Chapter 8

I woke Sunday morning at some point with an erection nestled between Mom's thighs against her pussy and a petite breast in my hand. I was still half asleep, quiet and comfortable, when I felt Mom's nipple tighten, grow and harden. The pressure of her thighs eased and her hand cupped my erection, the head against her palm.

Slowly and languidly we started to move together, my erection slipping between moist labia, warm and inviting. With no fanfare our movements became longer, the crown sliding and rubbing against her clitoris. Mom's fingers pushed the crown deep, pushing me back until it caught at her opening. Slowly, sensuously her vagina yielded to the pressure and I slipped into her incredible heat, soft, velvety soft, silky vaginal walls parting as I slipped deeper and deeper into heaven.

We both paused when I was buried inside her, erection throbbing. My hand caressed her breast. I felt my erection swelling in her tightness, or perhaps Mom massaging. Her hand released her crotch and covered mine, pressing it harder against her breast and pushing her bottom back against me. As if we were talking, we both started moving, short arousing movements slowly growing into long, deeply erotic strokes. Mom was wet, really wet. I could hear the noise, a soft squelching as I stroked in and out of her and the noise intensified my arousal.

I made love to Mom, slow delightful love. No rush, gentle motions. And slowly, very gradually our orgasms stirred. When we came there were no loud sounds, no frantic thrusting, no moans, just incredible, amazing bliss as semen burst deep into her, as she gripped my erection, as I stroked again, semen erupting in beautiful pleasure, Mom's pussy gripping again. We came together for what felt like ages, beautiful, loving climaxes, the most satisfying climax ever.

Gradually I drifted to sleep, my softened erection held inside Mom in a warm wet embrace.

Sun from the window woke me. I was still spooning Mom, the tip of my penis still in her and my hand cupping her breast. I felt relaxed and very happy. Mom had shown me something new, making love. Marvelous. Wonderful. I wondered how much more I could learn.

"I think we're a bit wet."

Mom's voice broke into my musings and, as she squeezed her vagina, my penis was ejected. Yup, we were wet.

"Can we shower together?" I asked.

Before long I was lovingly washing a boob, admiring the nipple as it perked up. "Can I taste it, Mom?"

"Mmmm."

It was surprisingly rubbery in my mouth and it felt much larger. When I added suction it seemed to grow even more. How interesting. The dark areola which had been sort of smooth puckered with tiny bumps when I licked them. When I sucked them and backed off to look they seemed darker and almost raised from her breast. How delightful.

I tried opening my mouth to see if I could get Mom's entire breast in, but couldn't. As I gently massaged it, while sucking her nipple, I noticed that her breast wasn't a uniform soft pad as I expected. I could feel occasional lumps or firmer bits and wondered what they were.

I rather enjoyed myself, moving between one and the other. I tried twirling my tongue around the nipple, and generally having a good time. Until, for some reason, Mom pulled my head away when I playfully nipped her stiffened nipple.

When I looked up in confusion, Mom had that look in her eyes, one I couldn't quite identify.

"Enough, David." She said it rather breathlessly with a smile.

After drying and dressing we were sitting at the kitchen table.

"Mom?"

"Mmmm?" She responded, sipping coffee.

"Why was this morning so different?"

"Well, this morning we made love, David."

"I know. But why was it so different? I want to understand. I liked it a lot."

"I think it has to do with how excited you are. If you're aroused by constant teasing your passion and your orgasm are closer to the surface. When you start from the beginning, those things take more time to build, so you're not as frantic for release. But I could be wrong."

"Is it possible to tease and still make love?"

"Sure." Mom grinned. "With practice."

Practice was a great idea, I thought. But still, up to now I felt Mom was accommodating me, doing what she thought I'd like.

"Mom, you know I'm sort of a happy camper with all this. I mean it's all new to me so everything is fresh and really, really good. But what about you? If you could choose something, sort of a wish, you know, for the two of us, something you'd really like, what would it be?"

"I haven't given it any thought. Hmm, let me see. Well, if I had to identify something I'd say it would be..."

Then she told me. Jesus Christ. I mean, Jesus, Mom?

She made me wait. Next Friday, she said.