There was something so warm and intimate about that moment as I leaned down and found her lips with mine. Her lips were sweet and supple as we kissed. The kiss started out tender and loving, but it quickly grew more intense as I felt my mother’s tongue force its way between my lips.
An explosion of excitement fired off down inside my cock as I felt her hot, probing tongue find its way into my mouth. I’d never French kissed a woman before, I felt like every part of me was going to explode. The tip of my Mother’s tongue brushed across my tongue and another flash of excitement ripped through my peter making it twitch again. I was amazed it didn’t just cream right then!
Then my ma’s fingers curled around the back of my head as she clenched me against her and we were engrossed in our kissing, lovers locked together as one. We were touching from head to toe and where our skin came in contact it was hot like someone had touched a glowing ember against me. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t see as my eyes had instinctively fluttered shut. I could feel every pulsing thud of my thundering heart as it raced inside my chest.
At last we broke for air. Gasping, trying to catch my breath, I looked down at my mother and saw that she was looking up at me. I had never seen such a look of love and warmth before. It made me feel like a little boy basking in his mommy’s love. I was lost and I knew that I would never find my way back without my her to guide me, lead me, and show me the way.
“Come,” I heard her whisper as she untangled herself from me, leaving one arm wrapped around my waist. Then she turned and slowly stepped toward her room, guiding me as I stumbled along beside her.
As she did, I once again became aware of the roar of the rain beating down on the roof above. The storm raging inside my head had been so loud it had drowned out the sounds of the wild downpour outside. Then a deafening clap of thunder shook the house and I felt Mother’s arm tighten around my waist.
“Hurry—” she whispered, walking faster almost running toward the open doorway leading into her room.
Suddenly we were standing beside her bed. Unlike mine, Mother’s bed was always neatly made up. Reaching down, she quickly threw back the covers and crawled up on them. I was a little boy again; a young boy, alone and afraid on a stormy night. But there was hope. Refuge from the thunder and lightning outside. I was being invited into the safest, the most amazing hideaway imaginable. My Mother’s Bed!
Smiling tenderly, holding her arms outstretched up to me, she welcomed me onto her mattress. My legs wouldn’t move. I was paralyzed again. I wanted to join her so much, but something was holding me back. This was my mother! How could I do this to her? Something deep inside my psyche was rebelling against the thought of committing this horrible crime against nature.
“Ma . . .” I whimpered as that part of me that was resisting tried to tell her that it was wrong.
She seemed to sense my weakness. Sense that I was wavering in a moral dilemma as she gradually spread her legs apart and slowly ran her fingers up the tangle of blond curls covering her womanhood.