Chapter 31

I looked over at Mom. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine, Wes."

"You look like you might be coming down with something. Maybe I need to take your temperature."

I saw a flush build from above her breasts and up until her face was red. An artery began pulsing on her neck.

Les played right along. "He's right Mom. You don't look so good. You should go up to your room. I'll call Sam over and we'll take care of the dishes and make some butter with Jaz. That OK with you, Jaz?"

"Cool."

Mom was breathing harder by now. "Maybe you're right. I think I'll just go upstairs. Bring your thermometer up, Wesley."

I brushed my teeth and hair. Mom had had about 5 minutes when I knocked lightly on her bedroom door.

"Come in, Doctor."

I opened the door. She had placed candles around the room. Enough so I could navigate without running into things.

She was lying on her bed in a long black negligee.

It looked like something Ann Margaret would wear. Part of it fit her like it was spray painted on. Every curve of her body was hugged. The bodice was all lace and frills. The tops of her breasts were visible but everything was covered up. It had straps that went over her shoulders. The bottom was a couple of inches above her ankles. You could tell everything she had without seeing any of it. To top it off was some filmy black material that was she was wearing as if it was a robe. If she just had that robe on, you would have been able to count the freckles on her body through it.

"Oh God, Mom. You're beautiful."

She held her arms up. I felt myself being pulled toward her.

I lay on the bed next to her and took her in my arms. There was no doubt that this was a woman. The girls felt wonderful, but they were just that. Girls. My mother was a woman. In all her glory.

Our lips met and we fell into each other. Both of us moaned as soon as we started kissing. Our hands were touching, exploring, searching each other's bodies, trying to learn everything there was to know in as short a time as possible. The kisses were passionate and all encompassing. We were dancing a dance as old as mankind.

We stopped for a moment. Mom looked at me. "I figured you didn't have enough time for your old Mom anymore."

"Come on, Mom. I'll always make time for us."

"I know. It's just that you've got Les and Sam and probably half the cheerleader squad after your body. You know it's not going to get any quieter. You're just too good a lover. I'm afraid I won't be able to compete."

"You know I like them all. And there's no doubt they're all hot. Mother Nature makes sure a girl is irresistible to any man with life in his body when she's ripe like they are. But you're different. You've grown, you've matured. Sex with you is so more fulfilling because you're a woman and they're girls. Does that make any sense, Mom?"

"Yes, Wesley, it does. You continue to amaze me."

We kissed and explored each other some more. Mom finally backed off and said "These clothes have got to go."

We got off the bed and undressed. Mom managed to do it gracefully and provocatively at the same time. How she did that with a negligee that was skin tight is a secret I'm sure I'll never know. I can't even get a tight tee shirt off without getting my arms and head stuck.

We got back on the bed. Mom was on her back and I started exploring her with my lips and tongue. I got down to her breasts and took a nipple in my mouth. She reached up and held me against her, like she had when I was a babe.

Her nipples swelled as I sucked on them. A feeling of peace came over me, as if I was home where I belonged. The more I sucked, the harder they got, till they were like little bullets. Mom sighed and moaned, pulling me closer into her breast.

I moved up and kissed Mom. "Those are my breasts. They were my breasts when I was born and needed nourishment and they're my breasts now that you're my lover. I can never feel the same about another woman's breasts, no matter how young, how big or how firm she is or isn't. It's not a matter of competition, but if there was a competition, these would win."

I moved back down and continued to feed off her. She held me close and sighed.

When I decided I'd had my fill for the time being, I worked my way down to her navel. I explored it with my tongue as my mother shivered. There is something so sexy about a mature woman's navel and the way it disappears into her body.

Another downward movement and I could feel her red bush start to scratch my chin. I moved and lay my cheek on it. Rough and smooth, curly yet soft, a study in ambiguity. She grew impatient with my exploration and pushed my head down toward her center.

Ah. I was accosted by that odor I had come to know over the past few days. Not quite the same with each woman, but not quite different. Like a fine wine that had matured with age, my mother's arousal intoxicated me.

I kissed her gently. First on her clitoris. This was met with a sudden intake of breath and a withdrawal of her body. A little lower on her labia. Then I took one of her labia between my lips and pulled it out from her body. I gave it a little swipe with my tongue, then let it fall back into place. Only not quite as close in as before. I repeated this with the other labia and pulled back a bit. I could now see pink between the lips.

I moved to the bottom of the path, stuck my tongue in it and moved up toward her clitoris. I got my first taste of her juices. Mom didn't get sloppy wet right away like Les and Sam did. That's OK. I had plenty of time to prime the pump.

I continued to lick. I sank into her on the third swipe. He tunnel was warm and smooth against my tongue. The next trip I spent some time moving my tongue in and out. When I moved up I encountered a hard, red nub at the top. I took it between my lips and toyed with it using my tongue.

While I was playing with Mom's clit, I maneuvered my right hand under me and worked my index finger into her pussy. She was getting wetter.

The combination of my finger and mouth started to get to her. Her hands had found their way back to my head. Her body seemed tense. She felt as if she was ready to pull away from me. Her hands on the back of my head felt tentative, as if she wasn't sure if she wanted to grab me or push me away.