Copyright© 2004

A newly-wed man of Peru
Found himself in a terrible stew:
His wife was in bed
Much deader than dead,
And so he had no one to screw.

Mom took my right hand and placed it upon the indentation of her waist, trying hard all the while not to laugh at my obvious discomfort.

I pulled my hand away and whined, "Mom please!"

She forced her near-laugh into a gentle smile and spoke while looking up at me, "Sorry honey - lets try again?"

Again she guided my hand to her small waist, while my left still clasped with her right, the small dainty fingers and the long nails hidden in my paw. "Relax David! You know this." She pulled me gently against her - so that her petite soft body seemed to mold against my own from my knees up to my chest.

Without meaning too, I took notice of the soft pillows of her bosom as it pressed into my sternum. Did we really have to dance so close?

The music played on and she looked at me expectantly, to start dancing. As she had taught me over the last days, my feet began to move in a classic waltz, she seemingly effortlessly gliding before and against me.

Mother was a tiny woman, petite, but with generous breasts and wide soft hips and ass.

Believe me when I say that I had never looked at her in that way before. You know what I mean, the way a guy looks at an attractive woman? Yet, now as we moved slowly to the music, mother's small soft body seemed to massage against my front as our clothed persons continually touched.

And it began to happen... again!

Neither of us appeared to notice - but I could feel the tension build in our living room.

Just like yesterday, I pulled gently away, trying to be discreet as possible, and in just three dance steps, mother was again pressing her body against my own.

Obviously, she must be able to feel it pressing into her abdomen.

She stole a quick glance up at my face - but I was staring straight ahead, not daring to look at her. My cheeks were so hot, I knew they had to be bright red.

What kind of sick fucker gets a hard-on while dancing with his mom?

Not only that - but this was the third straight day that it has happened, starting with our first dance lesson right here in our living room.

That initial day, mom was facing away from me, as we (tried to) dance to some Latin music. My technique disastrous. While my legs were spread wide when I recognized the shame as I felt it grown in my pants, pressing into the small of her back, across and between the cheeks of her generous ass. Mother had stopped dancing immediately, seconds after I realized what my body was doing, turned toward me and glanced down at my penis before jerking back a few steps to turn off the music. Dance lesson done for the day.

Then yesterday, mother surprised me when she knocked on my bedroom door and asked me to come back into the living room, for further lessons. We would be alone - dad was at work.

I really did need the help - what with the formal dance at school coming up very soon. Yet, the humiliation and self-loathing of what had happened the day before stayed with me. Mom did not relent though, and soon we were in the living room, dancing to various songs, and I forgot my earlier embarrassment. That is, until it happened again. But this time, mother was pressing her front against me and when I tried to disengage, she would charge forward yet again. The friction on my hard penis was excruciating and humiliating. When the music finally stopped, mother kept glancing at the bulge in my pants - saying nothing. It was I that mumbled something about being tired and then retreating to my bedroom.

I felt so unclean - to get excited in the presence of my own mother. And I had seen her eyes - she knew it was because of her!

With only one more day before the dance, I gave in to mother as she had pushed aside the coffee table and chairs to give us a dance floor.

Strangely, I had thought I detected a hidden excitement to my parent even as she asked me for another dance lesson.

Again I retreated, pulling just my hips away from mother's body so that I was bent in half comically, desperation must be written over my face.

"Relax honey!" She reached down from my shoulder to pull my hips back in - my hard penis pressing through our clothing, into her stomach.

Since she would not let me escape so easily, I mumbled, "Mom please?" The basis of the question obvious - much to my continued horror.

She tilted her head up and stared at me, her voice barely above the music, "What is it David? Are you embarrassed about your hard-on?"

You could have asked me what the oddest thing to hear my own mother say and it would have been that - 'hard on'. The fact that she so commonly stated what I could not - also seemed to penetrate my serene and sterile world.

Oh my god - I felt like dying of embarrassment.

"Don't be shy honey! It is rather flattering after all." Her face turned away from my own and it was my turn to steal a look at her, her cheeks crimson as I am sure my own were.

Just when I realized what mother had said, the obvious questions wanting to burst from my lips, mother continued, staring at my shoulder with nearly no emotion, "A girl likes to know that she turns a man on. Makes a old lady feel good."

I knew, then, that she was not talking about my date for tomorrow night nor just any 'old lady' - but herself. She was feeling good because I got an erection that she continually wanted to keep pressing into herself?

Mumbling, "You are not old mom." She is of course - she's my mom for gods sake. Ancient!

I thought I felt her stomach clench, rippling against my thrusting pelvis. We were still in contact of course.

The music, in the final few seconds, had ended without my noticing but mother still held me tight against her - our feet moving to the waltz steps.

"I know you are probably thinking of Cindy... ?"

It was an obvious leading question, but I had never heard my mother sound so frail and unsure. Cindy, if you want to know, was my date for the dance tomorrow night - one of the hottest girls in school. "I haven't thought of Cindy at all mom." Which was true - even if my voice was suddenly rough and dry. The truthful admission surprised me.

This conversation was making my heart thump violently in my chest and my forehead to break out in a sweat.

Mom looked up again, her eyes wide and obviously in need of believing my words. She dropped her hands from my own, stood back a step and quickly looked down at my thrusting crotch. When her eyes, eventually, came back to my own, she asked in a near-whisper, "I think you have the dance steps down now David. But if you would like to continue to practice... ?"

Another obvious leading question, her eyes wide and silently begging for more. My lips almost said what my mind was screaming to say - 'no' - instead I simply nodded in agreement, as if my mind was powerless to the brain throbbing between my legs.

My mom turned toward the stereo to change the music while my eyes strolled down to her trim waist and flaring wide attractive ass and hips. When had mom become a woman to me? Had it been only two days ago - my unconscious, and thus my cock, realizing what my mind denied?

When my eyes rose I saw that mom was looking over her shoulder and had caught me peaking, a pleased private smile upon her lips. She turned back to me after pressing a button on the stereo and smiled widely, "A little something from my generation."

The speakers blared out a early sixties rock tune - a mild surprise since I had always assumed mom was a symphonic type of person. Then her hips began to sway wildly, violently, her knees bending rotating, her breasts bouncing on her chest and her face intense with concentration.

She was not bad actually - dancing with her eyes closed, allowing me to witness this transformation to her early teen years. Her hands were moving to the music, raising above her head so that her breasts seem to rise on her chest, her body slowly turning so that her ass faced me as it wiggled and rotated deliciously. She was already sweating, her face glistening and beneath her arms a dark stain on her pale blouse.

Mother backed up in time to the music and I felt her generous soft ass eventually wiggle into my upper thighs, my hard covered groin.

My hands seemed to naturally land upon her tempered waist, holding her in this position - the feeling running through me electric and highly addictive.

Mom turned her head to look over her shoulder, though her eyes remained closed. Her whole face was smiling as she was biting her bottom lip rather harshly. I saw her nostrils flaring and knew she was out of breath.

No longer a teenager, huh mom?

I felt my knees move without a conscious command from my brain - bending so that my hard penis was level with the lover half of my own mothers soft ass. She pressed it into me harder - grinding and thrusting, her torso bending forward to get a better angle.

When I looked down at the sight, I felt my body quiver in desire - the hourglass figure, the round beautiful bottom before me. It did not matter to me if this was my mother - my mind began to realize. I loved her as I loved no other in my life, but a part of me lusted after her as well. Perhaps it could be realized as misguided affection or perhaps it was something else, something more.

One of my hands slipped up from holding her waist and rubbed up her spin, feeling the dampness of her exertion beneath the thin cotton blouse.

Again her head turned as if looking over her shoulder, her eyes clamped shut, her mouth open as she panted for breath.

The hand on her back grasped one of her shoulders, pressing the neck of her blouse out of the way as I grasped her slippery smooth warm skin.

The other hand, without thought, slipped from her waist and slid beneath her, upward. Then it was holding, cupping, one full soft breast - feeling the protective layers of clothing, the warm damp skin beneath. I also felt the hard thrusting nipple, amazed at the size and hardness as it provocatively pressed into my palm.

It was certainly the largest breast I had ever felt.

Mother finally seemed to have noticed a few seconds after my hand grasped her covered breast, gasping loudly and froze before and against me. Then she jerked upward, my hand quickly moving so as not to become trapped between us, her back pressing into my stomach and chest. My newly freed hand grasped the other breast, roughly kneading those wonderful globes with my arms encircling her possessively.

Mom jerked against me, a high pitch squeal escaping her throat - the music long forgotten by the both of us.

As inexperienced as I was, I wondered if mother was climaxing? Yet, how could that be - there had been no direct manipulation to what lay between her legs.

My head felt like it was spinning, my knees felt almost ready to buckle and my body broke out in a sweat. The thought of my mothers sexual organs, that she was having an orgasm right here, in my arms was just completely wild.

Then it was over - the song, the jerking of my mothers body and then of my hands overflowing with covered tit-flesh. A sad longing filled me - the loss of what had almost been. I knew the impossibility of this situation - could I could not?

Mom spun about in my arms, pressing our bodies together, her arms encircling my waist, her body warm and damp against my own. I could feel her hot breath through my tee-shirt, where she pressed her face, panting, against me.

Naturally, my arms went around her small torso, holding her protectively. She felt good there - in my arms, against me.

And yes, I understand how wrong it is to feel that way!