Menü
Part 2 of 3
Over the next several days I put my newly learned technique to good use, whacking off every opportunity I got. I could almost feel my mom's hand guiding mine. I went back to her underwear drawer many times to ogle her naked pictures as I masturbated. I tried to leave everything just as I had found it so she wouldn't know, but looking back, she had to have known I wouldn't be able to resist. Besides, if she really didn't want me looking at them, she would have found another hiding place, right? But at the time, all I knew was it was forbidden, and all the more exciting for it.
Mom never mentioned anything about that night. We went about our normal routine as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Then the next Friday, Mom told me she was going out. My stomach did a flip-flop, remembering what she had said that night: "Next time. . . "
I was sitting on the couch watching TV while she got ready. When she came out, my eyes almost popped out of my head. She was wearing the shortest black mini skirt I had ever seen, knee-high white go-go boots, and a tiny black jacket left open to reveal nothing underneath except a white halter top. Her face was heavily made-up with very dark eyes and pale pink lipstick, and her long black hair was poofed up high the way women did back then.
"Come give Mama kiss," she said distractedly as she dug in her white purse for her car keys.
"Love you, too," I answered, and then she was gone.
I spent the evening antsy as hell, trying to watch TV or anything to keep from thinking about Mom or her naked pictures. I was determined to wait for her to get home before I masturbated. I had thought of little else over the last several days and had devised a bit of a plan: I would let her catch me again in hopes of recreating what had happened.
Much, much later, I was watching out the front window when her car pulled into the driveway. I was up in a shot and sprinting for my bedroom, already naked with my steel-hard dick in my hand. Minutes passed as I faintly heard her enter and then mix herself a drink. Finally, I heard her coming down the hall.
"Are you still. . .
"I'm sorry, dear," Mom slurred, obviously drunk again, but as I had hoped, she did not immediately leave the room.
"That's okay, Mom," I replied. There was an awkward pause as she stood there, still dressed in her sexy outfit with her drink in her hand, swaying slightly. I noticed that her gaze kept going back to my barely concealed hardon. To break the silence, I said, "You said is was okay for me to do this. I've been doing it like you showed me. "
She smiled. "That's good, honey. No more sores on your. . .
"Yeah," I agreed. "But. . . "
"But what, honey?"
"Um. . . You said you would show me an even better way. . . "
"The way your father liked it.
I could barely contain my excitement. I had goose bumps all over and felt like my hair was standing on end. And my dick was like blue twisted steel. When Mom came back in, she was carrying her drink in one hand, a bottle of lotion in the other, and a box of kleenex in the crook of her arm. She put everything down on the bedside table,.
"Shit!" she cursed as she drunkenly fumbled the lotion and it hit the floor. She almost never cursed, unless she was drunk or really mad. I shivered with anticipation as she sat heavily beside me on the bed and bent down to retrieve the bottle. When she came back up, she said, "Hold out your right hand. "
I did as instructed. She opened the lotion and squeezed a generous glob of it into my upturned palm.
"Rub that on your thing," she told me as she closed the lotion and set it back on the table. She picked up her drink and knocked back a healthy slug, watching out of the corner of her eye as I smeared the cool, slippery cream on my aching prick.
"Stroke it," she commanded. "Feels pretty good?"
"Yeah," I grunted.
"Now, here's your dad's trick. . . "
She actually reached out and grasped the base of my cock, holding it between her thumb on one side and two fingers on the other. She squeezed it firmly and pushed straight down, pulling the skin really tight over my throbbing bone. The head bulged even bigger, the ridge standing out starkly.
"Now try it. . . "
I groaned as I did what she said. It felt incredible.
"Better, huh?" I could only moan in reply. "I used to do this for your father," she said. "'Course I was the one with the lotion and he was the one holding it.
She sipped at her drink, smiling slightly as she held my cock, her hand actually resting on my balls while I jacked off. Her eyes were glued to my dick. It was all too much. I came in less than a minute. She continued to hold onto my spasming dick until I had groaningly milked it dry and I collapsed back huge sigh of satisfaction. Finally she let go and reached for some kleenex.
"How was that?" she asked as she began mopping the cum up off my belly.
"God, that was great," I moaned.
"That's what he always said," she giggled as she finished her cleaning. She laid the soiled tissues on the bedside table and downed the rest of her drink.
"Oh, honey," she said through a big yawn. "Help me off with my boots, would you?"
"Sure, Mom. " I scrambled up naked and grabbed hold of the boot she lifted up for me. She fell onto her back with a laugh when I yanked a little too violently, then lifted the other foot. I had a perfect view up her tiny skirt as I tugged that one off more slowly. She had on pantyhose but no panties. I could see her dark muff through the material, but her crotch was hidden by the cotton panel. She struggled out of her jacket and handed it up to me.
"Do you mind if I rest here for a while? I'm too tired to make it to my bed. "
"No, I don't mind," I answered excitedly as she scooted her way up onto the pillows. She held her arms out invitingly and I slid in next to her. "Turn out the light," she mumbled, then snuggled up close with her arms around me.
When I woke the next morning, she was gone. So were her boots and jacket, and the semen stained tissues. But she had left the lotion and box of kleenex, giving me tacit permission for future use. After I dressed I found her asleep in her own bed. She slept late and had a hangover when she did get up. Once again, nothing was said about the events of the night before. That night she went out again; the first time she had gone out two nights in a row.
I waited up again, hoping for more of the same, naked on my bed when I heard her come in. But this time, she wasn't alone. I heard soft voices. One of them definitely belonged to a man. I heard Mom giggling. I pulled the covers up over my naked body as I heard them coming closer. I heard Mom shushing whoever it was and a whispered exchange, before she popped her head into my room.
"Everything okay, honey?" I could immediately tell she was plastered again. I nodded, wondering what was going on, but all she said was, "Okay, 'night, dear. Love you. " Then she was gone and I heard her bedroom door shut.
I lay there, dejected, but not fully admitting what I already knew, until a while later when I started hearing a rhythmic thumping coming through the wall, and the faint squeak of the bedsprings. My heart fell into my stomach.
Mom was getting fucked.
I was at once completely crushed and more turned on than I had ever been, hotter even than the spread-legged picture had made me, if that was possible. My heart was hammering and my face felt so hot it might burst into flames. I turned off my lamp and got out of bed, tiptoed naked out into the hallway and up to Mom's door. The sounds of frenzied sex grew louder the closer I got.
Putting my ear close to the door, I could clearly hear the animals grunts coming out of my mother over the raucous screeching of the tortured bedsprings. I grabbed my rock-hard dick and began beating off furiously, just in time to hear Mom whine, "Don't stop! I'm cumming! Ooooooh God I'm cumming!"
A minute later I heard the anonymous guy growl something unintelligible, and Mom cried out, "Don't cum in me!"
Then the man said clearly, "Where you want it, baby, in your mouth or on your tits?"
"On my tits! Cum on my tits!"
I felt faint as I came at the same time I heard a scramble on the bed and the bastard groan loudly, apparently delivering his load onto my mom's little titties. I had never even heard of cumming on tits, but picturing this guy squirting his shit across Mom's puffy red nipples made me swoon. I had to lean against the door frame to keep from falling down.
As it grew quiet in the room, I crept back to my own bed, exhausted, both physically and emotionally. It wasn't long before I heard the guy leaving. I lay there a long time, unable to sleep, reliving what I had heard with the picture of fresh-fucked Mom in my head. Finally, I jerked off again, using the lotion she had left for me. After that I finally fell asleep.
Mom was in a great mood the next day, despite her hangover. But I sure as hell wasn't. I refused to even look at her, only shooting her sullen glances and answering her in monosyllabic grunts when she tried to engage me. I was pissed off and I wanted her to know it. What do you expect? I was 18 years old and jealous of some random dude fucking my mom. Looking back, I can see now that helping me jerk-off got her horny and that's why she picked up a one-night stand. But at the time all I knew was I was mad at her.
Well, thanks to my pissy attitude, Mom was drinking again by late afternoon. By the time I went to bed, she was hammered for the third night in a row. I had been in bed awhile, laying awake in the dark, when the hall light came on.
She was wearing her nightgown, and with the light behind her I could see right through it to the silhouette of her naked form. I perked up but said nothing. After a long, silent minute, she came on in and crawled into bed with me. She didn't say anything, just snuggled up against my side. I wanted to stay mad, give her the cold shoulder, but her nearness was intoxicating. My cock grew hard under the covers. After a few moments, I reached for the lotion bottle. I had the vague notion of completely ignoring her presence and jerking off, like somehow that would punish her. But that went right out the window when she held out her hand, palm up.
Taken aback, I tried to hand her the bottle, but she wouldn't take it. She again held her hand out insistently, and finally it dawned on me. Curious, I flipped open the top and, after a brief hesitation to make sure that's what she was wanting, squeezed some out into her cupped palm. All my anger was quickly replaced by excitement as I started to realize where this was going. I dropped the bottle and quickly kicked off the covers.
Mom reached down and slathered the cool lotion across the bulging head of my cock, then over and down the shaft in a circular motion. I groaned when her slender fingers wrapped around it, spreading the slippery stuff evenly over the entire thing. Then her fist closed snugly around my dick and she began moving it up and down in long, slow strokes.
I was in absolute heaven as Mom slowly and lovingly jacked me off. I was acutely aware of her naked form pressed to mine, separated only by the wispy-thin material of her nightgown. One of her small, soft titties was laying atop my upper arm, one of her bare legs thrown over mine as she snuggled even closer. I could feel her hot, boozy breath against my neck. My entire body was as rigid as my cock as she kept to the same deliberate, steady stroke, never speeding up as I did when I did myself. Consequently, it lasted for what seemed an agonizingly blissful eternity. Mom knew exactly what she was doing.
She only stopped once, holding her palm out for more lotion, which I scrambled desperately to find, and squirted across her hand and up her wrist due to my haste and shaking hand. She took it all in stride, calmly wiping it all onto my straining, throbbing bone, then right back to the same slow, smooth stroking grip.
When I finally stopped cumming, Mom kept her hold but quit stroking. It took a long while, but eventually it softened in her hand. It wasn't until I heard a soft snore from her that I realized she had gone to sleep holding on to my dick. She hadn't spoken a word to me, but I definitely accepted her apology as I too drifted off to a contented sleep. .
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