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Finding Our Way
Chapter Two: Experimentation
Part 2
The morning's revelatory sex, the breakup with Kim, the day's anticipation of seeing each other again and the early evening's athletic return to sex left my mother and me in an exhausted euphoric daze. We stumbled through a diner of reheated leftovers, and lingered in the living room – and then in the bedroom - in our underwear (she’d changed out of the crotchless pair we'd used so well in favor of a simple silky peach colored pair and a matching spaghetti strap top. )
Tired from all the intensity, we simply lay together and talked for a while. I told her how deeply I'd enjoyed her french maid costume (“I could tell!” she said with a lazy smile,) and how I'd never seen her in that way before.
“What do you mean?” she asked. “In what way?”
“In two ways. Firstly, I've never seen you do anything like role play before,”She took my hand and gently bit my middle finger below the first knuckle. I had to clear my throat. “. . . and I've never seen you do anything even a little bit submissive. ”Her eyebrows raised. “I admit you weren't really very submissive in the costume, but calling me master and then getting down to open my pants and to take me in your mouth like that. . .
She released my finger from her teeth, and reached for my boxer shorts. “Well, no matter what sort of role I played, I was determined to get this in my mouth. ”I stiffened as she got her small hand through the hole in the front and around the base of my manhood. “But, yeah,” she continued, “I know what you mean. It was a little experiment. It was fun for me too. We can revisit that some time if you want to. ”She began running the very tips of her finger nails up and down the length of my shaft, never touching the head. “But not tonight, okay?”
“No, I agree. I've had enough experimentation for today. ” I said, running the palm of my hand up the arm that she was using to reach inside my shorts. “Nothing radical tonight. Nothing wild. ”I squeezed her shoulder, and inched closer to her.
Stroking me tighter now with the one hand, mom cupped my jawline and cheek with the other.
Mom slid towards me for a kiss, then she rolled onto her back and parted her dancer's legs as I approached. We shared a languid kiss as I climbed on top of her. I began rubbing her breasts through her top, and she began to tug my boxers off with short fierce jerks. I lifted the spaghetti-strapped top to her long angular neck, exposing and kissing her soft round breasts. She wasworking my cock with both hands now, twisting in opposite directions. She let out a small sigh, like someone makes after a swallow of a delicious drink.
I looked up from her succulent chest to her face; dark hair framing hungry green eyes and an open mouth. “When did you get your panties off?”I asked, amazed that I hadn't caught such an important event.
One of her hands came off my dick, and she dug her nails into my ass. “Fuck me now!I'll tell you later!”
I obliged. And, like each of the other times, Mom's cunt was the hottest wettest magical kingdom I'd ever had the privilege to explore.
We tongued and I kissed her face, neck and breasts; even her shoulders at one point. I drilled her with a steady long stroke for what must have been twenty five minutes to Mom's dirty cheering approval.
Finally, I decided to pick up the pace, and started fucking her in high gear. Her legs couldn't hold onto my waist any more, so she just spread them – nearly forming a horizontal line – and let me play. Her chest heaved and bounced magnificently above the gasping plane of her stomach as I shook her frame with my now glistening rod. My mother's dirty talk fell away to incoherent whooping and cries of glee.
We didn't flop around into multiple positions, and – as agreed – we didn't try anything new. But it was passionate and deeply intimate. It was just what we wanted.
My mother and I came together after she'd already coated my balls with her cream twice. Mom was so moved that she went down and licked my rod clean. I was emotionally and physically spent, so I couldn't respond in any way other than smiling and just enjoying it. When she was satisfied that she'd tasted us as best she could she came back up, and looked at me like I was some kind of great new discovery.
“That was wonderful,” my sylphlike mother said, as she lay her head on my chest, and slung a graceful thigh across my midsection.
I was so utterly satisfied that I didn't respond, opting instead to simply run my hand up and down the proffered thigh and stare at the ceiling.
“Don't worry,” she said, mistaking my silence for discontent.
I was eager to see what she had in mind, but for now I had to sleep.
I jumped her the following morning (Wednesday) before she could get into the shower. She had to brace herself against the rim of the tub while I fucked her like crazy from behind, and she practically sang about how deeply she agreed with my pole between her legs. Her tits swayed, begging for my fingers, and her hair flew wild. That tight little ass turned red with the percussion, but it never missed a beat.
I fingered her that evening in front of the television. She left my hand aching but frothy with her sex. In return, she gave me a little strip tease at bed time. Then she sucked me off while humping her naked lissome body against my leg, and fingering herself to a second orgasm. She swallowed every drop of my cum with a humming grin.
Thursday, in her continued enthusiasm for “having your pipe at the back of my throat, your balls on my chin,” she sat under the table during dinner, and blew me with wild vigor; daring me to finish my meal before she finished me off. No one looses in these sorts of contests.
In bed she sat on my face, and howled like a goddamned banshee. I swear the windows were vibrating!Her ass was on my chin, so I could look up the valley of her magnificent body as I tasted her innermost moistness. I stroked myself the whole time, and – to my own surprise – came twice in the exercise. Mom licked me clean like she had Tuesday night, and we slept soundly together the same way as well.
But she wouldn't tell me what the surprise “experiment” was going to be. That – she insisted – would begin Friday night. Begin on Friday night!?
Friday morning she was having none of my monkey business at the bathtub, and warned me that I shouldn't expect any when I got home from classes. “Save your strength for tonight, baby. ” was her only advice; her only warning.
End of Part 2
Next is Part 3
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