I just made my mommy cum on my fingers.
I pulled my fingers out, looked at how wet they were, then put them in my mouth, tasting my Mom’s pussy.
She took a deep relaxing breath followed by a heavy sigh of relief, or maybe release. The bra straps that had fallen off of her shoulders she pulled them back up to hang loosely still. There was a silence that grew longer with every breath. I waited to see what she wanted next. I didn’t want to do something not wanted and be reprimanded. Maybe she was collecting her thoughts on what she wanted next.
“Come over here, in front of me,” she said, “I want you to massage my neck and shoulders and scalp.” She confirmed this by patting the cushion beneath her. “Come on.”
I wiped my fingers on my pants to dry them. Oh God, my erection tented my sweatpants, she would definitely see, she would know! I was suddenly very anxious. Then she folded her arms again and laid her head down. My own embarrassing relief washed over me. I shuffled over. The space between the couch and the coffee table was tight but I was able to squeeze between them. On my knees still, my calves and feet were under the couch giving me the most space possible.
I went to work. I moved her wavy brown hair to either side of her neck and started to rub the muscles their. I slowly moved my way down to her shoulders, then back up again. It was surreal. After what had just happened, we were what? Back to normal? Like nothing ever happened, or like it was a common occurrence? I didn’t know what to do or think, so I just kept going, enjoying it while it lasted. I gazed longingly at her back, at the freckles and beauty marks. The curve of her buttocks, her motherly hips.
“Don’t forget my scalp, Honey,” she said softly.
I took her head in my hands and started to rub her scalp. There was the sound of my fingers rasping through her hair, and I was reminded of the sounds made when I was massaging her pussy. Then she tilted her head up. I paused.
“Keep massaging my head, it feels good,” she said. So I did.
As I massaged her head she began to move it side to side slightly. Then I heard her inhale deeply. Oh God! My erection! She was so close it.
She again propped herself up on her elbows. “Keep going,” she said, “On my head.” So I did. I massaged around her temples, down behind her ears, at the base of her skull.
She reached forward and gently but firmly grabbed hold of my hips and pulled me towards her until my sweatpants and the leaking cock beneath was touching her face. My cock was touching my moms face! She moved her head from side to side again, rubbing my cock across her nose. She inhaled, again and again, smelling me, smelling my own arousal.
My massaging grew less and less focused as I was bewildered as to what was happening, and to what might happen.
The hands on my hips crawled up to my waistband and her fingers curled under and pulled them down, down, down, freeing my aching cock. It stood out long and proud from its thatch of pubic hair. My sweatpants went down, down, down, to my knees. Just as I had done to her minutes earlier. She inhaled my scent again, rubbing my cock with her nose.