And we had dispensed with the redirection of my ejaculation. So as another addition to the routine, I came on her every time, and every time I did, she put her nightgown in the wash. Mom didn’t wear anything under the nightgown, but the nightgown itself was modest, opaque and covered her body. It was functiona. I imagined going with her as she pulled it off afterwards, but I never did, and she never suggested I should. So for all of the intimacy of a purely sexual nature, and my total abandon in front of her, I had never seen her act sexually herself, nor had I seen her naked body.
My room had a desk against the window, and a set of twin beds set perpendicular to each other, with padded cubby holes behind them for pillows and the like. And my vaseline resting above it. I had a bare wood floor; if it were carpeted it would been stained beyond redemption.
One time, unlike any other time, she stopped rubbing part way through and held my penis firmly. Using it as a guide, she turned me to face one of the beds. “Close your eyes, and promise to keep them closed.” I looked at her, and nodded as I shut my eyes. Her grip shifted and she pulled me forward. The she let go, and a moment later her hand gripped my shaft again, pulling it gently forward, then down a bit, then forward again. I could feel warmth and softness and moisture on the tip, and I instinctively pushed toward the wetness as she pushed back toward me. I was now in a world of quiet, darkness and pleasure.
My mind went blank. I couldn’t process what was happening. I actually didn’t know where I had entered, or wasn’t willing to process it. Could I really be inside my mother? Could it be her mouth? But then my hands moved up and they came to the cheeks of her naked ass.
I had to be sure. With my palms cupped along each of the cheeks, I moved my right hand to the top of her crack down, then ran it down the crack over the dimple that was her asshole, and just below that to her skin stretched against the top of the shaft of my penis. I thrust slowly and could feel my penis moving in until my finger was touching my hair at the base and then out until I could feel the ridge of my head. I moved my hands back to using her cheeks as grips and continued thrusting slowly and deeply.
This was a different sensation from all the days and nights of jerking off. I was not in control of the pressure on my penis. And there was no firm grip running up and down my shaft. It was like I was moving through a warm, dewy cloud. The only sense of friction and rubbing was on the underside as I pushed forward, and then only if I rocked up and down as I did. And this was also new: there was the feeling of pressure on my tip at the end of my thrust – I was pushing up against the top of her vagina.
I felt one of her hands rubbing herself just above my shaft. Her fingers occasionally swirled along me, her nails giving little scratches. I was finally seeing Mom pleasuring herself. She was going faster and faster, hitting against my shaft harder and harder as she did. Then she let out a sound, “uh”, in a deep voice that was not her own, like with a cough. Mom’s body shook, the walls of her vagina squeezed against me, which made me want to thrust all the harder.