She touched herself and fought to remove her skirt she took off her panties and I was stunned into inaction. I looked at her pussy in wonder. I was mesmerized by the folds and the color and the fragrance until I felt her urging my head down. I kissed her belly and moved lower, uncertainly. I was in uncharted waters until mom said, “There, yes…no…yes…higher…YES THERE…yes there, yes…” After a while I understood, and my own intuitive urges took over. My mother’s pussy dripped honey and I love it. I had never done it before, but I loved it.
My cock was like a rock and my mother was saying, “Yes Jessie, yes, God yes…OH,OH,OH…OHHHhhhhh…” Even in my inexperience, I knew that my mother was coming, and I reveled in the sound of my name because I’d never it before in the throes of sexual passion. She said, “Oh Jessie, Oh Jessie, oh Jessie…ohhh…”
When she opened her eyes, she also opened her arms. She beckoned me and said, “Come baby.” I was overwhelmed. She was opening her legs, offering her pussy to me. She was saying I could be inside the place a woman only gives to her lover, the place society tells her never to give to her son. And my mother was about to give it to me.
She was gently holding her knees apart and I could see the moisture on the fine hairs over her pussy. Her stockings were a subtle color, yet when the sheer beige ended in a brownish band around her thighs, it was in stark contrast to her creamy skin. She was smiling, she was not ashamed, not conflicted. My mother wanted her son inside her pussy.
I took my pants off quickly and my hand was practically shaking as I directed the head of my cock to her soft folds. I pressed into my mother’s pussy. I expected it to be warm, but it was hot. I expected it to be wet, but it was soaked. I expected it to be soft, but it was a velvet glove massaging the length of my hard shaft as I pushed in as deep as I could go. And my mother said, “OH…Jess.”
I penetrated in and out of her, doing what I had never expected to be doing, and became the person I now wanted to be, a son making love to his mother. I was in a moment I never wanted to leave, stroking my mother’s wet pussy, listening to her say words only heard in fantasies, “Yes Jessie baby, you’re doing it so good for mommy…so good inside me.”
Her hips were moving to meet my thrusts and she pulled me into her with her hands fastened on my ass. I could feel her body trembling as I drove deep enough to make us one. And with each penetration into her welcoming channel, I fell in love with my mother.
And these are the words that always stay with me. Not because they’re so poetic or beautiful, but because they were the truth of that moment we shared. Mom said, “Jessie, I love you, and I always wanted you like this; as soon as you grew up I stopped wanting anybody else. I always wanted to tell you, to touch you, to have you, like this…like this…like this…” Her words matched our rhythm as a mother and son fucked and made love. At that moment, there was no difference.