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Andrew’s Delightful Attributes
Andrew’s Delightful Attributes.
The women in Andrew’s life, are getting frisky.
Based on a post by Meow
5 meow. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
Mom catches Andrew Solo.
Eliza woke up to her Saturday morning and rolled over to
look at her clock, it said 9am, which was an hour before she usually rose. She
knew Andrew would already be up because he was an early riser; like his father
had been. So she pulled a robe around herself and headed downstairs quietly.
When she entered the kitchen there was no one there, she checked around the
house but didn't see him. Still sleepy she let the mystery and worry go and
made herself some coffee and a bagel.
She finished her breakfast quickly because felt a little uncomfortable with
the dead silence in the house. She wondered where her son went. He tended to be
pretty active in the mornings but didn't usually leave the house till he saw
her. Some mornings Andrew would work out in the garage, but that was not where
he was this early morning. She didn't see a note around anywhere, so she went
back upstairs, to check her phone. Maybe he texted her before he left the
house?
Eliza didn't feel any urgency yet, just mild curiosity as she went back up
the stairs. On this pass through, she purposely looked at Andrew's bedroom door
for signs of life. It was half open, quiet and dark inside. Suddenly Eliza
believed her son must still be in bed, and she stepped over and gently pushed
his door further, opening the room up to her view. Suddenly she could see
Andrew sitting at his desk, against the far wall, with headphones on.
"Oh." Eliza uttered quietly, feeling silly for her worry. Of
course he was in his room.
Andrew hadn't noticed her behind him. He was just sitting there, staring at
the screen and moving his shoulder.
Eliza finally looked at the screen to find an up close view of a naked
woman's body, and saw her shaved cunt being fucked by a pale pink cock. She
gasped and her eyes locked onto the porn her son was watching. For a least a
minute she just stood there watching her son beat off. Minutes went by and she
didn't move.
“Is my cock bigger than Dad’s?” Andrew asked the Milf in the video.
The video zoomed out and she could see the actors going at it. Her mouth
dropped open. The actress was tall and blonde, like she was. And curvy with the
same hairstyle as Eliza. The actor fucking her was young and superficially like
Andrew too.
It was obvious Andrew had picked this video as a fantasy for him and
her together. Eliza closed her mouth, blinking in the quiet that was only
broken by the soft fleshy fapping sounds of her son's hand on his cock and his
ragged breathing.
At the same moment her own nipples tightened and her clit pulsed and began
to inflame her sex. She was responding to the idea that her son was fantasizing
about having sex with her. Her hand slid up the door jam and she tried to
control her breathing and slow down her strong physical reaction. Her son was
just stepping up his, though; arm jerking faster and tiny whimpers spilled out
of his lips.
She felt scared, not willing to take one step farther in his room. Shame
rearing up to scream at her, for watching and responding; and feeling any sort
of urge when it came to Andrew.
She gripped the door knob and backed up a step, fully intending to flee this
very moment. As her shoulders turned away from his room, she heard her son
utter words that slammed into her like a freight train. "Yeah mom... you
love my cock too.. Don't you?"
Eliza swiftly retreated from that spot and went into her private bathroom
and locked the door. Her heart was racing and panic leaking into her brain
Eliza slumped down on her shaggy toilet seat cover and spread her legs. With
fingers over her panties she explored her sex and shivered at her sensitivity,
with a broken little sob she snaked her fingers under the waistband of her
panties and glided over her drenched clit. It frightened her how quickly and
feverishly she had responded to what she had seen. It was so utterly wrong.
As she teased her clit, her brain tried to rationalize it.
Masturbation is a natural thing, she told herself. And it's Andrew's
private business. Plus, mother-son fantasies are just a phase that young men
grow out of quickly. Her own sensual reaction is just a sensitivity caused by
not having had sex in a while, and her libido is just easily triggered. All
normal and no way shameful; unless acted upon.
It would never be acted upon.
Eliza took a hot shower, and imagined her son fucking her in missionary
position, looking him right in the face, as his cock pumped firmly in and out of
her. Of kissing him; he was so handsome! It set her right over the edge and she
moaned loudly, helpless to the overwhelming sensation of a strong orgasm. Her
bare feet pressed against the tile floor of the double shower, and her hips
rocked as she prolonged her pleasure.
After a few minutes to breath dried off again and intended to get dressed.
When she walked into her room to her closet she felt a wet sensation, looking
down she saw that her juices had leaked down her leg, nearly to her knee. Which
had never happened before in her life. Back to the bathroom to clean up, and
then she began to put herself together and get ready for the day.
She emerged from her room to an empty hallway and a closed door to her son's
bedroom. At some point he had closed it, which made her wonder if he'd caught
her. But she didn't think so. Eliza just tried to act normal and walk down the
stairs and into the kitchen, to grab her purse and keys. She had a few errands
to do. She intended to just leave him a note and avoid him until her
awkwardness faded.
But he was sitting at the counter, eating a bowl of cereal and texting with
one hand. He looked up with his usual smile to say good morning to her. His
face happy and relaxed; and not anxious at all. She just faked it and said good
morning and made another cup of coffee for herself. Andrew wouldn't have any
idea that she had already had one, today.
As she stirred her sugar into her coffee Andrew came up behind her and
reached around her to turn the sink on and rinse his bowl. He was standing way
closer than he needed to, and it made Eliza's skin crawl. She hadn't ever
noticed Andrew purposely invading her personal space until now. That he might
possibly have a motive behind it, not just casual familiarity. He was pulling a
power move that men love to make in bars, where they use the excuse of a busy
bar to invade your space and get noticed, get close to you, even smell you.
Reaching an arm passed you to hail the bartender but really to hail the lady's
attention. If she notices and is interested she starts the conversation, if she
doesn't then he will push on with an opening line.
"Hey mom, you feeling alright?"
He pushed. Eliza paled and hesitated trying to abolish her train of thought.
"Of course, why?"
"Well, you're stiff as a board."
Now that he said something, she noticed, slumping her shoulders and trying
to ease her own tension she let out a tiny nervous laugh and focused on herself
for a moment and a small lie. "You are so right, I woke up with some back
pain today, maybe I will take some Advil."
He nodded and moved past her to pick up his phone and slide it in his
pocket. "Hey mom,I am going to head over to Peter's, we are gonna work on
his car." Eliza nodded quickly, "That's great, I am going to go run
some errands and I will pick you up for dinner if you aren't home before
me."
They both headed for the front door and he opened it and stepped into the
doorway making her squeeze passed him. Eliza was so determined not to be
awkward that she fell into his trap and ended up brushing the front of her body
with his. It was only when she felt the contact on her nipples did she realize
what he had done. Then Eliza made another mistake and looked him in the eyes.
He was staring at her with smoky bedroom eyes and a smirk tugging at his
lips.
Another sexy freight train mowed her down and her eyes almost crossed.
"You're blushing mom."
In complete panic she ditched the situation and sped off towards her car.
"Bye Andrew, text me later!" Hopped in her car, started it and zoomed
off as quick as she could. Leaving her laughing son behind her.
Andrew had accepted his feelings towards his mother recently, and with it a
sense of taboo had settled in to stoke that sexual fire inside him. Lately he
had wanted to tell his mother about it but knew that she could never agree.
That a fight like that might end up with him out of the house. Maybe with her
cutting him out of her life, the idea of which terrified Andrew.
But he couldn't resist showing her in tiny ways that he wanted her. This
morning was as bold as he had ever tried and she had obviously noticed this
time. Which is the first time she so obviously had.
It was so exciting that he was standing on the front porch with a boner in
his jeans. Andrew just turned around went back in the house and gently closed
the door, headed to his room and freed his cock. And relived the events of the
past 10 hours. Here’s the way he retells it;
I only wanted a glass of water, I often woke
up and got one in the middle of the night. But as I came down the dark staircase,
I can see over the backrest of the couch, that my mom lying on the couch,
watching TV still, at two in the morning? At first, I thought she was just
sleeping, until she flopped over from her side to her back while lying out on
the couch. The room was dark, except for the glow from the TV screen.
Her eyes were closed and her face was tense, I
almost asked her if she was all right; but the words died on my lips. Her hand
was shoved inside her thin pajama shorts, and she was rocking her hips. The
smallest moan spilled from her mouth.
I was frozen, my eyes locked onto the sight of
her. I even had the perfect view from near the top of the stairs which let me
see right over the couch. With the hand she wasn't using inside her shorts she unbuttoned
her thin knit pajama top, then reached up and pinched her big dark stiff nipple,
pulling and teasing it. I could feel my own heartbeat pounding in my chest.
She let out another soft moan and my cock
stirred to life. I want to tell it; ‘no.’ I inwardly resolved that it was
wrong; so wrong. But it just kept growing. I was rooted to the spot, and this
moment seemed to last forever. Her breathing came faster and her face grimaced
more.
She suddenly pulled her hand out but then
grabbed her shorts and yanked them down beyond her knees. She spread her legs
so wide apart I wondered how she was still that flexible. Her thighs were toned
and her skin glowed in the TV light. The contrast was pleasing in the dark
quiet night, the quiet words coming from the TV was the only soft sound. It was
the ending of some romantic chick flick.
She had a nice trim patch of curls between her
legs, she looked so normal, like any other woman. But, this woman just so
happened to be my mother. I had seen good-looking older women before, and I had
known my mom was, too.
But she had always been very private about her
sexual life, and I rarely saw her go on dates. The sight of her touching
herself was so surprising; and exciting.
My cock was fully hard now, stretching my knit
shorts out, obvious to the world. Why doesn't she open her eyes and see me
standing right there, above her?
Instead, she stretched her legs wider apart
and dipped her fingers down into her open cunt.
I could hear the wet noises in the quiet
room. Her free left hand gripped over the armrest of the couch.
Another moan, louder this time. I can't help
but wonder how wet she is, how her pussy would feel if I just walked down the
rest of these steps and shoved my raging cock into her wet, swollen, wide-set
cunt lips, and deep into her beautiful neglected cunt.
Would she like it? Would my mom moan for my
cock, like that?
I watched her movements become fast and
erratic. It looks painful. I wonder if she is close? Anticipation rises in me,
I want to see her finish rubbing it out. My cock is pulsing. My hands itch to
touch it. It seems almost natural to touch myself while watching her, touching
herself. But I don't, because a big part of me feels it's so wrong! And a small
part of me is hoping to sink my willing and eager cock into my gorgeous sexy mom.
She always told me that my changing body will
awaken new feelings; and any feelings I have are natural, that I shouldn't
repress or feel shame about my feelings, but accept them and move on. But what
about this feeling? This urge to slam my cock deep into my mother’s beautiful
cunt, and hear her moan for me.
She was biting her lips now, she whispers into
the dark, "Almost. Almost; almost."
My feet seemed to slide down the steps
further, not under my own will-power. I was just close enough now, that I could
see her fingers parting those curls, watching her hips thrust against those
fingers and her tits jiggle from her desperate movements.
Her body starts shivering and jerking, digging
her heels into the cushions, she half shimmies up the couch more, so her shoulders
are now on the rounded armrest, and head hangs over, enough to stretch her body
out. She is making small noises then her body jerks and her left hand flies up
to her mouth and her whole body seems to tense up.
I can’t see her face now, but her towering brown
nipples are hard and raised up from her magnificent natural tits.
Her body bounces and jerks with her orgasm, as
if it is trying to explode out from her. Her head rocks side to side, and I
clearly hear her muffled moans, her eyes are hidden from me, as her head still
dangles down. Aloud grunt signals the release and a small squirt shoots out of
her cunt, landing on the throw blanket under her full hips. Finally, her body
goes limp on the couch, slowly her hand slides out of her pussy and she closes
her legs. Her breathing sounds are loud, but the rhythm is receeding.
I take a breath, the frozen spell seems to be
broken.
I stealthly sneak back up the rest of the
stairs, and into my room.
I can move again! I look down at my knit
shorts and finally use my hands to free my cock from the tented cloth. As I had
known, it was the deep red it turns when I am very very turned on. I can even
feel a bit of precum sliding down the tip when I grab it, just squeezing it for
a moment. Pleasure crawls up my spine from my first touch, I'm so sensitive
that I know I would come fast.
But part of me doesn't want to jack off,
doesn't want to waste this glorious hard on. That part of me wants to go
downstairs and put it in that wet and moaning woman. But she's my mom, and that
is not going to happen.
I guess I craved some confrontation though. I
guess it’s the alpha-male in me. Mom say’s I’m becoming more and more like my
deceased father.
So I drop my loose shorts and go for some tight
boxer briefs and thick black sweat pants that I know have a tight waistband, I
strapped my dick to my body that way, and throw on a loose black T-shirt. When
I come out of my room again, with my empty glass, I close the door kind of hard;
and stomp heavily on the first few steps of the stairs.
I'm so nervous, I feel like as soon as she
looks at me, she will know. She will know that I know, what she was doing.
Usually she could tell just from the look on my face, how I felt. My mom is
just that type of person, she understands.
But would she understand... what I had been
thinking? I tried to put on a sleepy casual sort of expression.
I hear her moving fast on the upholstery of
the couch, and realize she must be quickly putting those tiny shorts back on. A
part of me wishes to tell her to take them off again, but I only take a deep
breath as I descend the last step. I look up slowly at her.
"Oh, you're still awake?" I Pretend
there is nothing weird going on.
Her eyes were large with alarm, and she seemed
a little confused or flustered. But I already know why, I don't need to ask.
Then she responds; "Oh um... yeah. But
I'm going to bed now," She turns quickly and grabs the remote, to turn off
the TV.
"Okay..."I said as I turned on the
stairway light.
"So.. are you alright? Why are you
up?" she redirects the topic back to me.
She didn't notice the glass in my hand, so I
raised it up while answering her, "I'm thirsty."
Her breathing is still fast, her nipples were
still pointing out of her thin misbuttoned pajama top.
I turned away and went into the kitchen,
poured myself more water; and walked back across the livingroom, towards the
stairs. She was waiting for me with her hand gripping the banister rail of the
stairs like she was gonna fall or something. "Ready?"
I just nodded.
She went up the stairs ahead of me. I was forced
to watch her legs and ass stretch and bend as she climbed. The crotch of her
thin cotton knit pajama shorts were wet, and a little trail of juice was
running down her inner thigh.
My mom has a great ass, I had heard it said before,
but only now in this moment in those tiny shorts did it become real to me.
And then I took a deep breath, expecting just
air but I got this scent. This scent made my brain tingle and my cock pulse,
before I realized what it was. I could smell my mom’s fresh cum-filled pussy,
she smelled hot, like a woman who needs it bad. Creamy, fleshy, salty, sweet, I
breathed in deep to get more. Part of it was comforting, the smell of my mother
when she wraps her arms around me, but now the image of her three fingers
pushing into her pussy, came to mind. The image seared into my brain.
The worst is that she smelled better than
Roxanne, The girl Amelia introduced me to at the homecoming dance. My mother's
pussy smells better than high school pussy!
Why did I have to find that out? Why did I
have to wake up and see that tonight? How was I going to face her tomorrow, and
the day after?
We were finally at the top of the stairs. Mom
went over to her bedroom door and opened it a crack, then looked at me.
"So, I hope my movie didn't wake you?"
Now, I knew what she was really saying. She
hopes I didn't hear her masturbating in the middle of the night.
"Nope, just thirsty. but mom;" then
I paused. Where was this going? What could I possibly say to her?
"You smell, good." As soon as the
words left my mouth, I bolted into my room, panic taking my heartbeat to my
throat. Why did I say that! Why did I say anything at all?
View all episodes
By [email protected]
4
88 ratings
Andrew’s Delightful Attributes.
The women in Andrew’s life, are getting frisky.
Based on a post by Meow
5 meow. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
Mom catches Andrew Solo.
Eliza woke up to her Saturday morning and rolled over to
look at her clock, it said 9am, which was an hour before she usually rose. She
knew Andrew would already be up because he was an early riser; like his father
had been. So she pulled a robe around herself and headed downstairs quietly.
When she entered the kitchen there was no one there, she checked around the
house but didn't see him. Still sleepy she let the mystery and worry go and
made herself some coffee and a bagel.
She finished her breakfast quickly because felt a little uncomfortable with
the dead silence in the house. She wondered where her son went. He tended to be
pretty active in the mornings but didn't usually leave the house till he saw
her. Some mornings Andrew would work out in the garage, but that was not where
he was this early morning. She didn't see a note around anywhere, so she went
back upstairs, to check her phone. Maybe he texted her before he left the
house?
Eliza didn't feel any urgency yet, just mild curiosity as she went back up
the stairs. On this pass through, she purposely looked at Andrew's bedroom door
for signs of life. It was half open, quiet and dark inside. Suddenly Eliza
believed her son must still be in bed, and she stepped over and gently pushed
his door further, opening the room up to her view. Suddenly she could see
Andrew sitting at his desk, against the far wall, with headphones on.
"Oh." Eliza uttered quietly, feeling silly for her worry. Of
course he was in his room.
Andrew hadn't noticed her behind him. He was just sitting there, staring at
the screen and moving his shoulder.
Eliza finally looked at the screen to find an up close view of a naked
woman's body, and saw her shaved cunt being fucked by a pale pink cock. She
gasped and her eyes locked onto the porn her son was watching. For a least a
minute she just stood there watching her son beat off. Minutes went by and she
didn't move.
“Is my cock bigger than Dad’s?” Andrew asked the Milf in the video.
The video zoomed out and she could see the actors going at it. Her mouth
dropped open. The actress was tall and blonde, like she was. And curvy with the
same hairstyle as Eliza. The actor fucking her was young and superficially like
Andrew too.
It was obvious Andrew had picked this video as a fantasy for him and
her together. Eliza closed her mouth, blinking in the quiet that was only
broken by the soft fleshy fapping sounds of her son's hand on his cock and his
ragged breathing.
At the same moment her own nipples tightened and her clit pulsed and began
to inflame her sex. She was responding to the idea that her son was fantasizing
about having sex with her. Her hand slid up the door jam and she tried to
control her breathing and slow down her strong physical reaction. Her son was
just stepping up his, though; arm jerking faster and tiny whimpers spilled out
of his lips.
She felt scared, not willing to take one step farther in his room. Shame
rearing up to scream at her, for watching and responding; and feeling any sort
of urge when it came to Andrew.
She gripped the door knob and backed up a step, fully intending to flee this
very moment. As her shoulders turned away from his room, she heard her son
utter words that slammed into her like a freight train. "Yeah mom... you
love my cock too.. Don't you?"
Eliza swiftly retreated from that spot and went into her private bathroom
and locked the door. Her heart was racing and panic leaking into her brain
Eliza slumped down on her shaggy toilet seat cover and spread her legs. With
fingers over her panties she explored her sex and shivered at her sensitivity,
with a broken little sob she snaked her fingers under the waistband of her
panties and glided over her drenched clit. It frightened her how quickly and
feverishly she had responded to what she had seen. It was so utterly wrong.
As she teased her clit, her brain tried to rationalize it.
Masturbation is a natural thing, she told herself. And it's Andrew's
private business. Plus, mother-son fantasies are just a phase that young men
grow out of quickly. Her own sensual reaction is just a sensitivity caused by
not having had sex in a while, and her libido is just easily triggered. All
normal and no way shameful; unless acted upon.
It would never be acted upon.
Eliza took a hot shower, and imagined her son fucking her in missionary
position, looking him right in the face, as his cock pumped firmly in and out of
her. Of kissing him; he was so handsome! It set her right over the edge and she
moaned loudly, helpless to the overwhelming sensation of a strong orgasm. Her
bare feet pressed against the tile floor of the double shower, and her hips
rocked as she prolonged her pleasure.
After a few minutes to breath dried off again and intended to get dressed.
When she walked into her room to her closet she felt a wet sensation, looking
down she saw that her juices had leaked down her leg, nearly to her knee. Which
had never happened before in her life. Back to the bathroom to clean up, and
then she began to put herself together and get ready for the day.
She emerged from her room to an empty hallway and a closed door to her son's
bedroom. At some point he had closed it, which made her wonder if he'd caught
her. But she didn't think so. Eliza just tried to act normal and walk down the
stairs and into the kitchen, to grab her purse and keys. She had a few errands
to do. She intended to just leave him a note and avoid him until her
awkwardness faded.
But he was sitting at the counter, eating a bowl of cereal and texting with
one hand. He looked up with his usual smile to say good morning to her. His
face happy and relaxed; and not anxious at all. She just faked it and said good
morning and made another cup of coffee for herself. Andrew wouldn't have any
idea that she had already had one, today.
As she stirred her sugar into her coffee Andrew came up behind her and
reached around her to turn the sink on and rinse his bowl. He was standing way
closer than he needed to, and it made Eliza's skin crawl. She hadn't ever
noticed Andrew purposely invading her personal space until now. That he might
possibly have a motive behind it, not just casual familiarity. He was pulling a
power move that men love to make in bars, where they use the excuse of a busy
bar to invade your space and get noticed, get close to you, even smell you.
Reaching an arm passed you to hail the bartender but really to hail the lady's
attention. If she notices and is interested she starts the conversation, if she
doesn't then he will push on with an opening line.
"Hey mom, you feeling alright?"
He pushed. Eliza paled and hesitated trying to abolish her train of thought.
"Of course, why?"
"Well, you're stiff as a board."
Now that he said something, she noticed, slumping her shoulders and trying
to ease her own tension she let out a tiny nervous laugh and focused on herself
for a moment and a small lie. "You are so right, I woke up with some back
pain today, maybe I will take some Advil."
He nodded and moved past her to pick up his phone and slide it in his
pocket. "Hey mom,I am going to head over to Peter's, we are gonna work on
his car." Eliza nodded quickly, "That's great, I am going to go run
some errands and I will pick you up for dinner if you aren't home before
me."
They both headed for the front door and he opened it and stepped into the
doorway making her squeeze passed him. Eliza was so determined not to be
awkward that she fell into his trap and ended up brushing the front of her body
with his. It was only when she felt the contact on her nipples did she realize
what he had done. Then Eliza made another mistake and looked him in the eyes.
He was staring at her with smoky bedroom eyes and a smirk tugging at his
lips.
Another sexy freight train mowed her down and her eyes almost crossed.
"You're blushing mom."
In complete panic she ditched the situation and sped off towards her car.
"Bye Andrew, text me later!" Hopped in her car, started it and zoomed
off as quick as she could. Leaving her laughing son behind her.
Andrew had accepted his feelings towards his mother recently, and with it a
sense of taboo had settled in to stoke that sexual fire inside him. Lately he
had wanted to tell his mother about it but knew that she could never agree.
That a fight like that might end up with him out of the house. Maybe with her
cutting him out of her life, the idea of which terrified Andrew.
But he couldn't resist showing her in tiny ways that he wanted her. This
morning was as bold as he had ever tried and she had obviously noticed this
time. Which is the first time she so obviously had.
It was so exciting that he was standing on the front porch with a boner in
his jeans. Andrew just turned around went back in the house and gently closed
the door, headed to his room and freed his cock. And relived the events of the
past 10 hours. Here’s the way he retells it;
I only wanted a glass of water, I often woke
up and got one in the middle of the night. But as I came down the dark staircase,
I can see over the backrest of the couch, that my mom lying on the couch,
watching TV still, at two in the morning? At first, I thought she was just
sleeping, until she flopped over from her side to her back while lying out on
the couch. The room was dark, except for the glow from the TV screen.
Her eyes were closed and her face was tense, I
almost asked her if she was all right; but the words died on my lips. Her hand
was shoved inside her thin pajama shorts, and she was rocking her hips. The
smallest moan spilled from her mouth.
I was frozen, my eyes locked onto the sight of
her. I even had the perfect view from near the top of the stairs which let me
see right over the couch. With the hand she wasn't using inside her shorts she unbuttoned
her thin knit pajama top, then reached up and pinched her big dark stiff nipple,
pulling and teasing it. I could feel my own heartbeat pounding in my chest.
She let out another soft moan and my cock
stirred to life. I want to tell it; ‘no.’ I inwardly resolved that it was
wrong; so wrong. But it just kept growing. I was rooted to the spot, and this
moment seemed to last forever. Her breathing came faster and her face grimaced
more.
She suddenly pulled her hand out but then
grabbed her shorts and yanked them down beyond her knees. She spread her legs
so wide apart I wondered how she was still that flexible. Her thighs were toned
and her skin glowed in the TV light. The contrast was pleasing in the dark
quiet night, the quiet words coming from the TV was the only soft sound. It was
the ending of some romantic chick flick.
She had a nice trim patch of curls between her
legs, she looked so normal, like any other woman. But, this woman just so
happened to be my mother. I had seen good-looking older women before, and I had
known my mom was, too.
But she had always been very private about her
sexual life, and I rarely saw her go on dates. The sight of her touching
herself was so surprising; and exciting.
My cock was fully hard now, stretching my knit
shorts out, obvious to the world. Why doesn't she open her eyes and see me
standing right there, above her?
Instead, she stretched her legs wider apart
and dipped her fingers down into her open cunt.
I could hear the wet noises in the quiet
room. Her free left hand gripped over the armrest of the couch.
Another moan, louder this time. I can't help
but wonder how wet she is, how her pussy would feel if I just walked down the
rest of these steps and shoved my raging cock into her wet, swollen, wide-set
cunt lips, and deep into her beautiful neglected cunt.
Would she like it? Would my mom moan for my
cock, like that?
I watched her movements become fast and
erratic. It looks painful. I wonder if she is close? Anticipation rises in me,
I want to see her finish rubbing it out. My cock is pulsing. My hands itch to
touch it. It seems almost natural to touch myself while watching her, touching
herself. But I don't, because a big part of me feels it's so wrong! And a small
part of me is hoping to sink my willing and eager cock into my gorgeous sexy mom.
She always told me that my changing body will
awaken new feelings; and any feelings I have are natural, that I shouldn't
repress or feel shame about my feelings, but accept them and move on. But what
about this feeling? This urge to slam my cock deep into my mother’s beautiful
cunt, and hear her moan for me.
She was biting her lips now, she whispers into
the dark, "Almost. Almost; almost."
My feet seemed to slide down the steps
further, not under my own will-power. I was just close enough now, that I could
see her fingers parting those curls, watching her hips thrust against those
fingers and her tits jiggle from her desperate movements.
Her body starts shivering and jerking, digging
her heels into the cushions, she half shimmies up the couch more, so her shoulders
are now on the rounded armrest, and head hangs over, enough to stretch her body
out. She is making small noises then her body jerks and her left hand flies up
to her mouth and her whole body seems to tense up.
I can’t see her face now, but her towering brown
nipples are hard and raised up from her magnificent natural tits.
Her body bounces and jerks with her orgasm, as
if it is trying to explode out from her. Her head rocks side to side, and I
clearly hear her muffled moans, her eyes are hidden from me, as her head still
dangles down. Aloud grunt signals the release and a small squirt shoots out of
her cunt, landing on the throw blanket under her full hips. Finally, her body
goes limp on the couch, slowly her hand slides out of her pussy and she closes
her legs. Her breathing sounds are loud, but the rhythm is receeding.
I take a breath, the frozen spell seems to be
broken.
I stealthly sneak back up the rest of the
stairs, and into my room.
I can move again! I look down at my knit
shorts and finally use my hands to free my cock from the tented cloth. As I had
known, it was the deep red it turns when I am very very turned on. I can even
feel a bit of precum sliding down the tip when I grab it, just squeezing it for
a moment. Pleasure crawls up my spine from my first touch, I'm so sensitive
that I know I would come fast.
But part of me doesn't want to jack off,
doesn't want to waste this glorious hard on. That part of me wants to go
downstairs and put it in that wet and moaning woman. But she's my mom, and that
is not going to happen.
I guess I craved some confrontation though. I
guess it’s the alpha-male in me. Mom say’s I’m becoming more and more like my
deceased father.
So I drop my loose shorts and go for some tight
boxer briefs and thick black sweat pants that I know have a tight waistband, I
strapped my dick to my body that way, and throw on a loose black T-shirt. When
I come out of my room again, with my empty glass, I close the door kind of hard;
and stomp heavily on the first few steps of the stairs.
I'm so nervous, I feel like as soon as she
looks at me, she will know. She will know that I know, what she was doing.
Usually she could tell just from the look on my face, how I felt. My mom is
just that type of person, she understands.
But would she understand... what I had been
thinking? I tried to put on a sleepy casual sort of expression.
I hear her moving fast on the upholstery of
the couch, and realize she must be quickly putting those tiny shorts back on. A
part of me wishes to tell her to take them off again, but I only take a deep
breath as I descend the last step. I look up slowly at her.
"Oh, you're still awake?" I Pretend
there is nothing weird going on.
Her eyes were large with alarm, and she seemed
a little confused or flustered. But I already know why, I don't need to ask.
Then she responds; "Oh um... yeah. But
I'm going to bed now," She turns quickly and grabs the remote, to turn off
the TV.
"Okay..."I said as I turned on the
stairway light.
"So.. are you alright? Why are you
up?" she redirects the topic back to me.
She didn't notice the glass in my hand, so I
raised it up while answering her, "I'm thirsty."
Her breathing is still fast, her nipples were
still pointing out of her thin misbuttoned pajama top.
I turned away and went into the kitchen,
poured myself more water; and walked back across the livingroom, towards the
stairs. She was waiting for me with her hand gripping the banister rail of the
stairs like she was gonna fall or something. "Ready?"
I just nodded.
She went up the stairs ahead of me. I was forced
to watch her legs and ass stretch and bend as she climbed. The crotch of her
thin cotton knit pajama shorts were wet, and a little trail of juice was
running down her inner thigh.
My mom has a great ass, I had heard it said before,
but only now in this moment in those tiny shorts did it become real to me.
And then I took a deep breath, expecting just
air but I got this scent. This scent made my brain tingle and my cock pulse,
before I realized what it was. I could smell my mom’s fresh cum-filled pussy,
she smelled hot, like a woman who needs it bad. Creamy, fleshy, salty, sweet, I
breathed in deep to get more. Part of it was comforting, the smell of my mother
when she wraps her arms around me, but now the image of her three fingers
pushing into her pussy, came to mind. The image seared into my brain.
The worst is that she smelled better than
Roxanne, The girl Amelia introduced me to at the homecoming dance. My mother's
pussy smells better than high school pussy!
Why did I have to find that out? Why did I
have to wake up and see that tonight? How was I going to face her tomorrow, and
the day after?
We were finally at the top of the stairs. Mom
went over to her bedroom door and opened it a crack, then looked at me.
"So, I hope my movie didn't wake you?"
Now, I knew what she was really saying. She
hopes I didn't hear her masturbating in the middle of the night.
"Nope, just thirsty. but mom;" then
I paused. Where was this going? What could I possibly say to her?
"You smell, good." As soon as the
words left my mouth, I bolted into my room, panic taking my heartbeat to my
throat. Why did I say that! Why did I say anything at all?
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