Mother & Son Love

In the early seventies, I was taking some time off from school. I was a member of the counterculture, 22, and was living near my divorced mom’s house in the San Fernando Valley. I was then about six feet tall, and weighed about 190. A friend had taken off to the East Coast, and had left me with some exceptionally powerful marijuana. My girlfriend too had left me, and I was feeling down, so I would go over to my mom’s quite a

lot.

My mom was still at 42 very attractive. She was about 5’5″ dark haired, and thin with big boobs. She probably weighed about 120. She had tried to get things going with a couple of boyfriends, but things hadn’t panned out. My dad had moved away. She and I would sit out on the patio in front of her pool, and complain about how shitty things had turned since the Vietnam war started

and so on.

She’d have a couple of drinks. I’d smoke a joint. Over those few months, I discovered how lonely she was. She’d been a successful young editor at a magazine, and quit it all to marry my father, an engineer. Our conversations covered everything politics, drugs, even sex. “You know, I never could come with your father,” she said. “I always had to masturbate.” I was pretty non- committal during these ramblings she got into. I found myself simultaneously embarrassed, and very, very turned on.

At home, I’d fantasize about how great it’d be to fuck her. I’d gotten lots of experience with the two or three long-term hippy girlfriends I’d had. We’d done everything, and for long periods too.  The fact that there was such great grass around only helped. Everyone of my age group was generally great in bed—the grass taught us to screw slowly and in depth. Nothing was foreign to us, sixty-nine, you name it.

I had the impression that my mother was sexually kind of naive, and I knew that I could give her a great time in bed if only I had a chance. One day, as we settled into our deck chairs at the back of the house, I had a wild idea. “How about you try some of this?” I said. “I don’t know—it’s still a drug to me,” she said. She never complained about my smoking it, a sign of her liberalism, but she had never asked for any.

“Nonsense,” I said. This stuff is extremely mild. Nothing, in fact, could have been further from the truth. “Come on, I’ll show you,” I said. My mom always wanted to be perceived as liberal, so she went ahead and took. It took a few minutes to get her to hold it in her lungs, but after a while, she was able to. We both fell silent then. She and I were both dressed in summer-wear. She had a T-shirt with a bra underneath, and shorts with I presumed panties on under those. I had a pair of swim trunks on only.

I moved my deck chair next to my mom’s. This was truly psychotic grass, where you can’t think or speak, but everything sensory seems to be underlined. I put my hand on her shoulders and began to stroke her lightly over the top of her back.”Leaves fire trails…” she said slowly, referring no doubt to the sensation. I continued this for a while, and then shifted to the tops of her arms. She seemed to shift her weight toward me to give me greater access. I was so stoned, that the last thing I could have done was rush, but finally I shifted my weight to nuzzle her

neck (which she seemed to lean into, giving the slightest hint of a moan.

With trepidation, I shifted my fingertips delicately to my mother’s breasts. She shuddered, but did not move away. My fingertips gently cupped these full and still perky objects, occasionally trailing over her nipples. I bent to kiss her, my tongue entering immediately. She returned my kisses languidly, tongue playing against mine. Still kissing, noting that her substantial nipples had become rock hard, I lifted her top over her head, interrupting the kiss only to get the t-shirt by.

I languidly reached for her bra fastener in front and liberated her beautiful breasts. She softly moaned now. I bent to her breasts and slowly licked each nipple in endless circles, while my hands caressed her arms and sides. Too stoned to be afraid she would stop me, I knelt beside her deck chair, and lifted my mother’s little butt up slightly and skinned down her pants and panties as a unit. Here was my mother naked, on a hot sunny day, and I was going to be fucking her in a few minutes.

But first, hippie sex! Something I was sure she had no experience with. Her eyes were shut, but she seemed totally relaxed. I stood and removed all my clothes slowly, then knelt in front of her chair. My hands found her feet, and slowly gave her a deep foot massage that went on for a minute or two, then they began to work their way slowly up her legs.

She said, through slack lips, “Feels so good…” I marveled at the beauty of her still-tight belly, only slightly pooch from delivering us kids, and enjoyed the hairy puffed out cunt I hadn’t seen since before puberty when we all ran around naked in the house. My mouth found her cunt, and she started slightly, but settled right away. I got her legs a fair distance apart, and began to slowly lick her clitoris, which turned out to be quite large and erect, in a slow circle. She started actually gasping, and slowly raised a hand to cup behind my head, to prevent it moving away, as though

I had any intention of moving it. This went on for minutes, my slow licking of my mother’s clit never varying. By this time my cock had swollen to enormous proportions. I know that many believe that we have a given cock size, but I am sure that the degree of excitement has something to do with size. My normally seven inch cock was at least an inch longer, and half an inch wider than normal. A large bubble of pre-come had collected at the tip. I continued to lick and lick.

By now her hand was lightly grabbing my hair. In addition, my mother was lubricating obscenely, and wetness was actually coming out onto my tongue when I occasionally scooped it down to enter her vagina. The salty taste was wonderful and sweet. After minutes, I rose to my feet, and helped her sit up, her eyes still closed. Tilting her head to one side, and lowering myself slightly, I brought the tip of my monstrously swollen penis to her lips. I was curious to see what she would do with it.

Surprisingly, she began to lick the head in a circle, and after a while began to dip down with increasingly deep strokes to the base. She continued to moan during this, and squatting slightly, I managed to get my finger to her still wet clit to continue the circular action. I never would have believed that my Mom could give such a wonderful slow blow-job, including pretty much a deep throat. On the grass, it felt unbelievably good, and shimmering waves of pleasure coursed through my whole body.

It was fortunate that I had trouble coming from this technique, because I would have blown a gallon of come into her throat. The fact that my mother was sucking my cock added to the incredible feeling of eroticism. After eight or ten minutes of this, I pulled myself reluctantly from her mouth, and helped her to her feet. I wasn’t going to fuck her in a deck chair. Her eyes remained closed to slits as I led her slowly to the bed in the guest room on the first floor. I positioned her on it on her back, and slowly knelt between her legs.

I knelt erect for a few seconds so she could see how huge my penis was, and then I put my head between her legs and ate her by lapping the flat of my tongue over her inner lips and clit over and over for a minute or two. I then entered her by putting the head of my cock to her opening and gently pushing until I was completely unsheathed. I then began to slowly, slowly fuck and fuck my mother, each stroke retracting all the way to the tip of my penis.

She was idiotically lubricated, but at the same time quite tight, and her vagina had long since achieved pre-orgasmic clampdown. Using the slow, slow approach in the missionary position, I fucked her for about an hour, while she gasped and moaned. Her legs alternately splayed out to the sides, cupped my ass, or pointed to the top of the opposite wall. At one point one foot gently paced my rump, while the other pointed out to the side.

The pleasure was absolutely incredible, but I was careful not to come. Instead I wanted her to. The grass was so good I thought she might have a problem in this position. So after an hour I changed. I pulled out, and dropped to eat her clit for a minute or two, making sure that her cunt was as moist as possible. I needn’t have worried; her lubrication had generously moistened

everything.

I then positioned myself on one side and hoisted her legs over my pelvis in the T position. I entered my mother gently and began to fuck her using the same long strokes as before as her body laid over me. I used my left hand to gently masturbate her clitoris in a circle, and used the right to brush her breasts and stomach.

It wasn’t long before I felt her cunt absolutely chewing my cock in pre-orgasmic spasms. When my mother came, she screamed and screamed, while I continued to slow fuck and masturbate her. This went on for three or four minutes, and I could feel her vagina grab, release—grab release. Finally, at long last, she pushed my hand away, the sensations being I guess a little too strong following her come. I continued to slowly fuck her.

“I want you to come in me,” she whispered. I got back to the missionary position (actually one of my favorites). Now I fucked to my orgasm, a little more rapid and using a few more short strokes, although there were plenty of long deep ones too. It wasn’t long before I had the most incredible orgasm of my life with pulse after pulse of heavy semen shot into my mother’s vagina. We slept. The next morning, as she made me breakfast, now primly clothed, she said, “I think we’ll chalk that one up to the grass. I don’t want it to happen again.”Sadly, it hasn’t.