REALITY ROAD IS LONG AND HARD

I didn't want to know what was bothering me. It had been going on for so long, I thought that was just the way things were supposed to be. Why did she set me off? Why did she make me angry when she tried to be sweet to me? How could a son be so hateful to his mother?

I had trouble getting along with her even before my father had died when I was twelve. I even called her Mary for a while because I didn't want to call her "Mom." Everything changed after I woke up to what was going on in my own head. I was looking at a picture of a beautiful full-breasted woman on the Internet when I broke out in a sweat. She looked like my Mary, my mom, and I wanted her. I wanted to do everything imaginable to her - I wasn't thinking about the woman in the picture. It was so obvious but I had never let myself think the thought. I wanted my mother. It didn't feel horrible; it felt exciting. I got so turned on that as soon as I touched myself I had an explosive and exhausting orgasm.

Today I recognize that the difference between conscious and unconscious feelings is an illusion. I was still feeling the desire for her even if I wasn't aware of it. It was affecting me physically and mentally but I just wasn't ready to tell myself the words – "I want you mom."

When I did focus my awareness on how I felt about my mother, the floodgates opened. I thought about her all the time and our relationship mellowed. She didn't make me angry any more. She could kiss me and I didn't recoil. In fact she couldn't kiss enough to suit me.

Thoughts of her put me to sleep at night. Of course they were adolescent fantasies like many of the stories of incest I had begun reading on the net. She came to me in the middle of night and took me in her mouth; she gave me her body for my birthday, she saw me naked and couldn't resist sleeping with me. I don't think that stuff really happens much. Well, it didn't happen to me.

It took months for mom and me to even get back to a conventional mother-son relationship. It was slow, painfully so. It took years before we got to an unconventional one.

I would say the genesis of anything beyond fantasy involved the Mother's Day present I gave her when I was eighteen and she was thirty-seven. I agonized for a month considering what her reaction would be. I just couldn't decide if I was doing the right thing or stupidly embarrassing myself. I had seen the outfit in a Victoria's Secret kind of store. The model in the picture had dark hair and an ample body like mom. The bra, panties, and garter belt, were a combination of filmy white nylon and lace, to cover without covering. The stockings were white with sheer vertical lines going thigh to ankle. The dressing gown was opened but it wouldn't have prevented you from seeing the undergarments even if it had been buttoned.

I often imagined how my mother would look in it; I was embarrassed in the store, but I had to buy it. When I gave it to her, my heart was pounding. Her eyes opened in surprise and she gave a little laugh. At least she didn't hate it, or me for giving it to her. She said, "Oh honey it's lovely. It must have cost you a fortune."

"You're worth it mom; do you really like it?" I said.

"Of course dear," she said. She stopped for a moment and asked, "What made you get me such a sexy outfit?"

I fumbled, "I don't know; I just saw it and thought you would look nice in it."

She laughed a bit and said, "It's a bit daring," and then she added as an afterthought, "Too bad I don't have anyone to wear it for right now; oh well, maybe someday." She had only been out on a few sporadic dates and some of the relationships had turned to friendships but none had developed into romances.

Maybe you're thinking that this is where I say, "We'll, you can wear it for me mom." That's exactly what I thought, but I didn't say it. What I did say was, "You'll find someone mom, and they'll be lucky to get you."

She wasn't used to that kind of remark coming from; I was almost surprised to hear it come out of my mouth. She didn't say anything because it looked like she was a bit choked up. She kissed my cheek. She went and put the lingerie in her drawer.

I saw the sheer nylon on her in my fantasy that night, and then I saw her take off her bra and panties so the curves of her body were silhouetted in soft light. Her nipples were evidently large under the gauzy fabric; the darker patch between her legs invited me.

In my imaginings she's shy and reluctant and I say to her, "I know you don't think that I should touch you this way mom, but I love you." I reach under the nylon to take her bare breast in my hand and she sighs, allowing me. And then I touch her in all the places, and then I love her in all the ways I had come to imagine, until I fall asleep, alone.

It was deep into summer and we had spent almost every day of mom's two-week vacation together at the beach, the movies, and at the evening dances at the band shell that was just a few blocks from home. The heat had built up outside and inside of me. By then, I considered my desires as the unfulfillable, nonsensical ravings, of a hormonally charged lunatic.

Lying next to her on the beach didn't help. Yes, I put lotion on her back and no, I didn't rub it on the cleavage that drove me crazy, or the long legs that led to the pussy I wanted to be in. And nothing could keep me from fantasizing as I held her when we danced.

My hand rested as low as it could on the small of her back without actually being on her ass. I inhaled her hair when she rested her head on me during the slow numbers. And how unselfconscious she was when I moved, as her breasts tortured my chest. I tried not to let her feel the swelling in my pants as my thoughts ran away from me to the place where my mother is on the bed and her legs are open and she wants me…she needs me…she begs me…

That night, as I fantasized and stroked myself, I thought of actually going into her room and attempting to seduce her. The small rational part of me that remained, realized that I had no idea how to go about it, and no reason to think that my mother would be in any way receptive to it.

I became agitated thinking that nothing would ever happen and my thoughts turned ugly. I fantasized about forcing her. Even though it's not in my nature and the idea in reality was abhorrent to me, it still turned me on. In the scene I conjured up, I tied her to the bed before she can stop me. As I begin touching her all over, she begs me not to do it. "Please Robert, please…you can't do this to your own mother."

I bring my cock to her lips and say, "Yes I can Mary, now suck it before I make you sorry." Even in the fantasy I couldn't bring myself to hurt her. She opens her mouth and sucks my cock. I lick her pussy and she likes it so much she says, "Oh Robby, untie me, it feels so good, I'll do whatever you want." After I came I thought I had been reading too many nonsensical incest stories because even my fantasies were hard to believe.

It was a few weeks later when the line between fantasy and reality became less clear. Nothing was certain after the night the lights went out. We had just come home from dancing. It wasn't that unusual an event. Where we lived, during summer thunderstorms, the lights often went out. Usually within a couple of hours, they were back on. That evening it took longer. We sat on the rug watching the lightening illuminate the trees while we waited. Mom seemed a little nervous and made a drink. She made me one even though I hardly ever had more than a beer or two. She finished her second as we talked in the dark. The A/C was off and she opened enough buttons for me to see the creamy flesh that crested over her bra.

"What do you want out of life Robby? Tell me honestly…is there anything you're willing to work for?"

I figured we were back to our old arguments of years past. Mom's smart. She reads all the time. She understands music and art and literature. I was never much interested in school. I did enough to get by. She was always hounding me to study and learn. I refused to go to the museums and libraries with her no matter how much she begged or cajoled. It was only because we were getting along that I said I would consider going to college in the fall.

"Yes," I said. I'm willing to work for it, but no matter how much I work, I'm not going to get what I want."

"Of course you will." She was getting excited. "All you have to do is apply yourself. I believe in you baby, I'll help you. You're going to love school and you'll do great. Tell me what you want to do."

I said it. "It's not only what I want to do, it's who I want to do it with...mom." I put my hand on her arm and stroked down to her hand.

I said that my mother was smart. She saw the way I was looking at her unblinking eyes. I didn't have the say the rest because she knew. "Oh honey…how do we even talk about this…look Robby…I know that you get excited sometimes with me when we're dancing and I guess I didn't do much to discourage you because…well, I'm probably flattered. You're a handsome young man, you're my son, and you still find me attractive; I'll admit that it makes me feel some things I haven't felt in a while. I wanted to talk to you about it, but I guess I was a little uncomfortable." Even without the lights I could tell she was flushed and damp.

"But listen baby, these aren't unusual feelings, we've been spending a lot of time together and it's a time of confusion in a boy's life…"

"Mom, I'm not confused." I looked at her directly. "Right now all I want to do is kiss you. I've loved you this way for a long time…you're so beautiful. Mom." I leaned to her and my lips touched hers. She didn't pull away.

After the short kiss she smiled and said, "Are you trying to take advantage of your drunk mother?" We both knew she was anything but drunk.

"Yes mom, I am." The kiss was longer this time as my hand went to her neck and gently slid down until it rested over the mound I had fantasized touching for years. I could feel her deep inhale through her nose as her breast rose deeper into my hand.

After the kiss she said, "Baby, this can't go where you want it to go, or even where I might want it to go. Tonight I'm feeling a little crazy, but there are just too many reasons why it can't happen."

"Mom, why does it matter? If we both want it and were both adults, who cares what other people say or think?"

"No baby, you're not understanding. You're right about that part of it; I don't think it's wrong because of what people think. If two people love each other, what happens between them is nobody's business if no one gets hurt. But there's more to it than that. They have to be right for each other."

"Look mom if we both want to…you always tell me I'm handsome…God mom, I want you so much…I want you to be my first…"

"That's part of the problem baby…you're only thinking about sex, and it's understandable, but at this time in my life, I need someone who wants me to be their last, not their first. Look, I know what you're feeling…you want this…right now you think you want me. Well you would be wrong if you thought I don't have desires as much as you do. You have to understand though, for me, sex isn't enough. I need someone to be with before we have sex, and after we have sex. Someone to talk to, and share the things I love with, and…sweetheart, sleeping together isn't going to make everything right for me."

It hurt that I couldn't be the man she wanted. Finally I said, "Mom, I only know that I want you so much and I would do anything… it's driving me nuts…I'll go to school…I'll…"

She sort of laughed at my transparent attempt at 'blackmail.' "Honey, you're going to have to do what's best for you, and not because of something you think you want from me."

"So you're never going to let me love you?" I was crestfallen. "Could you just kiss me once…for real?"

She was kind and said, "Sweetheart, I don't know what tomorrow brings, and maybe 'never' sometimes does come…" She looked at me wistfully and said, "Okay sweet boy, come kiss your momma." I kissed her and she kissed me back, long, gently, and she allowed the hand that softly caressed over her bra. After a few minutes she pulled back and looked me squarely at me, focusing my attention. "Listen, this is once…tonight…it's probably all my own fault, but I do want you to get over this thing about me…and don't push it, okay?"

I wasn't sure where it was going but I said, "Okay."

She reached back and unhooked her bra. I was almost tongue-tied. She sat with a sweet smile, exposed, yet unashamed in front of her son. Her breasts had the heaviness that maturity brings, but still shapely enough for a twenty year old girl to be proud of. "God mom, they're so…so beautiful." I almost added something about how big they were but thought better of it. She laughed as I ogled them open-mouthed and then instinctively bent my head to suckle the thick rubbery nipple. I had always wondered why the points of her nipples were evident in most of the clothes she wore. I could then see that naturally, her nipple was thick even when not in a state of arousal. In my mouth it hardened even more.

My mother made a sound of pleasure as my tongue circled the large areola and then played with the tip. I sucked harder when she held her breast as if she was feeding it to me. I sucked until she brought my head back up so that we could resume kissing. She put her hand on my burgeoning cock and massaged. I took my mother's tit in hand and mimicked her motions. Her flesh was hot. Touching her and kissing her made me want to be inside her as much as I've wanted anything in my life.

I went to unzip my pants and she stopped me. I tried to unhook her skirt and she stopped me. It wasn't going to happen. What did happen did bring me some relief. My mother placed my hand under her skirt and let me touch her pussy. She directed my fingers to her hood and showed me with her fingers over mine how to stimulate the clit that swelled under it. She rubbed me; I rubbed her, and we kissed. I came first. I stayed on her mouth and my sounds of "Mmm…mmm…mmm…" got longer and louder until I had to stop the kiss as I squeezed my eyes shut and said, "Mom I'm coming…Ohhh…Ohhh…" I jerked with each release and fell on her neck in exhaustion.

A moment later I realized that my hand was still on her pussy and she had resumed directing my fingers. Her orgasm seemed even longer than mine and the sounds she made were like staccato whimpers of "Yes…yes…yes," until she was done. She kissed me and smiled and put her bra back on. I started to say something when the lights came back on. The moment was over.

The next morning when I awoke, mom was in the kitchen preparing breakfast and went up behind her and put myself against her and she turned and said, "Robby, I was serious, that was once, and you said you wouldn't push." I nodded my head sheepishly in assent. "Okay," she said, "Now give me a kiss and sit down to breakfast."

We ate and talked about everything except what I wanted to talk about and then she said, "Robby, I know we've been through this but I want you to do something for me. Right now it's the most important thing I can think of that I need from you. It's hard for me baby because I'm upset but I'm not going to keep saying it. I decided that this is the last time I'm ever going to bring it up."

I thought for sure it was going to be about what a mistake last night had been and how wrong, and on an on. What she said was, "I want you to go to school; I want that most of all. Will you do it baby? Will you do that for your momma?"

Two minutes before, after being rebuffed I would have said, "No," But the look on her face and the sound of her voice wouldn't let me refuse her. "Okay mom, I'll go."

"OH honey…" she brightened. "…and you'll try?"

"Yes mom, I'll try…I'll be the best little student they have."

She laughed and hugged me and gave me a sweet kiss on the lips. "Thank you honey; I love you." She was beaming.

I went to school and I tried. To my surprise, I liked learning. I wasn't bored like I was in high school. The teachers were exciting and challenging. The other students were a more diverse group than the people I knew at home, and they were friendly. And through it all, I was thinking about my mom.

We started e-mailing and I kept her up on what I doing. I called her "Sweet Girl" instead of 'mom' in my letters because I never knew who was looking over my shoulder while I was on the computer. She enjoyed it though and said she hadn't been called 'girl' in a long time. I really wanted to call her "My love."

I tried to keep it light and amusing and only told her once in awhile how much I missed her and how much I still wanted her. As the semester progressed, I told her that I now knew the difference between Phillip Roth and David Lee Roth and that in a film course I had seen that Jean Simmons didn't have as long a tongue as Gene Simmons. She said I made her laugh. We wrote short notes back and forth all the time.

Anytime I wasn't studying or hanging out, I was reading stories on the Net about mother's and sons. Even though I knew that most of them were far fetched I was still turned on by them because I could identify and fantasize so easily. There were two stories by an author named Emmah that I read over and over because the son in the first story was named Robby and the mother in the second one was named Mary.

It wasn't very graphic but this is the paragraph in the first story that got me going: "His first entry took my breath. His second took my heart. I felt I was giving him all my love and that could only feel good. He slid up into my tight channel and I became excited by the new sensations: the pressure, the heat, the trepidation and the anticipation of him coming in me there. I was transported and started to hear my moaning as if I was outside myself. Bobby's rhythm became steady and I joined, meeting his thrusts instinctively. I lost track of time as my head rolled and my arms began to shake. It seemed he slid in and out of me for a minute and an hour. He penetrated into me to the hilt. Nothing prepared me for the sensation of him touching the absolute depths of me. I gave myself up to it and to him. I heard myself scream as I came and I must have touched myself because I found one of my hands between my legs when the excruciating orgasm subsided. I was wet and dripping from his cum and we were entwined as he kissed me and told me "I love you" over and over and over again."

And the second story called Things Take Time had a part where the mother lets her son have anal sex with her, and that I could really not believe, but it excited the hell out of me anyway. Here's the part I read about ten times: "He shifted her to the edge of the bed and then with his feet on the floor he drove with his hips until half of his cock disappeared between the rounded globes. Another long moan from her was followed by the attempt to get it all in. He stroked back and forth and the constriction of her anal ring massaged the shaft. He drove the remaining inches into the hot passageway and she said, "Oh God…I'm on fire…oh…oh…" He was surprised that with each exclamation, she was pushing to meet his strokes. She grabbed his arms for balance and with each thrust he had complete penetration. She was taking it all in and he was climbing to the sky.

He took both of his mother's breasts in his hands as he drove into her again and again. The tight passageway tried to hold him firm as he fought to keep moving inside her. The friction heated both of their sexes. Each time he completed a stroke, he stayed buried inside her, moving in her as though there were something in her he was searching for. Each time he did it she let out a moan that ended with a little cry. And when he said, 'mother' and stroked her, she said 'yes' louder and louder." I thought that the chance of anything like that happening to me was somewhere between slim and none, but it didn't keep me from thinking about it, wanting it, and letting it feed my fantasies.At the end of the first semester I went home and told my mom that I had started dating a girl named Doreen who was originally from England. She was enthused and said she was happy for me. She wanted to know about her so I said, "She's pretty, but not as pretty as you, she's got nice boobs, but not as nice…"

She laughed, "I get the picture, you big tease."

I told her that Doreen seemed serious and that she wanted to go out more than I did and I asked mom what she thought I should do. She gave me the usual parental speech about testing the waters and going out with as many people as I could, to see whom I really liked etc. and then she said something that surprised me. She said, "But you're always going to love your old mom, aren't you?"

I said, "Of course mom, you're my sweet girl." We kissed, but nothing more.

Well mom wasn't my first, Doreen was. Although I did see other girls, for about six months I saw mostly Doreen. Actually, I saw all of Doreen, all the time. She liked sex and she seemed to like sex with me. That was encouraging. Most of my friends had had their 'first' in high school. I guess I was a late bloomer, but I made up for lost time with Doreen.

She liked oral sex as much as I did and I never got tired of her telling me that I had "Such a lovely cock" in her British accent. The first time she put it in her mouth, I wasn't prepared for the intensity of the feeling. I shot off almost immediately, and not knowing whether I should come in her mouth, I pulled out and the cum ended up everywhere but. She was good natured and laughed about it and we eventually got it all together. Most of the time, we sixty-nined. I would use my tongue as I had used my fingers on my mother and she knew how to tease, and lick, and suck, until I exploded in her mouth. I would be lying though if I said that when my eyes were closed, and I started to come, I never thought of my mother.

The first summer home was difficult, probably because it was so good. My experiences with Doreen left me sexed-up and confident. Mom looked as appealing as ever Mom but I stayed low-key because I sensed that it was the way she wanted it.

We had lot's more to talk about. I was interested in music and I had such a good professor. And it was interesting how little I really knew about things that seemed so familiar. Mom loved to hear about it. So I went on and on about Beethoven's Fifth and how everyone knows the first four notes, BAH BAH BAH BHAAM, but how if you listen closely, he takes that four note motif and then uses it as a three note, two note, and finally a one note motif.

Mom was impressed when I told her all about the symphonies we'd studied and the books I'd read. And the nice thing was that I wasn't just putting on an act; I really liked talking about those things with her. We even went to the museum when they had an exhibition of Andy Warhol and Roy Lichtenstein. We talked about how the Pop artists liked mass culture and at the same time could criticize it, like the 'more is better' soup cans or how Marilyn Monroe gets more grotesque in the screen-prints showing what celebrity did to her. And when we weren't talking, sometimes we kissed. Sometimes we touched and sometimes we didn't. She always stopped before it went too far.

The next school years were interesting for two reasons. I became involved in a business project and un-involved with Doreen. The business project was part of a program called "Upstart's Startups." It was actually a competition in the business school for students to get their own company off the ground. My roommate and I developed a program that collected information on new patents and the keyed it to the needs of existing companies and we wrote a weekly newsletter for three sectors of the economy.

We weren't Google, and we didn't re-invent the wheel, but by the end of the year we had 117 companies signed up for the newsletter. At $96.00 a year each, I no longer needed money from home for expenses, even though mom's job paid her well enough to afford it. It gave me a feeling of independence and we were planning to expand into the other sectors for the next year.

Doreen and I went our separate ways and I found out that what my mother said about testing the waters suited me. I had enough different girls to keep me happy. I took a Philosophy course and I found out what I was really doing in college. I wasn't learning 'what' to think, I was learning 'how' to think. By the time I went home for the third summer, I was changed.

I realized that even if I had desires and inclinations, I didn't have to be ruled by them. I couldn't help that first thought whether it was sane or insane, what I could do was use my reason to make a considered decision about what to do about it.

On a local site for writers, I came across some stories that had quite a few mildly suggestive references to incest between a student and his mother. I e-mailed the writer and confided that I shared his inclinations. We wrote back and forth for a while and it tuned out that the student went to the same school I did. We met up in the cafeteria between classes one day.

On first meeting Gary, I was surprised by his openness. I usually take time before getting comfortable with someone, but his easy manner got me talking and I told him how I felt about mom without saying anything had actually happened. He must have felt the same about me because by the end of our first conversation, he told me that he was having sexual relations with his mother. I guess my mouth was open when I said, "You actually slept with her?"

He laughed, "Yes, but we don't have to announce it to the whole cafeteria, do we?"

"How…I mean what did you do to get her to…?"

"Well Robert," he said, "I didn't have to 'get her' to do anything. My mother is, let's say, into sex, and a bit of an exhibitionist. It started even before she and my dad got divorced. I guess that was one of the main reasons they broke up. He was always after her for the clothes she wore and how she acted in front of other people. Not that I ever got used to it, but once I was old enough to notice, I almost had a perpetual hard-on because of the way she walked around the house."

"Gary, are you telling me that you…while your father was still living with you?"

"Not only while he was living with us, but the first time was while he was asleep in the other bedroom."

"I have to hear this." I said.

"Not now man because I have to go. Look, Sunday I'm going home for the day, to bring some things up; do you think you can help me? It's only fifty miles away; why don't you drive down with me and we can talk on the way."

It was only Wednesday and I didn't know four days could take that long to pass. I fantasized about what she might look like and what she might let me do. I didn't even know if she'd be there, but my flight of fancy soared.

On the road I got more of the details I craved. It seemed that his mother had been getting more provocative with him, to the point where she asked him to shop with her to get his opinion, and then made him join her a dressing room and watch her change clothes because she said it was easier than going in and out to show him.

"That was the day of the cab ride," Gary said. "She sat close on the way home and was thanking me for being with her. She kept asking how she looked in the clothes and were they sexy. She was sitting close and I could feel her tits pressing into my arm. She whispered in my ear and said, "I'm so happy you came. Your father wouldn't do this for me. There a lot of things he won't do for me, but you will baby, won't you?" Rob, at that point, I didn't know what to think. She started kissing my face and breathing hard and all the while she was also looking up at the cabdriver. She took my hand and put it on her tit. She whispered to me, 'Do you like the way your momma feels?' I tell you I was frozen. I didn't know what to do, but I didn't want to take my hand off her.

I could see that the driver was watching all this in the mirror and my mother seemed to be getting off on it. She bent down and started kissing my cock over my pants. I thought I would come right there. She came back and started making out with me. When we got to our house, as she was paying the guy, she had this turned-on smile on her face and asked him if he liked the show. He laughed and said, "Oh yeah."

Gary told me that in the middle of the night his mother came into his room and they had sex. I wanted to believe him, but it sounded like he was tripping on his own fantasy. All I could say when he finished his story was, "Wow."

His mother was home when we got there and she was nothing like my imagining of her. She was attractive with short blonde hair and a slim figure - more average than not, but with a megawatt smile that was very inviting. Watching her smile made me think that maybe Gary wasn't making it all up. He wasn't.

What he did make up was the part where he needed my help to move things. I was there for another reason. I was there to watch.

There was no 'announcement' or discussion; it just happened. We were having a beer and talking when his mother said, "I think Gary was right about you." She started kissing him and he kissed her back. They were on the couch and I watched from a chair, only feet from them. He began on her breasts and she rubbed his cock.

They undressed each other without a word to me. Gary never looked at me but his mother often did. When he put his finger in his mother's pussy, I laid my hand on my crotch. She smiled at me and closed her eyes as her son fingered her. Her body looked better out of her clothes but the situation would have made any body look a model's. My blood started to boil.

She started sucking her son's cock and I wanted some; I wanted more than some, but I knew I wasn't invited to participate, so I just did my job, watching a mother get fucked by her son. When he was inside her pussy, she looked at me again. I guess it was to make sure I was taking it all in, as she was. She didn't have to worry; I couldn't take my eyes off the scene.

It didn't take much for me to identify with the young man who was fucking his mother. He repeatedly drove deep into her and she received her son's cock with upward thrusts of her own. She was enjoying her son as he took her and when she looked over, I knew she was enjoying me as I watched her.

They shifted positions a few times and ended with her on her back. She opened her legs wide and he started his penetrations into his mother's pussy slowly, and deliberately. Gary seemed in control as he increased the pace; he ended up drilling into her belly harder and harder, until she began thrashing.

She came before he did, yelling, "Yes, fuck me…fuck me…" until she let out a long sigh of relief. He straddled her and I watched in amazement as she took her son's cock deep into her throat. The length of him disappeared into her mouth time and again. When he told her he was going to come, she kept the head in her mouth and stroked the shaft so fast and hard, her hand almost blurred. He came in his mother's mouth and she never stopped jerking him. I didn't see any evidence of his cum when she finished sucking him. They kissed and she disappeared into the bathroom with her clothes. When we left she gave me that smile, and a wink.

On the ride back to school, we actually didn't talk much about what happened. Gary said, "Thanks man." He told me what I had figured out already. He had told his mother about me and they figured I wouldn't be put off by a mother and son encounter. They were right. What I was - was primed for my own mother. I was at a point of no return; the next time I headed home, I had made all the decisions about all the possibilities.

The very first night home I took my mother to the band shell. During a slow dance, I held her close and spoke in her ear. "Mom, a few years ago you told me what you wanted for me and you were right. I'll love you forever for making me go to school because it's opened up a new world for me. But I'm also going to tell what I want for you. And like you told me, it's too hard to keep doing this, so I'm going to ask you once and then let it be. I love you now and it's not just about the sex. I want to be with you for every reason I can think of. Mom, I want you to be my last."

"Oh God Robby, I get more excited every time I see you. And when you started me thinking about us as…well, more, I've looked at you as a man, and I've come to love you as a wonderful man. I don't know if we can do this, or how we can do this, but right now, the only thing my heart wants to say is 'yes' baby, I want to be your last, yes, yes."

The three-block walk home seemed like three miles. Once inside the door she was in my arms and the kiss said, "I love you, I love you, I love you." The wanting was expressed with our hands that fumbled so much to get each other's clothes off that we had to laugh. We went into my mother's bedroom where I closed the blinds and she opened the lights. "I want to see you love, I want to see all of you," she said. Not more than I wanted to see her.

Mom said, "Let's slow it down baby."

I said, "Okay mom." That didn't work.

We kissed hard and hungrily; we were naked quickly. When she got on the bed, my mother did the most exciting thing I'd seen in my young life; she spread her legs for me. My mother was wordlessly saying what I'd hoped to hear since the first time she'd stimulated me, 'Come make love to me; come fuck me.'

I could see the lips of her pussy glistening. I was surprised at the reality of her pussy. In my imagination she had a full bush, but what I saw was trimmed enough to expose the soft pink lips. That my mother was wet for me was amazing, that she was opened and waiting for me to put my cock inside her was more than amazing.

I approached nervously, holding my stiff rod and positioning it at opening that would give me the greatest pleasure I'd known. In one long stroke I entered my mother's wet center and we were together. Her soft and humid opening had eased the way for the rigid pole my cock had become. We both sighed with the relief of our joining. My cock opened my mother's flesh to receive me. The pussy I had coveted was a welcoming velvet glove around my cock. I stroked as she moved to meet me with her hips. I filled her to the end of her channel. Our rhythm was hurried but synchronized. "Yes baby," she said. You're so good inside me…so right…what I've been waiting for."

I'd lost count of how long I had been waiting. But finally, being inside my mother's pussy made all the waiting disappear. My feelings for her were tender because I saw a mother who could open herself to her son despite society's conventions. She received the physical expression of my love between her legs and welcomed it with each of my penetrations. "Yes, darling Bobby…yes…" She affirmed each stroke that split her and entered the forbidden place she was allowing me to know.

We were joined in the moment, and forever could begin. She held me to her and we kissed as our bodies completed each other. I could feel every inch of me in every inch of her as the grasp of my mother's pussy caressed the width of her son's cock, her son's cock that filled her, and fucked her, and loved her.

With each stroke into my mother's pussy I felt closer to her. Deep in my mother's belly with her wetness all around me, I felt the love she was giving me; it was sexual and it was maternal at the same time. My mother was giving me herself. In that moment, deep inside her, I understood why I needed her love as much as her sex. It did something wonderful. It took the loneliness away.

Each long stroke into my mother's pussy was exquisite. She kept telling me how good it felt to have me inside her, "Yes, like that baby…so deep…don't stop love." The sound of her voice alone could have made me come.

Neither of us lasted long that first time. I'm not sure who first said to whom, "I'm coming." We both repeated it so many times it must have sounded strange bouncing off the walls, but I don't think either of us heard it. We were coming together, in love, in each other's arms, and in each other's heart.

I couldn't wait to ask her if it felt as good to her as it did to me. As I emptied my seed into her I said, "Does it feel good mom…do you like it?"

"Oh sweetheart…so lovely…so lovely…yes baby…mommy loves it." She kept telling me as she squeezed me hard against her body and kept me inside her as long as she could. I had come inside my mother and she was holding me, smiling, warm, loving.

The rest of the night was slower paced and we spent it exploring every part of each other's body. It began with long languorous kissing, building from the dreamy feel of each other's lips and mouth, to the playful dueling of our tongues. I touched her soft skin inch by inch, reveling, from the powdery softness of her inner thighs, to the firming tips of her nipples. I kissed it all and sucked tenderly at the lips of her mouth, and the lips of her vulnerable pussy. She smiled, and she sighed, and she was opened to me like a flower.

I tasted sweet juice as my tongue teased along my mother's soft pussy lips. There were fine droplets resting on her trimmed bush. I pressed the hood with the flat of my tongue and she reacted as I felt the nub under the skin and massaged it. She squirmed a bit and I rested my arms along her flank and my hands took hold of her big breasts. I continued eating her, sucking her, and anything else my mouth could do to her pussy. She rose toward orgasm and I felt the gentle vibration of her body's anticipation of coming. I stopped. "Don't stop." It came out of her as a thick breathy whisper. I stopped.

"Soon mom…you'll come soon," I promised her. I straddled her to put my cock into her mouth. My cock felt thick and hot in my hand. She willingly took me and sucked. She stroked as she did it and her eagerness was almost as stimulating as her lips and mouth that massaged along the length of my shaft. I began gently stroking in and out of her mouth and she slowed to allow me to dictate the pace. I wanted it to last. She raised herself slightly on her elbows and I realized that she did it to accommodate more of my cock into her throat. I was able to go deeper and she seemed relaxed despite the moans she emitted as she allowed me to enjoy her.

I looked in fascination and a sense of disbelief as I watched my mother sucking, me, taking me, and giving to me of herself, far beyond the sexual act. It was the sight of a mother taking care of her son and giving love beyond the fears we're taught never to see beyond. I wanted to do the same for her at that moment.

I went into the sixty-nine position as I had so many times with Doreen, but it was act of a different kind with my mother. As I took her pussy to my mouth, my desire to pleasure her was the most important thing. And the beautiful part was that as she sucked me, I knew that she was feeling that about me.

Our sounds became louder and faster simultaneously. I had to take my mouth off her pussy for a moment as I passed the point of holding back the first eruption. The powerful release fired into my mother's mouth. I kept coming but I went back to her clit and sucked and drew on it until I felt her arch, and sigh, and come. I felt her come and I tasted her come. And each time I had her that night, I felt her coming for me, and coming closer to me.

In one of the spaces between our lovemaking, we were side by side on our backs, resting in that lazy relaxation that's another reality, and mom reached over and began running her hand over my chest and said, "This is so crazy isn't it honey?"

"I guess it would be crazy to most people, but it didn't feel crazy a few minutes ago, did it mom?"

"No love…it felt good, and it felt like the best thing I'd ever done. Oh sweetheart, I want to give you everything, I want to make you happy.""You do mom, all you have to do is be here and be yourself, that's all I need."

"Yes baby, I'm here and you're all I need, and this." Her hand roamed to my cock, which came to life under her massaging. As it stiffened for her, she threw a leg over and straddled above the hardened pole she had created. She lowered herself with caution and said, "Oooh yes…that's good…that is so good."

As she raised and lowered herself I smiled up at her and said, "I have to tell you mom, you have great tits; I can't get enough of them." I took them in my hands and used my thumbs on her nipples.

She laughed and said, "Well there's certainly enough for you to get enough of. I'm glad you like them baby, but I always thought they were too big for my body. I once even thought about breast reduction."

"Oh no," I said. "Those two words should never be used in the same sentence, especially not about these beautiful things." I drew her down to me and took as much of one of her fleshy orbs into my mouth as I could and sucked it in. I worked each one and enjoyed the humming sighs she emitted. She began using my cock in earnest and angled herself from side to side to get different entries. I just enjoyed her efforts for a while before holding her ass and responding with thrusts of my own.

She leaned back and with her hands on my thighs, and she rode me. I watched the joy in her face as she did it and it felt amazing to be wanted that way. She moved to take me in as deep as she could and stayed, gyrating, and moaning. Watching her had kept me from getting lost in the sensations and when she put her fingers on her clit and started to come, I realized it wouldn't take much for me to come either. I tried not to buck and thrust to see what it would feel like if I just came as she moved on me.

It was an exquisite torture. The orgasm seemed to last even longer than the first as I let my mother's movements dictate my coming. Each release was intense and I probably grabbed at her tits too hard because I heard her squeal. I soothed them with a gentle massage as the last of the seed I released into her left me.

She rested on my chest and kissed me sporadically as she spoke. "I never thought it could be this good with anyone…and it's with you Robby…it's all so amazing to me. Are you always going to want me this way baby?"

"No mom, I'm going to want you more."

She kissed me long and said with a smile, and raised eyebrows, "You wouldn't believe that when I was a young girl my mother thought I should be a nun, would you?"

"NO," I smiled. But you did attain the position of Mother-Superior just now didn't you?" She let a burst of laughter and slapped my chest.

She relaxed and as I slipped from her she stayed beside me with one leg over mine. She told me stories of her childhood and said, "You know I had friends and I knew my parents loved me even if they had trouble showing it, but I always felt alone as a woman in the world. Except for the short time I was with your dad before he died, I thought I would never find a man to love again and that was the way it would always be. I had almost given up, and now…"

"Now you're never going to be alone again, and neither am I…now there's us."

We kissed and she suddenly said, "Oooh, stay here and close your eyes and don't open them until I tell you."

"What…?"

"Just do it, okay?"

I did it and when she came back and told me to open my eyes, she stood before me in the white lingerie I had bought her for that Mother's Day years before. "Now I have someone to wear this for…for my baby…for my man."

She looked gorgeous and I was stimulated immediately just looking at her. She removed the sheer covering and came back to bed and to her stiffened son. "I feel like a bride in this," she said.

"You look like a bride, and you are my bride…my beautiful new bride."

We kissed and fondled and she said, "I want to do something with you baby, maybe only once, but I want to." She took the panties off and got on all fours facing the back of the bed. "I want you to take me like this…" As she spread her knees and I saw the rosette of her ass, I wanted to be inside her.

She looked so good, so hot. The garter belt, and stockings, that came up high on her thighs, accentuated her rounded ass. It was something I had never done before, but when she said it, I wanted it as much as she did. My mother was inviting me to take her as most wives and lovers wouldn't, and I loved her for it.

She had brought lubricant with her and I hadn't noticed because the sight of her had totally taken my attention. I watched her put some on her pucker and she handed it to me and said, "Put some on love; I hope it's enough."

I massaged a layer of the jelly on me. It felt cool on my hot dick. I was stiff as steel when I approached her beautiful ass. I put the knob of my cock against my mother's small opening and pushed in. It was tight and she cried out. I stopped before pushing the length of my shaft into the hot tight channel and she said, "Do it love, I want this, I want you."

I thought of all the stories I had read, and all the fantasies I had dreamed up, and there I was with a reality that exceeded anything I could have imagined. My mother was before me, ready, and opened, taking my cock into her ass. I pushed in and out a few times without giving her all of it. "Oh…oh…oh…yes…yes…" The "Oh" sounded like 'stop' but the "Yes," sounded like 'don't stop.' I didn't.

After a few more tentative thrusts I saw that my mother was able to take it and I pressed in with more until my whole cock filled her ass and my balls rested against the rounded globes. I had never experienced such intense sexual stimulation, and by my mother's sounds, it seemed powerful for her too.

My mother had given herself to me in all the physical ways that she could. But I knew she had given me more than just her body. And through all the complexity, there was one simple statement for both of us. As I pushed into her deepest part and she pushed back to take me, I said, not as a question, but as a fact, "You love me don't you."

"Yes I do," she answered.

"And I love you," I said.

Then each stroke into her fire-hot ass squeezed on my cock like a tight fist. I drove between the fleshy cheeks and she reached back spreading herself to take all she could. Even though I sensed her pleasure, I knew she was taking me that way for my pleasure, and to give herself to me as a bride gives herself to her husband. She became my bride, and my lover, and my loving mother, as I pressed deeper and deeper into her ass.

I could hear her breathing getting faster and shallower. I could almost hear her heart pounding in her chest…or my heart pounding in my chest, I couldn't tell anymore. I felt the thrumming build-up grow, rising, coming…coming to that point where there is nothing on earth that can stop it. The first shot of cum powered into my mother's ass and I thought a lightening storm had erupted in my head. I kept coming, with cord after cord of hot cum firing deep into the tight channel. And as the thick lubricating semen made it easier for me to drive harder into her, I came more.

My mother also seemed wrapped in a seismic convulsion. She was shaking and crying out, "Yes baby, yes, in my ass…come in me…Oh Robbie, yes…my Robby…my Robby…" It seemed not to end; a minute is an hour when you come and it was longer than that. I looked at her face as she turned to me and she was flushed and drenched as her mouth opened to let out an orgasmic crescendo that was one long "Ahhhhh…"

The streams of creamy white releases I had filled her with became evident, as the small tight channel filled to overflowing. I continued pressing in to the last, and finally, I stayed buried deep in her flesh, as far as I could go, having given her as much as she could take. We were both out of breath as she collapsed on the bed with me on top of her. I kissed her back and neck and said, "That was amazing Mom, and you don't know how much I love you right now."

She said, "Yes I do; it's almost as much as I love you." She stated turning over and said, "Kiss me love."

I came out of her and we kissed as if we had just begun. I had loved my mother with all I had and she had opened and given me all of herself. I rested with her breasts, and belly, and thighs against me, and I thought then what I think now, that for us, there is no fantasy better than reality.