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Subject: {ASSM} Mother's Day (MF mother-son incest con rom)
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Date: Thu, 15 May 2003 03:10:02 -0400
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<1st attachment, "Mother's Day (MF mother-son incest con rom).txt" begin>
Hey, this is my story, so don't steal it! Repost elsewhere
if you want, but leave it intact (including the email address
at the end).
Enjoy!
Kisses, quivering_flesh@yahoo.com
________________________________________________________
"Mother's Day" (MF mother-son incest con rom)
Mrs. Katherine "Kitty" Morgan was just finishing up her
regular Sunday baking when she heard gravel crunch on the
drive. Her son's Chevy slipped into view through the kitchen
window overlooking the backyard. She watched him get a box
out of the car and come toward the back door.
Robert -- he would always be "Bobby" to her -- was
twenty-nine and a brand new father. He and his wife Julie
had just given Kitty her first grandchild. By all accounts
he was fully a man now, but Kitty couldn't help but see the
boyishness still clinging to him -- the light brown hair
that never obeyed a comb, the jaunty exuberant step, the
goofy smile always threatening to burst out on his face.
"Mom!" he called out as the pulled the backdoor open.
"It's me!"
Kitty tossed the dishtowel down and smiled at him as he
came through the door.
"Of course it's you. I heard you come up the drive."
"Just didn't want to surprise you -- in case you and
dad were -- you know."
"He's out getting some lumber for that porch you and he
been talking about for months. Won't be back for a couple of
hours I guess."
They gave each other a hug and he added a quick kiss on
the lips.
"What about the nursery? That takes priority." He
starting pulling clothes and towels and diapers and bottles
up out of the box. "I brought some things over for the
baby."
"I see you did. And it's all ready. Just leave that for
now. We'll take it up later. What about some coffee and a
piece of pie? Just baked."
He pushed the box aside and sat down. She poured two
cups of coffee, sliced two thick slices of pie and joined
him at the kitchen table.
There wasn't much that could beat watching your son
eating -- except maybe watching him sleeping -- thought
Kitty as Bobby dug into his pie.
"How's being a dad so far? No regrets?"
"Not in the first thirty days, no. I can't wait for her
to grow up though."
"And Liddy? She's doing OK?"
"Happy as a clam. You can't separate the two of them.
Damn, this is great pie, mom. Don't ever stop baking, hear?"
"Don't worry." She was silent for a minute. Something
was bothering him. A mother could tell, particularly one as
close to her son as she was. "But you two are getting back
'in the groove' so to speak, right?"
"Nah, not really. Mostly I've been taking care of
business myself. That'll change soon she says."
"She's not getting back in the mood?"
"It's not that. It's just with the baby taking all her
attention . . . Sometimes I think she gets her satisfaction
from the baby, nursing."
"There's your chance!"
"What do you mean?"
"Take it from me, when a woman nurses, it gets her all
wet and warm and excited." She chuckled. "Used to drive me
nuts."
"Yeah, so?"
"So, that's when you approach her!"
"What, when the baby's there?"
"Yes. What difference does that make? I bet she'd
really want to. Just go in and start playing with her.
She'll open right up."
"But won't the baby be in the way?"
"What, she nurses her between her legs?"
"Mom!"
"There are at least three good positions."
"OK, I'll bite. What are they?"
"First, classic missionary. Prop up her head and back
with a pillow. More comfortable for her to hold the baby
that way. When you're inside her, you can take the other tit
in your mouth. Both you and the baby sucking at the same
time. She'll come like she never before."
"You telling me that you and dad did this?"
"All the time. Why do you think I nursed you for so
long?"
Bobby shrugged. "The second position?"
"Sideways. Her on her side with the baby, you spooning
her. She can lift her leg to give you access if needed."
"Yeah, we do it that way -- used to do it that way --
so both of us can see the TV when we watched porn."
"And you can reach around and stroke the baby together
if you want. Other advantage is you're right at the backdoor
if she's still too sore from the birth."
"Uhm. And the third?"
"This is the one I enjoyed the most. Doggy style. A
little more awkward to hold the baby, and you can't reach
her or the baby easily, but she'll be wide open to you. Your
dad never got in deeper than when we did doggy -- both
openings fair game of course."
Bobby adjusted his crotch to relieve the tension in his
pants. His mom laughed.
"I gave you some ideas I see."
"OK. I'll try it. What about you and dad?"
"Things are fine."
"Come on, mom, I can tell something is up. He's not
sneaking out on you again is he?"
"No! That was years ago, Bobby. And don't forget I was
the first one to do the sneaking around. No, we've been
completely open about our 'outside' interests since then.
Solved a lot of problems. You and Liddy should do the same."
Bobby ignored this last comment. "Then there is
someone! Who is she this time?"
"He. A young man. Nineteen or twenty I think."
"Man! I didn't think dad was interested in men
anymore."
"Not men. Young guys."
"So he's been gone a lot? Giving you short shrift?"
"No, not really. He's got plenty to go around -- you
know he's not that old!"
"What, he's fifty-five! He's got to be slowing down by
now."
"I'm fifty-one. You see me slowing down?"
Her son smiled and gave her a meaningful look. "Never.
You're not worried he'd leave you for this kid, are you?"
"No -- that's not the problem."
"Out with it then! Don't keep me in suspense."
Kitty picked up the empty plates and loaded them into
the dishwasher. She wore a white cotton housedress, so sheer
that her figure was silhouetted in the sunlight that filled
the kitchen. Bobby watched her as she cleaned up, noting
with pleasure the lovely fullness of her rump as she bent
over the dishwasher and the subdued swing of her always
surprisingly youthful breasts as she straightened up again.
Was it just to him, looking at her with admiring eyes, eyes
that had delighted in her appearance since before he could
remember, that she still appeared beautiful, even at fifty-
one?
Kitty finally made up her mind and turned to look at
him, leaning back against the counter, arms folded in
defiance.
"I've been with him too."
"Mom! Does dad know?"
"I'm going to tell him. Just hasn't been a chance to
yet."
"What happened! And don't leave out any of the
details!"
"He was here one afternoon when I came home. Oh, I knew
he probably would be. Ralph had asked me if it was alright.
The boy still lives at home and I guess it's hard for the
two of them to find a place to do it."
"So, did you hear them?"
"Darling, I saw them!" Kitty said, smiling at the
remembered pleasure. "On purpose or not, they'd left the
bedroom door mostly open --"
"Not in your own bed!"
"No, we have a rule not do that unless we're both in
the bed together with whoever. Not that Ralph hasn't hinted
he'd like me to join them! They were in the guest bedroom. I
think that's what the open door was about actually."
"But you didn't? I mean, before then?"
"Not even then. I wanted to, in a way, but I thought
I'd give your dad some space with the boy first. Last time
we tried that the kid freaked out and left never to be seen
again."
"Yeah, but that was a girl. This is different."
"Maybe. But every time I walked past to go from the
kitchen to the living room, I'd pass their door. And then I
just stopped and watched. He is such a beautiful young boy
and the sun was shining and the birds singing outside --"
"Like today you mean?"
"Yeah, just like this," she said, looking out the
window. She fell silent, lost in the memory of the scene.
"So don't stop! What were they doing?"
"Your dad had been sucking him off, but when I stopped
to watch, he was on all down on all fours and the boy was
doing him from behind. He's got this wonderfully elegant
cock, longish and thin and he was working it slowly in and
out of your father, real sensuous like, not rough and fast,
but making sure Ralph felt every stroke."
"Wow," Bobby said in a hushed voice.
"They'd pulled the blanket off and there was just the
sheet under them, all white and clean in the sun. Ralph's
balls -- you know how they hang! -- were hanging down and he
was stroking himself. He knew he was getting a good one.
Then the boy pushed deep into him and held still. I could
almost see his body quiver as he came. Ralph let out little
moans as he felt the spurts inside of him -- probably deeper
than I'd ever been able to get."
Under the table Bobby had been squeezing his penis
through his pants as she told the story. Guys weren't his
thing really. He'd only been with maybe half a dozen and a
also a few young boys, at first only because his parent's
kept urging him to broaden his horizons, but then later on a
few times on his own initiative when someone happened for
whatever reason to turn him on.
"And so you had to have him yourself, right?" he said
in mock accusation.
"Bobby, if you'd seen him --"
"Don't worry, I didn't but you're beginning to make me
think I should."
"Well, get in line! You'll just have to wait until your
father and I are done with him!"
"Why? Dad and I have taken girls to bed together, why
not guys?"
"Do you want to hear the rest of the story or not?"
"My mouth is shut. Continue."
"Well, I didn't even know if he was into women. But
since Ralph had hinted I could join them, I figured I'd take
a chance. I knew he was a student over the university. I
made it a habit of going over there, hanging around until I
ran into him."
"He must have been suspicious."
"He knew. I could see it in his eyes right away. And I
could see too that he had the same thought I did. We walked
had some lunch and talked for awhile. Then without really
discussing it at all he took to one of the dorms."
"I thought he lived at home?"
"He does. This belonged to a friend of his, who was out
at class. He had a key."
"So you went and fucked in some college kid's dorm
room!"
"Yeah, with a college kid to boot!" Kitty laughed.
"God, he was great."
"What was the best part?"
Kitty smiled a wicked smile at her son. "His ass."
"Great butt?"
"His asshole."
"Mom!"
"He's smooth all over, even back there. And no hang-ups
at all, you know, just turned over for me like it was the
most natural thing."
"Well, isn't it?"
"We were there about an hour. Half of that was me
licking and kissing and sucking on his cock, his balls and
especially his asshole. Like a baby's asshole -- pink,
tight, just ready to be loved. I couldn't get enough."
"I hope he returned the favor."
"Yeah, and then some. He gave me what your dad got."
"The best ass-fucking you've had in years?"
"Dear, you have no idea."
"You always were partial to that."
"And you're not?"
"Like mother, like son," Bobby said, the boyish grin
cranked up to full force.
"But he would only do it there or in my mouth. Swore he
really liked woman, but they whole idea of putting it where
it 'ought' to go turned him off." His mom stood. "Come on,
let's get this stuff upstairs and put away."
He grabbed the box of baby stuff and followed her out
the kitchen and up the stairs to the second floor. Half way
up, he slowed a bit to let her get a few more steps above
him. Her lovely bottom swayed back and forth as she climbed
and more of the upper thighs came into view. She looked
back.
"What do you think you're doing, young man?"
"Looking up your skirt," he said, smiling.
"This old butt? Ha! You've got way better at home."
"Mom, I've always said your ass is the best on the
planet. Still is."
"We seem to be a family of ass worshippers."
"I can only speak for myself," he said, and gave his
mom a playful slap on the butt.
They go up to the nursery. There's an old-fashioned
crib, stuffed animals, and wallpaper with scampering baby
animals.
"Do you recognized it?" Kitty asks.
"What?" Bobby stands next to her, looking down at the
crib filled with toys.
"The crib."
"It's a crib. I mean it's nice and all."
"It's yours. Your dad pulled it out of the attic and
cleaned it up."
He puts his arm around her.
"Don't tell me you and dad are looking forward to
having a baby around the house again?"
"Your dad is looking forward to having a little girl
around the house," his mom says, giving him a knowing
squeeze. "If that's alright with you and Liddy."
He strokes her hair and the back of her neck, inhaling
her aroma. His mother's smell, so intimate, so familiar, so
full of their life together before he left home for college,
fills his nostrils and makes him dizzy for her all over
again.
"Of course. We'll just keep Liddy out of it for awhile,
OK?" He nuzzles her neck.
"Sure." She falls silent again.
"What is it mom?" Bobby strokes her arms.
"I was thinking about, how much I miss ... having you
around."
He lets his hands slip to her waist. He pulls her
close, his hands firm on her buttocks as he presses his
fullness against her belly.
"You have me around right now," he whispers against her
cheek.
"Is that why you came over today?" she teases him.
"Is that why you asked me over, when dad just happens
to be out?"
She looks down, embarrassed.
"Hey, did you think that just because I'm married it
would be any different between us?"
"Boys grow up. Develop other ... interests. And she is
twenty-five -- half my age -- and gorgeous."
"Mom, when I'm sixty and your eighty-two, I'll still
want you."
"No you won't."
He lifts her chin and gives her a slow, deep, luscious
kiss on the mouth. Their lips part; tongues touch, entwine;
they breathe from each other. Bobby feels his mother's
breasts, still firm and ripe and lovely, pressed against his
chest, the nipples poking into him. She for her turn melts
at the bulge pressed against her crotch, and sways back and
forth against him to feel him better.
The crib, the stuffed toys, the baby wallpaper, the
whole smell of the room, unleash memories of the years she'd
spent raising him. Of the special relationship that had
developed between them. The relationship she feared, knew,
had ended.
Suddenly it's clear that neither of them can stop
what's about to happen, that neither of them wants to stop.
"What if Ralph comes back?"
"He can join us. He'd like that again."
"I won't let him. I want you all to myself today." She
takes him by the hand. He holds back.
"Why not right here, in the crib? Where it all
started."
"It started next door, in the bedroom, silly, the
weekend your father and I decided to make you, not in
there." She pulls him out of the nursery into the bedroom
doorway.
"Right here," she says, indicating the large antique
bed. "You were born in that bed, too. That's where it
started. Here, I'll show you."
She opens the bedroom closet and pulls down from the
top shelf a bundle wrapped in brown paper and string. She
caresses it lovingly before handing it over to him. He takes
it, puzzled.
"Open it up. I can always wrap it again."
They sit on the bed, hip pressed against hip, arm
brushing arm. The familiar, now much more intense smell of
her nearly overwhelms him. To her, he smells both of the
little boy she raised, and the man he'd so suddenly become.
He unties the string and pulls open one end of the
package.
"Sheets." He's still puzzled.
"We were at it all weekend. From Friday night to Sunday
afternoon. Never got out of bed except to pee and eat. And
even then we kept at it, in the bathroom, the kitchen, the
stairs. The sheets were a mess by the time it was over. But
we were so tired, we couldn't get up the energy to change
them. We slept for 15 hours, rolling around in the smelly
dampness we'd made. By the time your father went off to work
Monday morning, I knew I was pregnant. I didn't have the
heart to wash them, and I wasn't going to throw them out."
He peels back the brown paper. A large dark brown stain
appears.
"When it came time, I couldn't go to the hospital. I
wanted to have you in my own bed, with all our friends and
lovers around. I put the sheets back on."
Together mother and son unfurl the stale sheets. Old-
fashioned heavy white cotton sheets, with an embroidered
hem. A large deep brown stain graces the center. Spreading
out nearly to the bottom hem. His mother's blood, dried and
held tight by these threads for twenty-nine years. Yellow
and off-white stains dot much of the rest of the sheet:
what's left of the sweat and spendings and dribbled urine
from days and nights of frantic, hysterical, unquenchable
love-making. Kitty and Bobby spread their arms and step
back, pulling the sheet flat. It is stiff, crusty with dried
cum.
Bobby looks at his mother across the billowing sea on
which he sailed into this world.
"Let's put them on again."
They wordlessly strip the bed, tossing the unneeded
linen down the stairs. Once the bed is bare to the mattress
pad, they stretch the fitted sheet to the four corners and
snap it in place. Then the top sheet, less stained, mostly
with the blood where the sheet had dipped into the pool
between her legs. They stuff the two pillows their pillow
cases, cases obviously used as towels when there were no
more dry clean ones at hand.
Kitty and Bobby take turns undressing, watched each
other. Sunlight pours in through the open windows, as does
the singing of birds and the distant tumult of children
playing hide-and-seek. A light breeze ruffles the curtains.
His mother's body, the body that had swallowed the
seed, the body that had cradled him as he developed, that
had been torn open in pain for his birth, that had fed him,
reveals itself to him yet again: her sweetly curved figure,
the full breasts, the hips that still seem too small to have
let him pass. In her younger days she had kept herself
shaved, but he was glad to see the dense triangle of dark
forest between her legs.
Then it is his turn. Her knees trembling, she sits down
on the bed, afraid she won't be able to stay standing. His
chest, still covered with only the lightest fuzz of hair,
his lovely ass, strong and shapely. And then his penis,
stiff and erect, glistening at the tip, appears over the
band of his briefs. He pulls them off, letting his cock
spring free, the balls swinging against his thighs.
She reaches for him and he steps close to her. She
touches his cock, for the first time in longer than she
would like to remember. It trembles and jumps under her
touch. She gently wraps her hand around it and with her
other hand cups his balls, like a wounded bird.
"It was so tiny when you were born," she murmurs almost
to herself. "But standing proud in all it's baby glory. Did
you know you were born with a hard-on? I couldn't help
touching it even then. Or kissing it." Her lips follow her
words. She inhales. Brushes his flesh up and down with her
lips, bringing a groan from him. Licks the pre-cum dripping
from the top.
"I remember the first time you came. You said, 'Now I'm
a man.' But you were still my little boy." She yearns to be
full with him again. She opens her mouth and takes him in.
Her mouth, gentle, loving, tender, but longing to
devour him, brings him to the edge of climax. He stops her
with a hand on her shoulder, and with gentleness equal to
hers pushes her down on the bed. Raising and spreading her
legs, she gratifies that fascination he'd had since he was
boy.
Bobby peers at his mother's sex, spreads with trembling
fingers the folds of her body, drinks in the mystery of that
dark, hidden, secret place, the place he has more claim on
than anyone, the place he'd been more intimate with than any
of the hundreds of men and women who'd trespassed there over
the last three decades. How, he wondered, was it possible
that he'd fallen out into the world through such an opening,
this tear in the universe, this passageway separating his
being now from his non-being then?
He presses his mouth to her, tries to match the opening
in her body with the opening in his, tries to suck the
Absolute out of her and into himself, seeks it out with his
tongue, and then with his hand, wanting to reach in and --
what, take hold and wrest it our of her, or return himself
to it?
"Fuck me darling, come into me."
He surges up over her, like the night sky lowering
itself in a storm upon the earth, and surges into her. His
penis rushes forward, back to its birth, opening her again,
filling her again, touching her womb again. A broken sob
bursts from her mouth. He cums, flooding her again with
fresh seed, her own seed returned to her, seed to make a new
her and a new him.
___________________________________________________
You are free to repost this story, but only in it's
entirety, including author's email address.
COPYRIGHT 2003 QUIVERING_FLESH@YAHOO.COM
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