Josh and his mom continue to explore their bodies and desires.
Thanks to JordanJohnson for doing his best to make sure the story is coherent.
Enjoy. Let me know what works and what does not.
Peace
*******
Mom’s panting slowed as she lay nestled along my side. I tried to memorize every sensation I had just experienced. The ache in my belly, balls and cock was a distraction. I had never had “blue balls”. When I was horny, I jerked off. I assumed this was what I was experiencing. The sensation was definitely painful, yet it was also arousing in a way, promising immense rewards in the future.
Mom rolled onto her side and her eyes went to my cock then to my face.
“Honey, forget what I said. You don’t have to wait two days before you cum.”
I surprised myself by shaking my head. “No, I want to try.” I rolled to face her. “You almost drowned me. You even got my hair wet.” In the faint light I saw her blush.
“Well, what you were doing to me was pretty intense.”
“You liked it?”
She snorted at the question.
“Yes, Josh. I liked it. For future reference, sweetheart, most women hate being asked some version of ‘was it good for you’, but yes, I liked it. Loved it. I don’t think I’ve ever cum so hard in my life.”
“Good,” I whispered. “In my defense, in almost everything you read, women are complaining how men never make them cum.”
“Well, that does happen. It will happen to us. Even without an orgasm women can feel good after sex. Trust me, if I don’t like something you do, I’ll tell you.”
“What about what you do like? Will you tell me that? That’s at least as important, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, sure. Of course,” mom answered.
I took a silent, deep breath and asked the question that was worrying me. “Did you like it when I kissed your bottom?”
After a pause, she nodded.
“I did. I would never have imagined that I would, but I did. No one has ever done that to me before.” She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. “Your father used to pressure me to have anal sex. I gave in once or twice. I never liked it. He never did anything like that though.”
My heart sank a little. Anal was something I had been obsessing about. “No problem, we don’t have to do that if you don’t like it, anal I mean. Is it okay if I kiss you there?”
Another pause ensued and it dawned on me…I was not the only one figuring out how to talk about sex with my lover. It was a revelation. A deep sense of relief filled me.
“Yes, okay, I did like that. But only after a shower, so I won’t worry about feeling clean,” she whispered after a moment.
“Yeah, of course. I wouldn’t want you to be, you know, dirty down there either.”
“That was one of the problems with your father. He always sprang the idea on me. I never had time to get ready. It felt so messy and embarrassing.”
Sex Education came to my rescue. It was definitely not a show I had watched with mom, though, maybe after all that had happened, we could. “You could douche first. I mean if you wanted to,” I mumbled.
“Douche?”
Now I blushed, wondering what had happened to my newfound communication confidence.
“On Sex Education, the two gay characters douche before they have anal sex.”
“I didn’t know you watched that show,” she replied. “I watched a couple of episodes. I thought the kids were too young for all the sex they seemed to be having. I don’t recall them talking about anal sex. In the United States douching is cleansing your vagina. What you’re describing is an enema.”
I was too embarrassed to push any further.
“Are you saying you would like to try anal?” Mom asked.
I shrugged, hoping I looked and sounded casual. “Sure, but only if you wanted to. I think most guys want to at least try it.”
“You mean most guys want to do it to someone, not the other way around,” she replied. “Let me think about it. Any experience involving your father should definitely not be used as a guide. Everything was so warped by his psychopathology.” She turned to me. “Sorry. I try not to say bad things about your father.”
“Why?” I snorted. “I don’t know him. Don’t remember him. Don’t miss him, though I do miss having someone like a dad. I have no desire to ever meet him. Neither of us owe him a goddamn thing.”
“Okay, baby, I understand. Just don’t let those feelings turn into bitterness. Store them away as unfortunate facts you can do nothing about and let them be. Okay?”
“Sure. I’m not bitter. He doesn’t occupy my thoughts enough to trigger bitterness. Can we not talk about him?”
“Yup, that’s my favorite activity regarding your father. Not talking about him. Or even thinking about him for that matter.” She glanced at my cock again. “Joshua, are you going to be able to sleep like that?”
“Yeah, I think so.” Even to my own ears my reply did not sound convincing.
“I have an idea.” Mom got out and walked out of the bedroom. Admiring her ass and boobs did nothing to ease the ache in my belly.
I heard the water running in the bathroom. Soon, she returned with a washcloth in her hands.
“A word of warning, this is cold,” she told me as she knelt beside me on the bed. “Ready?” I nodded.
She draped the washcloth over my cock and tucked it around my balls. I let out a loud gasp. The water from the tap had never felt this cold before. I gave it a few minutes, but the ache only grew stronger.
“Maybe a warm cloth?” I wondered, rolling over and getting out of bed.
In the bathroom I managed to pee despite my boner. I ran the water until it was hot and soaked the washcloth, wrung it out and wrapped it around my cock and balls. Perhaps it was all mental, but it seemed to help.
I returned to bed and returned to my place by mom’s side, lying on my back.
“Honey, I changed my mind. Let me give you another blow job or jerk you off.”
I rolled over enough to kiss her, holding the still warm cloth over my cock. “Nope. I’m fine. I know it’s early, but I’m beat. I’m going to go to sleep.”
She kissed me back, then rolled on her side and pressed her butt against my hip. “Okay, sweetheart but if you can’t sleep and need to jerk off, don’t worry about it please.”
I kissed the back of her shoulder by way of answering and then closed my eyes.
Wonder of wonders, as far as I could recall the next morning I had fallen right to sleep.
†
When I woke my cock was hard. Of course. Mom’s hand was wrapped around it. I realized I could get used to that. I had to pee. Duh. But, and it was a big but, the ache had receded from my balls and lower belly.
By the time I finished peeing, mom was tapping on the door.
“It’s open,” I called, wetting my toothbrush.
She hugged me from behind. Her breasts felt hot against my skin.
“Did you sleep okay, Josh?”
Mouth foamed with toothpaste, I contented myself with a nod. After rinsing, I dropped my toothbrush in the holder. “I slept great. You?”
I looked at her face in the mirror. She nodded but she looked beat.
I turned in her arms and kissed her.
“Josh, I haven’t brushed my teeth,” she protested.
I settled for a quick peek. “I don’t really care.” I cupped one cheek. “I’m calling you in sick again. You’re tired. You need to rest.” She opened her mouth to protest, and I put a finger over her lips. “No arguing. You can’t tell me you’re not wiped out.”
“I am,” she admitted. “But I won’t be able to rest here. I’ll just worry about all the shit I need to be doing at work. I’ll take it easy. If I get too tired, I’ll come home early.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
I nodded. “Cool, brush your teeth and then I’ll shave quick, and we can shower together.”
She looked worried.
“No fooling around,” I reassured her. “Just a shower. We won’t be late.” I drew an ‘X’ over the middle of my chest. “Cross my heart.”
“Fine,” she sighed.
“Don’t pretend you don’t want to.” I told her with a smile and another kiss.
To be honest, I did put my tongue in her mouth a few times. Ground my hardon against her ass a few times and spend more time soaping her boobs than was strictly necessary but we mostly just showered.
And I heard no complaints.
†
The entire high school was amped. A summer of no homework and sleeping in was tantalizingly close. For those of us who were seniors there was the added excitement of graduation, the fear of leaving behind the known for the unknown and the unacknowledged fear that perhaps high school really was “the best years” of our lives.
That was a terrifying thought for most of us.
I was walking on clouds but given my generally sunny nature my elation was hardly noticed. Except for Jeff, my best friend since kindergarten.
“Dude, what’s up with you? You don’t look like you were puking your guts up yesterday?” he asked as he took the stairs to the main entrance two at a time.
I was always early, since I rode in with mom and she had to be there before classes started. I wondered, briefly, what he would say if I told him mom and I had been fucking all weekend.
“Didn’t last long. I’d blame the diner food, but mom had it too.”
“Cool, but you look like you just won the Powerball or something. As my dear old granddad would say, ‘you’re grinnin’ like a jackass eatin’ catcus’. Spill? What gives?” He stopped and grabbed my arm.
“You gave in and banged Suze, didn’t you?”
I shook my head. Suze was nice enough. We’d had both known her since kindergarten as well. She was seriously and openly enamored of me since she got her boobs. I am not bragging. I liked Suze but was not interested and she had become something of a pest.
“No, I did not bang Suze. Fuck, dude. Let it go.”
“Why the hell not? You know she’d let you and she’s fucking hot.”
Jeff was right on both counts.
I shrugged and tried to change the subject. “We getting our gowns today?”
“Your mom basically runs the place. You know we’re getting our cap and gowns today. Quit trying to change the subject. You definitely look like a dude who just lost his cherry. Welcome to the club by the way. Spill.”
Jeff was constantly regaling me with tales of his love life. My conservative estimate was about ten percent of what he claimed might be true.
“Nothing to spill, bro. We’re about to graduate. The weather hasn’t turned to shit yet. It’s a beautiful fucking day. That’s all.”
He dropped the subject, but it was clear he thought I was holding something back.
See why I never play poker?
I managed to stop thinking about mom, her face, her boobs, her ass and her pussy a couple of times but for most of the day a loop of our weekend activities played over and over in my brain. As a consequence, I spent most of the day trying to hide my boner with a book. This did not help the ache in my balls.
At a desk I worried less. Perhaps that was a mistake. Ms. Lang, Ancient Civilizations, was almost as hot as mom. My desk was in front of her desk. As I worked on filling in a worksheet she had passed out, I had, unconsciously, reached down to adjust my cock. Later, I glanced up and she was staring at my crotch.
She didn’t seem to notice my glance. I wondered if I was wrong. Head bent forward but secretly watching her from beneath my eyelashes, I tightened the muscles in my crotch and made my cock strain against my jeans.
Her eyes widened. Just a bit, but there was no mistaking it.
Just what I needed. My cock strained. My balls ached. Ms. Lang tried not to stare.
And I struggled to finish the worksheet as, in my mind, a naked Ms. Lang and mom took turns sucking and licking my cock before I jerked off watching them 69 each other.
By the time I was sitting outside, waiting for mom to finish up and drive us home, the book on my lap was hiding a wet spot on the front of my jeans, along with my boner.
I fought the urge to jump up, grab mom and bury my tongue in her mouth when she pushed open the front doors to the school. I almost risked doing just that once we were inside the car. The buses were gone. No one was around. I knew it would upset her, so I didn’t.
Neither of us talked on the ride home. That was unusual. Typically, mom would regale me with the absurd tales of educational bureaucracy, and I would do my best to get her to laugh over whatever ridiculousness my peers had been up to.
There was none of that. She was flushed. My cock throbbed. How the hell I would be able to make it through another night without cumming was beyond me.
Mom pulled into the detached garage. I walked, painfully and proudly, to the mailbox at the curb to get the mail. It was all junk.
Mom had dropped her keys into the bowl on the small sideboard in the kitchen, like she always did. Her purse sat beside the bowl as it always had.
Staring at them it hit me how much had changed. We were isolated over the weekend, other than the brief interactions with Nana and Ms. Porter. Today, we faced the world, pretending nothing had changed.
How the house could look unchanged after everything that had happened seemed impossible. The events of the past three days should have changed the world.
I could hear mom in her bedroom, changing. I hurried down the hall and pushed open her door.
“Josh, I’m chang…” she started to say, standing in her skirt, top off and hands reaching around to unhook her bra.
I damn near leapt across the small room and took her in my arms. I silenced her words with a kiss, my tongue, at long last, at home in her mouth.
For moment, I thought she would push me away, then her hands were in my hair and her own tongue was trying to push its way into my mouth.
My hands went behind her back and I unclasped her bra with less difficulty than I had feared. Without breaking our kiss, we pulled apart enough to let her bra fall to the floor. Then her lush, oh so very warm, boobs were pressed against my tee-shirt.
Her hands went to my crotch.
“Careful, mom. I’m so close. I want to try to wait until tomorrow night.” I warned her lips still pressed to the side of her mouth.
“Oh, God, Josh I want you to fuck me, baby. I need you to fuck me,” she whimpered against my cheek.
Summoning all my willpower, I stepped away.
“Take a shower, mom. Get all clean. I’ll throw something together for supper. After we eat, we’ll watch TV for an hour. I’ll shower and then I’ll make you cum as hard as yesterday.”
Her face fell. “Seriously? But baby…”
I shushed her with a kiss. “This was your idea and I’m digging it. Take a shower. Don’t masturbate. Promise?” She nodded. “Good. Don’t dress after. Stay naked.”
“What about you?”
I kissed her again.
“Don’t worry about me.”
†
By the time mom walked into the kitchen, her long, still dark brown hair wrapped up in a towel, I almost had supper ready. Pork chops fried with onions, green beans and the last of the deli potato salad and, of course, iced tea.
God, she was a gorgeous woman. Even at the end, the fucking cancer could not steal her beauty.
Would I have done anything different had I known what the future held?
No, I most certainly fucking would not.
“Sit, mom,” I told her as I sat a glass of iced tea beside her plate. “A few more minutes and the pork chops will be done.”
“It smells wonderful, Joshua. You’re too good to me.”
“Bullshit,” I replied without turning from the stove. “You worked hard all day. You always do. I had a few hours of keep-them-busy crap at school. Relax. I can cook supper for you.”
“Well, I appreciate it.”
“I know you do. Just don’t acted like you don’t deserve it.”
I plated our supper and carried the two plates to the table. After sitting them down I bent over her and kissed her. She put a hand against my hip.
“Aren’t you going to undress?” she asked as I sat down.
“Not yet,” I replied with a smile and a leer.
“Joshua,” she said, giving me a hard look. “Are you teasing me?”
“You know what?” I replied. “I do believe I am.”
And I did.
Mom insisted on doing the dishes. I leaned against one end of the counter, occasionally rubbing my cock through my jeans.
“You’re going to make me break something,” she protested.
I pulled off my tee-shirt.
She rinsed a plate and set it in the rack to dry.
I tugged my jeans down until the top of my pubic hair showed.
She put the second plate in the rack.
I thumbed open my jeans.
A fork. A second fork.
I unzipped my jeans, allowing the fly to open and show my bush and the base of my cock.
I stopped there and walked into the living room and turned on the TV. The 6:00 news was half over. The weather forecast was on. I focused on that, and my cock softened slightly. The wet spot on the left side of my jeans had re-appeared.
When mom walked in from the kitchen, I could see her thighs were wet.
So much for focusing on the weather forecast.
Like a proper naturist she put a small towel down on the couch and sat beside me.
“How far did you make it in Sex Education?”
“Episode four, I think,” she answered softly.
I raised my arm and she settled in against my side. I let my arm rest around her shoulders.
We watched two episodes before I rose.
“Wait here. I won’t be long.” I told her and then kissed her again. A long lingering kiss with lots of tongue that left me aching and her moaning.
I hurried to the bathroom and retrieved the plastic basin from the closet. I filled the bottom with hot soapy water and dropped in a dark blue washcloth. I carried them, along with a hand towel to mom’s room and sat them on the floor near the bed.
Mom sat on the sofa waiting. I smiled at her and held out a hand. She took it and stood.
“Joshua, what are you up to?”
“Teasing you, remember?”
With that I lifted her in my arms.
“Put me down,” she squealed.
“Nope. Put your legs around me. Grab my neck.”
She did as I asked. Her pussy was hot against my bare belly. Praying my jeans would not fall down around my ankles, trip me and turn my plan into a farce, I carried her down the hallway to her bedroom.
Our bedroom, I recall correcting myself.
The scent of her excitement filled the room as I lowered her to the bed. Seeing the dishpan of water sitting on the floor she raised her eyebrows.
“Nothing too crazy, mom,” I reassured her as I unzipped my jeans and stepped out of them. My cock was an angry red, dripping precum and bouncing hypnotically with every heartbeat.
Steeling myself, I stepped between her legs, rubbed the head of my cock between her pussy lips and entered her. I buried my cock in her and then stopped. I focused on my breathing. Focused on not cumming. Struggled to not start fucking her as hard and fast as I was capable of.
“Mmm, so nice. Fuck me, baby,” mom purred.
She frowned when I shook my head and very slowly pulled my cock from the heat of her sex. “Not tonight, mom. I’ll cum if I do.”
“Please, Josh. I’ve changed my mind. Just fuck me, sweetheart.”
I leaned over her. I shivered when my cock pressed against her pussy. I kissed her softly. Shook my head.
“Do you still keep your dildo in your bedside table?” I asked with a smile.
“I knew you poked around places you oughtn’t have,” mom replied, shaking her head. “Brat.”
“May I get it?”
She nodded.
Leaning over her leg, I open the drawer and retrieved the sleek, purple dildo. There was a small tube of lubricant in the drawer but from the feel of mom’s pussy I wouldn’t need it. I grabbed one of the pillows from the bed and dropped it on the floor.
I fell to my knees on the pillow, then lifted one of her feet at a time and rested it atop my thighs. I pressed lightly with the back of my hands, and she opened herself to me.
It was a glorious sight. Clear honey collecting at the bottom of her slit. Lips rosy and slick. Clit hard, jutting from its hood, begging for attention.
I stared. I stroked the inside of her legs. I stroked her pussy. I put two fingers inside her.
I leaned closer and blew a long, steady breath over her clit, sending goosebumps rippling over her belly and thighs.
Closer still and I inhaled the scent that was driving me mad. Pulling my face away from the beauty of her arousal was the hardest thing I think I had ever done.
Mom’s whimper led me to believe she was disappointed I had not sucked her clit into my mouth.
Instead, I began to run the dildo up and down her slit. First the tip, then the body. When the purple dong glimmered with her passion, I slowly inserted it.
“Tell me if I put it in too far,” I whispered.
She didn’t speak out loud but I saw her nod.
I began to work the toy in and out of her pussy. I went slow. I changed the angle and noted which combination of depth, angle and speed elicited the deepest response from her body.
I did not touch her clit. Not with my fingers. Not with my mouth.
Pulling the dildo out of her pussy drew another kittenish whimper of protest from her chest.
I put two fingers inside her. I want to pleasure her but I want to explore her as well. Up until then I had been so lost in desire I felt I had not paid enough attention.
The front wall of her pussy felt rougher. I pushed deeper; I felt her cervix. It was firm, almost hard. I moved it gently and she groaned.
Almost nineteen years ago I came from there. I slid out of her body and now I’m touching it. The thought stunned me.
I removed my fingers slowly. I put my hands under the back of her legs and lifted them, rolling her onto her back.
I kissed her. Not her pussy. Her bottom.
I reached around one leg and cradled her clit with my thumb, pressing not rubbing. Her bottom tightened at my touch. I licked my way up from the pucker skin to the bottom of her pussy and back down again.
I sat back. The hand wrapped around her thigh pressed against her bush, my thumb still rested atop her throbbing clit. I gently pushed two fingers of my free hand into her pussy. I caressed the inside of her pussy while I rested my cheek on her thigh.
I lost myself in the sight of my fingers pleasuring her body, the sounds of her soft moans and whimpers, and the intoxicating perfume of her body. The rest of the world faded away. I was encased in a bubble of physical sensations and profound emotional contentment.
I hoped then, and still do, that mom had also found herself disconnected from everything but us.
I slipped my fingers from her pussy and used my slick fingers to paint her bottom, before leaning forward to lick her clean. I did this several times. Pussy. Bottom. Fingers. Mouth. Tongue.
“Tell me if I hurt you,” I whispered finally as I pushed the tip of my finger against her bottom. Her reply was a deeper moan.
I slowly increased the pressure. There was a moment of resistance and then my finger was inside her bottom. My gasp may have been louder than hers.
Slowly, carefully, I moved my finger in and out, exploring her bottom as I had her pussy. I felt nothing but velvety skin. Saw nothing on my finger that gave me pause.
Careful not to touch her with the finger I had just had in her bottom, I lubed a second finger by bathing it in the nectar flowing from her pussy. With the same care and patience, I penetrated her with two fingers.
“Okay?” I asked softly.
“Uh-huh, uh-huh,” was her panted answer. “Baby, I want to cum.”
“Soon,” I replied and kissed the inside of her leg.
I sat back on my heels and pulled the washbasin closer. I carefully washed and rinsed the fingers that had been in her bottom. I saw nothing on them but did not want to risk causing a bladder infection.
Turning back, I ran the dildo between her lips. It slipped easily into her pussy. It was not a particularly large dildo, as far as girth, but with its handle it was a bit awkward. As I lubed the dildo, I laved her bottom with my tongue.
Leaning back, I drew the dildo down her slit and rested the head against her bottom.
“You okay with this?” I asked, looking behind her splayed legs and adoring her flushed face. “We don’t have to.”
“No, I’m okay. I want to try it.”
I kissed her thigh, rested by cheek against it, and great deliberateness slowly increased the pressure against her bottom. As with my fingers there was a moment of resistance, then mom relaxed, and the head of the dildo was inside her.
“Hold on,” she gasped. “Wait.”
“Am I hurting you?” I asked as I raised my head to look at her face. Her brow was knitted and she was biting her lower lip.
“No, yes, just a little, just for a second. Just give me time to get use to the feeling.”
“Okay, but if it’s hurting or even if you aren’t enjoying it, tell me and I’ll stop.”
“I know baby. I know. That’s why this is so much different than…well, than with other men.”
With that she was silent. I reached around her leg and rest my hand atop her clit and pussy again. I rested my face on her thigh and waited. A thin stream of excitement ran over her perineum and flowed around the purple dildo resting inside bottom.
“Okay, Josh. A little more.”
I watched, fascinated, cock aching and dripping, as the dildo disappeared into my mom’s body.
“It’s so strange,” she gasped. “I feel it in my butt yet it I feel it in my pussy too.”
“Okay to keep going?”
“Yes,” she sighed. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but it feels good.”
“Good, I’m glad,” I replied.
I pulled it back, reinserted. Did it again a little faster.
“Honey, make me cum. Please.”
I repositioned myself on the pillow and removed my arm from around her leg. I pushed one finger into her pussy and began to fuck her with it. Then two. When I added a third, I leaned forward and captured her clit between my lips.
My fingers worked her pussy. The dildo her ass. I could feel it against my fingers as it moved in and out of her ass. My lips and tongue surrounded her clit.
It did not take very long.
Her back arched. I rose up higher to keep my lips on her clit. She stiffened. Sucked in a deep breath. Held it for what seemed ages then let it out in a huffed, incoherent, nearly silent scream.
Her pussy clenched at my fingers and hot water flowed over my hand. Her bottom nearly forced the dildo from her. Her knees slammed against the sides of my head as her heels drove into my back, forcing me against her body.
She began to buck, which made it hard to keep up with her.
“Oh, God, don’t stop. Don’t stop, Josh baby. Please.”
I did not. I worked my fingers, worked my mouth, worked the dildo.
She stilled again, her body relaxed, and I imagined she was done. I was wrong.
She began to thrash a second time, legs shaking. This time she grabbed the hair on my head and yanked my face tighter against her pussy.
“Oh, sweet fucking, Christ!” she cried loud enough I was afraid the neighbors might hear her even though the windows were closed.
She continued to quiver and yank at my hair as I gradually slowed down what I was doing. By the time she collapsed, panting, onto the bed I was gently kissing her clit. My fingers were inside her but unmoving, as was the purple phallus.
I went back to resting my head against her thigh.
“Take it out now, Josh,” she whispered after a time.
I did so with as much care as when I put in it her.
There was another gasp when it slipped free. I put it in the waiting dishpan and covered it with the washcloth.
Standing, I picked up the pillow. Using it had been a mistake. The entire time my cock had been leaking on it. Having no intention of washing a pillowcase at this stage of the game, I settled for flipping it over as I placed it on the bed.
I lifted mom’s limp legs onto the bed and scooted her up in the bed. I gave her the clean pillow and kept the one with precum for myself.
She rolled, exhausted onto her side.
I cradled by aching cock in the crack of her bottom. Its heat eased the ache enough I was able to sleep.
Sleep. School. Dinner.
Twenty-four more hours.
Tomorrow night it would be my turn.
As I drifted away it felt like an eternity.