Chapter 20

I woke up early and went to the coffee maker in an attempt to make the drink Grandma had shown me. We didn’t have the creamer needed, French vanilla. We didn’t have any creamer at all, actually, because Mom and Dad drank their coffee black. There was milk in the fridge, but Grandma had told me it wouldn’t be the same and to not try it.

“Good morning, did you make me coffee?” Mom said as she came up behind me.

“I was going to make myself some, but we don’t have what we need.”

“When did you start drinking coffee?”

“This summer. Everyone drinks coffee.”

“Ha, that’s not true at all, but a lot of people do. That’s for sure.”

“The way you drink it is awful, but Grandma’s way is great. We just don’t have what I need to make it.”

“What do you mean we don’t have it?” I turned to see Mom looking at me with a questioning look. “There is coffee, sugar, and even milk in the fridge.”

I know, but I like how Grandma makes it, and we don’t have the creamer.”

“Ahh,” she chuckled. “She gave you her famous coffee, I take it?”

“Yeah, it’s really good.”

“Your dad used to love it, now he likes it black, just like me.” Mom smiled. “I will have your dad get the right creamer for you, okay?”

“That would be great. Thanks, Mom.”

“No sense letting a perfectly good pot of coffee go to waste.” She grabbed the pot and poured herself a cup. “Ready?”

I grinned, “Yup.”

The two of us headed out of the front door, padding as quietly as we could to not wake up Dad and Sara. Mom sat down on the porch swing first and I quickly followed. Both of us sat down, angling our bodies towards each other. Mom took a sip of her steaming coffee and her eyes glanced down to my dick. I wasn’t completely soft, but I wasn’t anywhere near hard either.

When Mom moved a hand from her shoulder, down to her collar bone, dragging her nails lightly down to the upper swell of her breasts, my cock started to stir. She traced between her breasts, her eyes locked on mine, a sultry, suggestive look on her face. Her eyes glanced down, seeing that I was having a reaction and smirked.

She ran her fingers under the bottom curve of her breasts, her palm bushing against her already hard nipples. When her nail reached the outer curve, she gripped her boob in her hand, her fingers indenting slightly into her soft, pliable flesh. She moaned quietly as she kneaded her breast and at that point, I was rock hard. I watched as her tongue barely peaked out as she licked her lips slowly. That was it, I had all I could take, and I gripped my hard shaft firmly near the tip.

Mom set her coffee mug down on the arm of the porch swing. Then she moved her hand slowly, gently down her stomach, past her belly button and ultimately down to her mound. Her pussy was reddened and slick with her juices. She dipped her index finger into her folds, and it disappeared from view except for her knuckles. I couldn’t take my eyes off the seductive way she was touching herself.

I wanted to touch her, badly, at that moment. I wanted to feel her soft, smooth, freshly shaven skin. I knew I couldn’t, but my imagination drifted to what it would feel like. How hot would she be, what would she taste like? Would she be loud, or would she try to be as quiet as possible to hide what was happening? All those images flashed through my mind as I slowly stroked myself over and over.

Mom took that moment to shift her position, leaning back a bit further and spreading her legs a bit more. From where I was sitting, it was as if her pussy had just opened just for me. Her puffy outer lips opened, showing me her pink, wet, center. If she wanted to, at that moment, I have no doubt she could have opened herself completely and taken away everything I could possibly imagine that was hidden. She didn’t, but that only pushed me further and I was getting really close to the apex where there was no stopping the orgasm rushing through my body.

Just then, not one, but two of her fingers dipped in to sample her channel. Seeing her fingers vanish into her depths, only to pull back covered in a clear liquid that made her fingers shine was intense. I was just watching it happen, and that was nearly too much for me. The thought of feeling that with my own hands and fingers, let alone my dick was more than I could handle.

“Oh! Shit ... oh shit. I am going to come,” I gasped out, feeling the point of no return come and go.

Mom’s fingers started to rapidly plunge into her as her other hand grasped, squeezed, and mauled her breast.

“I’m close. I am really close, Sam. Oh, god!” Mom moaned loudly.

My hand was racing up and down my shaft, precome flowing out of me in massive quantities. Mom’s hands were buried inside of her. I couldn’t tell what her three fingers were doing, but whatever it was, she was now on the cusp.

“I am coming, Mom,” I groaned as I felt the pulses race through my body.

“Mmm. Ungh, yes!” Mom’s body went rigid, her body shaking which made her breasts jiggle uncontrollably.

“Oh, fuck!” I yelled.

“Wow, oh damn, fuck,” Mom whimpered out as she felt the residual shocks and sensitivity as she came down from her orgasm.

We both smiled contentedly as we each came down from our orgasmic highs. Mom would look at me and giggle like a girl half her age and I would laugh seeing her giggle. We were both happy at that moment and I had no desire to be anywhere else than right beside Mom on the porch swing. That feeling, sadly, didn’t last too long. Mom finished her coffee quicker than ever before and I really needed to take a shower because my own semen was now truly drying on my skin.

“I am going to go make breakfast,” Mom said, getting up from the swing. “You should probably go and clean up if you are going to. I know Sara would be thankful if you did.”

The smile and giggle Mom gave me as she walked in the house warmed me, and I couldn’t help smiling myself. I didn’t get up right away. Instead, I just enjoyed the feeling of sitting on the porch, on the swing in the morning air. I rested my head on the back rest and closed my eyes.

“Sam, get up!” Sara yelled out the front door. “Breakfast is ready.”

“What?” I asked as my eyes opened, not realizing I had fallen asleep. “Oh, breakfast. Sure, just a second.”

I sat up, stretched, and made my way inside. By then, everyone was sitting at the table waiting for me to sit down.

“Sorry, I fell asleep,” I apologized.

“Don’t worry, your mom has a talent for that,” Dad said in a quiet voice, barely loud enough for me to hear but I did.

I didn’t respond to what he said, but I still blushed, pulled out my chair, and sat down.

“Didn’t you sleep enough?” Sara asked midway through the meal.