Newspaper article brings Ben & his mother together

The more I thought about it the more I got to like it. I began to see her not only as a mother, but as a woman…a woman like the widow, with feelings…needs. I started to get horny just thinking about mum, and wished it was my turn with the widow so I could get some relief, but it wasn’t my day.

I was just going to start and masturbate when mum called me.

“Lunch time Ben, it’s on the table.”

Reluctantly I put my penis away resolving to deal with its problems later, and went to the kitchen for lunch.

As we ate I started to look at mum – sort of taking an inventory of her assets. She was quite a bit younger than the widow, and certainly a lot better looking.

The track suit didn’t give a good view of her figure, but obviously I seen her dressed in other clothes and just that morning over breakfast I’d had that view of her breasts; not overly large, but nicely rounded and firm.

Her mouth didn’t look as sensual as the widow’s, but it had an interestingly short upper lip with a fuller and slightly protruding lower lip that often looked shiny and moist.

But it was her hair and eyes I’d always found most alluring, the reddish gold hair and her long lidded dark eyes that slanted upwards towards their outer edge, giving her a slightly oriental look.

She glanced up at me from her plate of soup and caught me looking at her. Her face flushed and she looked quickly down again.

I tried to hurry through the meal so that I could get back to my room and masturbate, but I seemed to be having trouble swallowing.

We ate in silence, both of us wrapped in our own thoughts. I wanted to try and work out what she was thinking, and continued looking at her, and kept getting caught doing it.

Mum seemed to be agitated and was having trouble sitting still. As she spooned the soup I could see her hands trembling slightly, and she was breathing rapidly, causing her breasts to rise and fall quickly.

One moment she glanced up at me and we looked into each others eyes and I could see her dilated pupils.

Suddenly she rose and grabbing her plate with its partially finished soup she hurried agitatedly over to the sink. She stood there with her back to me, her head bent, her hands on the rim of the sink, and her shoulders moving with each breath she took.

In a moment of what I suppose was compulsion I stood up and went to her, and parting the back of her hair I kissed the nape of her neck and whispered, “I’d never tell, mum.”

She leaned back against me and putting my arms round her I cupped her breasts with my hands. I felt her high firm buttocks pressing against me, teasing my penis. I could hear her breathing heavily and reaching down I pulled up the top of her track suit until her breasts were uncovered; I took them in my hands, gently pressing her nipples.

“Don’t darling…don’t,” she gasped; “Please…please don’t…oh…oh… do this to me unless you’re going to…oh darling… go all the way. Don’t work me…oh…up and leave me…ah…ah…hanging; you don’t know what that…oh don’t darling…does to a woman when she’s…ah…oh…”

Please wait…

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