were rigid and erect as we talked.

I watched her boldly, making no attempt to hide my gaze. My mouth was dry. My heart hammering. It was borderline incest.

She put on her bra. I noticed the strap was twisted.

“Wait you’re twisted.” I stepped closer and casually undid her bra, slipped it off those big tits, and undid the twist. I held the ends and she put her tits back in the cups. I latched it for her.

She stood and let me do it. Passive.

“Turn around let me look.”

She turned and presented herself for my glance.

Did she have an examination kink like Katie?

“Nice,” I said.

I gave her butt a friendly swat.

She slipped on a dress; I zipped her up and she was ready.

We never spoke of it.

It was just there.

Some intimacy shared.

But that became a new norm for my visits.

Incest, exhibitionism, and voyeurism had a naughty deliciousness for me and maybe for her as well. Whatever was going on kept going on. I wondered what she thought of it. Mom was the quiet one of her sisters. Very shy. I had no idea of her inner life. The hot romances she read should have given me a clue.

It became a sort of game that ebbed and flowed. I never walked back to her bedroom unless it was to better hear a question from her. I wanted her to ask for it.

Sometimes weeks would go by before she did.

Sometimes she’d be fully dressed when I’d arrive.

Several months passed, then one day things jumped a level.

I arrived on her birthday with two gifts in hand. She was fully dressed. She’d been complaining about being cold at night, so I’d bought her an expensive set of pure silk long underwear to wear to bed under her nightgown.

She squealed went she opened the present. She loved them. Kept running her hands over the fabric.

“Try ‘em on,” I said. Let’s go make sure they fit.”

“Oh, I’ll do it later. Let’s go to breakfast.”

“No let’s find out now. Go get undressed and try them on. I’ll take them back to Nordstrom’s today if they don’t fit.’

“Okay,” she said. And walked into her room still talking.

“What?” I said and followed her. My heart as usual beating heavily.

“Unzip me.”

With shaking hands, I did.

She slipped the dress off. Stood passively as I unsnapped her bra and gently took it off. I saw her eyes watching me. Her big tits swayed and jiggled. Nipples puckering hard.

Ripe woman.

Wordlessly I handed her the top. She slipped the top on.

It fit her like a glove.

“Oooh,” she said and ran her hands over the white silk fabric. I noticed she rubbed over her titties.

“Show me,” I said.

She turned to face me. The silk clung to the slope of her mature tits; gum drop nipples hard as rocks. I ran my eyes from hers down to her tits then to the panty covered mound of her cunt pouched out with pussy hair.

“I like that,” I said. “Now show me, the bottoms.”

“Oh, I do that later.”

“No put the bottoms on, I want to check the fit.”

She started to put them on over her panties.

“No need for panties,” I said. “Let’s see the fit without them.”

Blushing, she obediently slipped her white panties off.

Mmm,” the sound slipped out of me. A glorious black haired cunt. Fuck, she was as sinfully ripe as a late summer peach.

She wordlessly sat down on the bed and slipped the bottoms on giving me a quick view of the thickening pink lips of her ripe pussy. She had an over-sized clit that stuck out like a tiny cock.