Birthday Blues

I knelt at her feet and gently parted her legs. She stirred, but settled again a moment later. Her breathing was deep and even; a sure sign that she was still sleeping.

Her feet were together, legs apart, being pried open by my hands resting on her knees. My gaze fixed on the outline of her pussy, clearly visible through the flimsy material of her bikini bottoms. They were awfully damp, the moisture making the outline of her cleft even more prominent. I wondered whether the dampness was sweat or pussy secretion. But then the thought vanished, as I was overcome with an urge to see Mum's vagina in the flesh, in all its naked glory.

I gently forced her knees to the floor, so her legs were wide apart with the soles of her feet pressed together. I reached in between her legs and hooked a finger inside the elastic of her bottoms and pulled them to one side. My eyes bulged and my mouth gaped as her pubic hair came into view, then the slit of her vagina, accompanied by two fleshy pink folds protruding from the slot, all moist and glistening. It was the most incredible thing I had ever seen, like juicy rashers of bacon wedged between two burger baps.

The fleshy folds looked so soft and tasty, so I reached in and ran the tip of my forefinger over both lips, then up and down the slit. It felt damp and warm, all silky-smooth. I gathered gooey moisture on the tip of my finger then rubbed it between finger and thumb to test its consistency; it felt thick and slippery, like pre-cum. I surmised that Mum had also been sexually aroused during our frolicking session.

I put my hand to my nose and inhaled the musky scent of Mum's pussy. I was struck by a dizzy euphoria. In a befuddled state, a stupor of arousal, I was consumed by an urge to wedge my stiffy inside Mum's pussy crevice once more, but this time unhindered, flesh-to-flesh, pussy-to-cock, with no bathing suits in the way.

I stood up quickly and tugged off my speedos. My cock snagged on the waistband at first as I yanked them down over my thighs. It was so stiff, pointing straight up in the air, almost touching my tummy, with the foreskin pulled taut. So taut, in fact, the foreskin had retracted back and snagged behind the rim of the glans, leaving the super-sensitive head completely exposed.

I gasped as I pulled down my speedos, feeling the fabric graze harshly over the head of my cock, making me judder with sensation. Gazing down at my aching erection, I was momentarily shocked. It looked monstrous. I'd never seen it in such a state of arousal, so big and rigid. There was a transparent layer of slime coating the shaft, making it look all the more hideous. The prominent veins looked like ivy growing up a tree stump.

I touched my thumb to the head and pushed it down and away from my body, so it was pointing straight forward, then released it and let it spring back up. It hit my tummy with a loud slap and left behind sticky residue inside my belly button.

Then Mum stirred and turned over on her side, into a foetal position with her legs together and her knees drawn up to her chest. I cursed under my breath, lay down behind her and cocked a leg and rested it on her upper thigh, before mashing my stiffy against the soft skin of her back. I no longer cared about her vagina; I just wanted to see what it would feel like to press my cock against her body. Anywhere would do, just so long as I could feel her sweaty skin touching my throbbing erection.

Our bodies melted together and the skin-on-skin contact felt incredible. I laid my head on Mum's shoulder and smelt a faint hint of perfume, mingled with her musky sweat, then felt the warmth radiating from her docile body. The scent was intoxicating and heightened my arousal further.

The aroma spurred me into action, and I began thrusting my hips gently, back and forth, sliding my stiffy over Mum's back, smearing her smooth skin with my gooey pre-cum. The slime from my willy mingled with Mum's perspiration and made her skin slippery-wet, allowing the shaft of my cock to glide over Mum's back with lubricated ease.

Still thrusting gently, I reached down and yanked Mum's bikini bottoms to one side, exposing her buttocks, which were wide open. I used my thumb to push my todger forward, so it was pointing away from my body, and wedged it between her butt cheeks. It was like a wiener inside a hotdog bun, and I immediately felt the head of my cock touch her anus as her buttocks gripped my erection.

It was warm and damp inside her arse crack, all snug and cosy. I snaked my right arm under her armpit and gripped her shoulder for extra purchase and swayed my hips back and forward, in a gentle, monotonous motion. As soon as I felt the rosebud of Mum's anus, grazing over my fully exposed mushroom-head, my body jolted, my legs jerked and stiffened, and I ejaculated hard, filling Mum's arse crevice with cream.

I pulled my cock out from her buttocks, let the bikini bottoms fall back into place, and then watch, fascinated, as my semen seeped from her bum crevice, spreading out and soaking her bikini bottoms from the inside. I went to bed after that, leaving Mum asleep on the floor. Feeling strangely satisfied, and just a little perplexed, I fell straight to sleep.

That happened six weeks ago. I remember it like it was yesterday. It'll be etched in my mind forever.

I noticed a change in Mum's behaviour after that night. She spent the following day mooching around the house, nursing a hangover. But she seems to have lost that spark, that playfulness that made her a unique mum. We've not cuddled on the couch or wrestled since, and she seems aloof around me at times. I know something's bothering her and I've a feeling it has to do with that night, after we returned home from Frank and Shelia's. Then again, she was drunk, so I'm not too certain how much she actually remembers. And besides, she was fast asleep when the real hanky-panky was occurring. Perhaps it was the fact her bottom was glued up with dried spunk the following morning. I giggle to myself when I imagine her trying to take a poop the next morning and finding her butt hole jammed with crusty semen.

I'm not too disappointed that Mum has laid off the lovely-dovey, touchy-feely affection. As I said, it was starting to get embarrassing with the erections and all. Still, even now, after what happened that night, the thought of Mum seeing me with a erection, or, God forbid, completely naked, makes me quiver with fear and blush with embarrassment.

Although I remember the events of that night with great fondness, I have no desire to repeat them.

I mean, she's my mum, for fuck sake. Should a boy really be touching his mother like that? Once is adolescent experimentation; twice is weird; three times is a full-blown incestuous relationship. Don't get me wrong, I feel fortunate to have had that encounter, to have experienced that side of my mother; I'm honoured and don't regret it one bit. I'm willing to bet that not many lads get to sample their mother's body sexually. Well, my advice, if the opportunity ever comes your way, don't pass it up, because, believe me, it's an awesome experience.

Anyway, back to the here and now.

I'm lying on my front, with a raging boner and two bandaged hands. Mum's straddling my buttocks, massaging my shoulders and stroking my back. It's the first time we've shared any real physical contact since that night, six weeks ago, and I would be enjoying it, if it were not for the fact that, due to my injured hands, I've been unable to masturbate for the past week. And Mum touching my body is sustaining my stiffy, which in turn is making my neglected and rather bloated balls throb with an incessant need for evacuation.

I feel Mum's fingers slowly sneaking up the sides of my bare torso. Then her fingers are in my armpits, wiggling, tickling me relentlessly. I squirm on the bed and tell her to cut it out.

"Oh, you dirty boy!" exclaims Mother. Holding her fingers to my nose she says, "Smell that."

It's the smell of my armpits, my body odour on Mum's fingers - and it reeks awful. I feel my cock deflate, shrivel to the size of a pea, such is the stench emanating from her fingers.

She dismounts my body and says, "Christ! When was the last time you had a wash? I think I best run you a bath."

"Can't it wait till later?" I whine. "I'm starving."

"Okay. Since it's your birthday, we'll eat first. But, you mark my words, you're straight in that bath the minute we step back through the door. You'll be stinking the entire house up before too long."

"I'll sit in the bath, but I won't be doing much washing. Not with my hands in this state," I reply, holding up my bandaged hands.

"Yes, well, I can help you with that. I'm quite capable of washing you while you're in the bath. I am your mother, and I've done it a million times before," she informs me, sounding strangely enthusiastic.

Did my mother just say she was going to wash me in the bath? Oh shit! My life has just got worse!