Copyright© 2004

There's a young Yiddish slut with two cunts,
Whose pleasure in life is to pruntz.
When one pireg is shot,
There's that alternate twat,
But the ausgefuckt male merely grunts.

"Do you do that every night?" Asked the tiny voice from the darkness.

I froze! My heart felt as if it would fail in surprise and my cock immediately started to deflate within my enclosed fist.

Then I felt, and heard, movement upon the air mattress that we shared, as I pictured my mother turning toward me. Was she seriously waiting for an answer? What possibly could I say? I had thought her asleep, I had waited long enough.

It was so dark, it had to be impossible for her to see anything - that was my first thought. The next was that I had inadvertently moved upon the air mattress - so that I feared she could not help but realize what her teenage son was doing.

I felt like dying from the humiliation of it.

With the voice not so unlike a mouse in an animated movie to my own ears, "What do you mean mom?" I wanted to take my hand off my nearly soft member and to pull the loose shorts back up over my balls and dick - yet, I dare not move... could not move from fright. She would surely know the truth of it if I had.

"Its OK honey!" She a small amount of compassion to her normally stern voice and rather than calm my fear and degradation, it only inflated it. I had guessed years ago, that her perpetual anger toward me was because I was starting to look more and more like dad as grew into manhood. "Really... I understand."

What could she possibly understand - she was twenty five years older than I for gods sake?

Slowly and calmly I lifted my enclosed hand from my exposed groin, not daring to move my bottoms back to my waist else mother would hear me. It left me exposed to the nights darkness, but I guessed it the lesser of evils. There was no way mother could see a thing - it was pitch black in the little room.

The seconds turned into minutes, and in that black void it seemed to take forever. I could hear moms breathing, sounding loud in the darkness, could even feel her breath tickling my cheek as she lay facing me on the pillow next to my own.

Sharing an air mattress with your middle-aged mother, on the floor of your sister and brother-in-law's empty spare bedroom, was awkward enough. Having been caught with my hand in the proverbial cookie jar was downright humiliating.

"Are you done for the night honey?" Matter a factly stated.

"Jeez mom!" I was thankful for the dark, if only because I knew my cheeks were turning bright red from the way they burned hot.

Here was the strict disciplinarian that I grew up with, a thin petite woman with balls the size of coconuts. She could stand toe to toe with another person twice her size and come out ahead. Mother is as feisty as her long red curly hair proclaimed.

"Lets just forget it OK? Its getting late!" Did she have some need to humiliate me like this purposefully? Did she really hate me that much because dad left her and every time she looked at me she could not help but remember him?

She ignored my plea, "You're done then? Pity - I was just starting to enjoy it."

My response was simply a groan of agony. The humour in her voice made no sense to me, but to confirm my suspicions of her hate, of her malicious intent to use my self pleasure as an avenue to humiliate me.

Then I felt a small cool hand touch my naked hip, move swiftly and expertly up to grasp my half-hard penis. "Hum... very nice honey." Her hand began to stroke me slowly up and down and I realized my cock was responding unconsciously.

What the hell was she doing? What the fuck was happening?

The mattress shifted loudly, as only an air mattress in the dark can, and mother shifted closer to me until I felt one small cool foot begin to caress my shins seductively.

I croaked, "Mom... ?"

God damn, my hips could not help but thrust into her expert hand.

This had to be a dream? Was this some sick way to humiliate me further?

Its been weeks since I had sex, a rushed affair in the back room of a party. The girl was half wasted and just lay there as I pumped back and forth. Perhaps not the best lay of my life, but there really was not that many occurrences to compare it too.

"Relax honey, you are so... tense!" Mom laughed briefly at her own bawdy humour.

Who was this woman with her hand on my dick?

Then mother stopped and I could not help but groan with the unexpected loss - her hand slipping off my cock to fumble about in the darkness.

That left me a few seconds to contemplate what had just happened - to listen to the loud and fast thump of my beating heart, sure that the fucking air mattress was bouncing from its reverberations. The time I had to contemplate the last minute left me no less confused.

Yet mothers actions were not aimless as she soon found my nearest hand and dominantly guided it toward her. I felt warm soft thighs, a far leg raised and spread away from the other. Mother pressed my hand up and in, forcing me to advance until I was cupping her naked hairy loins.

What happened to her nightgown? "Oh my god!" This had to be some sort of dream... a nightmare perhaps?

"Can you feel it honey... how hot you made me?" The hot hairy flesh beneath my palm was indeed becoming coated with slippery thick woman-juice. The two middle fingers of my hand bent slightly and found themselves slipping into the hot channel between my own mother's legs.

My god her cunt was tighter than the co-ed that I last fucked. And she was, indeed, very wet!

Mother groaned and shivered violently.

Was the hair between her legs, now beneath my palm, as red as the hair at the top of her head I could not help but wonder?

"Oh honey... its been so long!" My fingers began to dance within my parents body, moving steadily in and out. This being my most experienced sexual act with a girl - finger banging her I mean. Its what a teenager does to his date, when going 'all the way' was forbidden. Mother responded to my actions by humping her hips back and forth, fucking my fingers anxiously. Her tiny hand easily found my cock hard, throbbing painfully this time, as she began to aggressively yanked on it yet again.

I could hear her laboured breathing, feel the hot air upon the side of my face - my mother was sounding like she was in heat and it turned me on incredibly.

This was not the woman I have known my whole life!

With both of our loins thrusting into the hand of the other, mother suddenly leaned forward with her torso to fumble about my chin and jaw with her full lips. As soon as they found my own, mother orally assaulted me with a hunger that I've never experienced in another and it shocked me. If it had been any other woman, it would be startling to face such passion, but with my own parent it was nothing less than a revelation into another side of my own parent.

Was I wrong about her hating me because I looked like dad - he having left mom for another woman years before?

Mother's tongue was raping my mouth, our saliva running from our lips as if a river... my lips quickly felt bruised and my jaw sore but I loved it. I may have lain shocked for the first minute or two of that oral assault, I did finally start to get into it! I began to give as good as I was receiving and from the way her hips thrust quicker into my palm, her hand jerking me faster, I knew she enjoyed it as much as I.

It was at that point in time that mom stopped her lip and hand assault and a loud, but unconscious, groan of loss escaped from me. I thought I heard a similar sound from mother as well.

She giggled like a teenager, a foreign sound, before she whispered with our noses still touching in the complete darkness, "Shhhh... you will wake up your sister!"

Then with careful but hurried movements, mother shifted loudly around on the air mattress until I felt her naked smooth straddling my ears. I could feel the heat of her in the darkness, sense the dampness but a breath above me... and the smell! God it was delicious - earthy, sweet with a sharp tang that was nothing less than seductive.

Was she completely naked with me? God what a kinky and wild thought! I wore only a tee-shirt and my shorts - the latter sill at half mast.