I finally moved down and ran my tongue into her slit from behind and was immediately blessed with a mouthful of her sweet, syrupy cum. I ate her pussy like that for a good hour, then she called me off not because she had had enough, but because she now wanted to do a sixty-nine. Hey, great for me. I lay down and she climbed atop me. I pulled her sweet, sweet pussy to my mouth and sucked her clit, moving my tongue in circular motions around it at an excruciatingly slow speed; she was literally dripping cum into my mouth, my treat for a job well done.
My penis remained untouched for the better part of thirty minutes, so entrenched had she become in my special treatment of her pussy, but finally she bit the bullet and took me into her mouth. Mom sucked my cock oh-so slowly, savoring every inch of it as it filled her mouth and throat. She sucked me just like that for I don’t knowhow long, but I finally shot a massive load into her mouth. She swallowed every savory drop of it, then collapsed on me.
I helped her turn around where she was lying in my arms, her head on my chest. “I love you,” Mom said to me. She fell asleep shortly after.
The remainder of the week was spent making preparations for the fish fry on Saturday. Bill Cummings had volunteered to do the cooking—he was everyone’s go-to guy, he assured me—and the Renfroe twins, Abigail and Annabelle, volunteered for food prep, “Just as long as you aren’t serving any mullet.” I assured them it was all bass and catfish. Mom was to make the hushpuppies, and of course the cheese grits were on me. Perfect cheese grits are so simple to make: Water, grits, butter, salt, pepper, cheese. Why people add milk or sugar or anything else is beyond me.
Leading up to Saturday, Mom’s and my days were filled with continuing our inventory of her belongings while our nights were filled with making love. She had not once stepped foot back into the guest room since I fucked her silly. I guess she purged herself of whatever guilt must have harbored itself over the years. Regardless, I was glad to see that monkey off her back so that we could concentrate on other things.
The fish fry went as well as it could have. All who were invited did attend, so we were able to handle everything all at once instead of in increments. Mom passed her items out to her friends, after which she announced that she was dying. Shock, disbelief, and even a little mayhem ensued as some could not accept the fact that she would not be here this time next year. With the help of Ray Underwood, the pastor at Mom’s church, we got things under control. Mom told everyone in attendance that if they wished to spend time with her to say their final good-byes that they should do so over the next few months, because once she really started withering away, she was cutting off all contact with everyone. This announcement was met with more tumult, but she stood her ground. We both knew there would be some backlash to this once she stopped seeing anyone, but we were of the mind that what mattered most were her feelings, not theirs.
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