Yes, I’d noticed she had nice tits and ass before, but it hadn’t been attached to my desire. Yes, I’d noticed before that her legs looked great in stockings, but I’d never thought of my hand being between her thighs. No, I certainly never imagined that the first woman I might try to sleep with would be my mother. But my sex soaked brain was telling me to try, and the hard-on that hadn’t gone down all day agreed.
I could barely eat dinner and when we were done I asked her if she wanted to sit on the back porch. It was a warm June evening and we sat on the love-seat. It would have been nice to have a fragrant breeze and a million stars over us, but it was overcast and rather humid. I put my arm over the back of the love-seat like a kid on his first date at the movies, angling to rest it on his girl’s shoulder.
I never would have said anything if I didn’t have the confidence those e-mails instilled. My heart thudded in my chest and I said the only thing I could come up with all day to see if any of this was real. I said, “Mom, I’ve been having feelings about you.” When she asked me what kind of feelings, I started to freeze up and got nervous. I didn’t think I could say anything.
But mom said, “You can talk to me Paul; there’s nothing we can’t talk about.”
I said, “I think you’re pretty.” Boy, talk about whimping out.
She smiled and said, “Thanks baby.” In the silence that followed, her eyes said, ‘Say more.’
I said, “Mom, I get excited when I’m with you. I know I shouldn’t because you’re my mother, but I do.”
I could hear her breath as she said, “We can’t always help the way we feel, I know that, but you can tell me; I won’t be upset.” I looked at her breasts as they stretched the soft cotton of her top.
I said, “Mom, I want to do things a guy isn’t supposed to want to do with his mother.” She looked like she was searching for the right words. She was breathing deeper and with each breath her tits came out farther.
She said “You really feel this way about me Paul?”
Before any reasonable thought could stop me, I impulsively bent and kissed her rising breasts. I was more shocked than mom was. She looked at me for a second and she said, “Paul…what are you doing?”
I didn’t want to talk; I didn’t want to explain about the e-mails. She had let me kiss her tits and as I said, “I don’t know mom…I want you.” I leaned in and kissed her neck. I held a breast that filled my hand and said, “They’re perfect.”
She said, “Oh Paul…baby…” She looked into my eyes and then her lips were on mine. It didn’t last long, but it was lots more than a mother’s kiss. She was trying to catch her breath. She pulled her top out of her skirt and when I realized what she was doing, I watched with building excitement as she lifted her top to her neck and her tits bounced a little. She put her thumbs in and pulled the soft white bra down under her breasts exposing both of them.
What struck me first was how big her nipples were. They practically capped the ends of her tits which were being held out to me by the uplift of her bra. Mom cupped one of her boobs and offered it to me. It was smooth and elongated. A few fine green veins that decorated her big nipple only added to its perfection. I took it in my mouth as she closed her eyes and held my head. She said, “Yes baby, yes, yes…” She said it softer and softer as she stroked my hair.