Chapter 38

Mom just sat there, a small curious smile on her face as she patiently waited for me to tell her all my dirty secrets and desires. I had told her about road head, which sounded amazing if ridiculously dangerous at the same time. She readily agreed to that idea, which had me itching to suggest we go for a drive around The Windy Pines, just so we didn’t have to wait.

Here’s the thing though, now that the door was thrown open and anything I said would be on the table, my mind went completely and totally blank. I am going to blow my chance to have the most amazing summer in the history of teenage guys because I can’t think of anything! What the hell is wrong with me?

Mom must have sensed my struggle because she threw me a lifeline. “You don’t have to tell them to me now, you know,” She smiled, her hand still slowly working my cock. She wasn’t trying to make me come, just keeping my cock hard and ready for when she was going to take advantage of it. “When you think of something, just tell me and if we can, we’ll do it right then. If not, we can plan to do it together later, I promise.”

“I can do that,” I agreed.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

I grinned at that and shifted so I was leaning back on my arms, and thrusting my hips forward, as if I were offering my dick like a buffet.

“That is delicious,” Mom giggled. “But I was thinking about some real food.”

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.” I reluctantly agreed.

“Besides, you’re going to need it. I’m not letting you out of my sight all day because I have plans for that dick of yours. Not to mention those hands and tongue.”

“Mom!” I was shocked at her forwardness.

“Yup, you’re going to need a lot of energy.” Mom got up, leaving my dick to point at the ceiling like a lone totem pole. I had a feeling she was going to keep it hard all day long. I just hoped she allowed me to orgasm, so my balls didn’t ache again. “Do we have any eggs and bacon?”

Mom scrounged up some eggs, a few pieces of bacon, and then three pieces of bread for toast, two of which were the heels. Still, even with as meager as our meal would be, I couldn’t stop smiling. I couldn’t remember a time when I was ever this ... happy.

While Mom cooked, I stood right next to her, watching her every step as she put together our breakfasts. She kept looking over at me and then glancing down as if she were fascinated at the fact that my dick was still standing proudly. It was only when she started cooking the bacon that I wisely took two steps back. Hot grease on bare skin was never good, not to mention if it somehow managed to land on my dick. That would be horrible!

“That’s probably a good idea,” Mom said, smirking as I scurried away from the hot pan the bacon was going to be cooked in. “Last thing we need to have happen is for you to somehow burn that wonderful dick of yours.”

I chuckled nervously. Just the thought of that made me shiver.

“You know, while you’re hiding behind me, do you want to make the toast?” I agreed quickly, thinking that was a very, very good idea. It didn’t take very long for the first two pieces to pop up out of the toaster, perfectly golden brown. “What do you think about breakfast in bed?”

“Sounds good to me,” I replied, buttering the first two slices of toast.

Mom and I talked a little bit about everything while she cooked. The other thing was we didn’t move farther from each other than absolutely necessary, as if we got too far apart, the spell we were under would be broken. Little touches here and there made us both laugh but also just felt good. Having my mom close was great.

We didn’t talk about anything particularly special, just how things had gone this summer for both of us. Mom asked if there was anything she missed or should know about and then Mom telling me about the towns and campuses they visited. All in all, it was really good, open, honest conversation. She was smiling the whole time and I really enjoyed just talking with her so openly like this.

Finally, when everything was cooked and ready, Mom and I plated everything up and took our breakfast to bed. We pushed the pillows against the old iron headboard and used them as back rests while we ate.

“I was wondering,” I asked, between bites of toast. “Did you and Sara ever...”

“Did we what, honey?” Mom asked, keeping her face completely neutral, pretending she had no idea what I was asking.

I knew she was teasing me. I shouldn’t have been nervous at all asking those sort of questions, but I was. I couldn’t help it! Now that I had started that line of questioning, that’s all I could think about. Sara’s face buried between Mom’s thighs ... Holy shit. That made me remember the time Mary did exactly that, it was crazy. Well, Mary was, or probably still is a bit crazy. Then thinking about my mom between Sara’s legs, Jesus!

“Mom!” I groaned. “You know what I meant.”

“I have no idea what you’re asking,” She just raised an eyebrow at me.

“You do too!” I complained, my voice far whinier than I would have liked.

“If you want to know something, just ask me.” She said completely unabashed and unfazed with the direction this conversation was going.

“Fine!” I blushed furiously. “Did you and Sara ever ... umm ... together?”

“I already told you we did stuff together with your dad,” Mom answered matter-of-factly.

“No, I mean, just you two. Without Dad.”

“You’re asking whether or not your sister and I had sex? I guess you would want to know something like that.”

“Hey!” I snapped. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re a teenage boy,” Mom answered. “Obviously, you would want to know if your sister and I had some girl fun together.”

“I mean...” I stuttered, wanting to agree but at the same time hesitant to do so.

“I’m just messing with you, Sam,” Mom laughed. “You don’t need to be so embarrassed about asking me questions like that. It’s perfectly natural for you to be curious and want to know what’s going on.”

“Okay, then did you?” I asked, trying to sound a lot more confident than I felt.

“Yes,” Mom smirked. “I’m not as into girls as Sara, but I’m not scared of them either. Besides, it was Sara’s idea. How could I tell her no?”

“Really!” I asked, my jaw hanging open.

“It was pretty fun, actually,” Mom answered. “I don’t know how often we would do that, but I would do it again if she wanted to.”

“Wow, that’s awesome,” I exclaimed. “I wish I could have seen that!”

“Next time you will,” Mom smiled. “How about that?”

“Yes, please!” My eagerness made Mom start laughing and I blushed, joining her in laughing as well.

“Deal,” Mom agreed. “But for now,” Mom moved her empty plate, setting it on the nightstand and turning back to me and smirking. “I want you all to myself.”

“How about I use my hands and tongue this time?” I asked.

“Mmm,” Mom purred. “That sounds absolutely wonderful.”

“Oh, shit!” Mom screamed, riding her third orgasm in the span of ten minutes. I made her come for the first time with my hands. My left hand focused on her opening, my fingers plunging into her depths over and over while my right hand focused on her clit. What really sent her over the edge was my suckling and biting on her nipples while my hands went to town on her sex.

For the second orgasm I used my mouth, attacking her clit with my tongue relentlessly until she came. The third and final time, I had my fingers buried in her pussy while my tongue continued its merciless lashing of her clit.

“Please, please, please!” Mom begged, writhing before me. “I can’t take it anymore! I’m too sensitive, please stop!”

When I finally pulled my head from between her thighs, my jaw was tired, my tongue felt heavy, and my face was covered in her juices from the bottom of my chin up to the top of my cheeks.

Mom’s body went limp on the bed. She just collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut, her chest heaving as she gasped for breath.

“God, that was ... too much,” Mom said between deep lungful’s of air.

“You didn’t like it?” I asked, feeling a bit cheeky and awfully proud of myself and what I had just done to her.

“Fucking Jesus,” Mom cursed, still not trying to lift her head to look at me kneeling at the edge of the bed. “I loved it but ... you could have ... given me a chance to breathe ... you know.”

“Maybe, next time,” I replied, grinning. It wasn’t even lunch yet, and really, it was only barely past breakfast, and I was already trying to figure out the rest of the day. “Or later tonight.”