Candy Finds Her Son Handy & Dandy

"Yes, I would love to taste you mom." She suddenly realized where our conversation had taken us, and a look of uncertainty crossed her face. Before she could voice her objections though, I was kneeling between the thighs and putting my mouth where my mommy was. I strategically gave a long slurp from her labia up to her clit and then toggled the love-nub gently. She gave a little cry of surrender and spread her legs more, so that I had better access to her feminine charms. I used everything I knew to provide those regions with pleasure. I could tell that I was getting to her, her hips were bucking and she threw a leg up on the cushioned arm of the chair to give me full entree to her womanhood.

I knew what she wanted, but I also understood that I could not take advantage of her. I loved her too much to do that. So as the thrusting of her pelvis indicated she was ready to be taken, I instead, noble son I, concentrated on her clitoris and thrust two fingers in the sopping wetness of her hole. I sawed in and out and made a vibrato with my tongue on the button. That did the trick and mom screamed as she peaked over the top and came sailing away on the wind of an orgasm, like the clouds streaming over a mountain crest both ethereal and chaotic the wild flow of her undulations whipped. Then she was floating down, like the rolling mist, lost in the fog of contentment and wispy in her settling back into the cushions like a fluffy kitten. Sex kitten, like the Lolita-esque actress who played Candy. At least she hadn't called out 'Daddy!'

Mom looked at me with an amazed expression. "I can't believe I let that happen. I can't believe that you didn't fuck me. I'm glad though, that you didn't take advantage of your mother's weakness, even though I had told you about it. Come up here and give me a kiss. I moved to her out-reached arms and we embraced. My still stiff boner pressed right on her mons. It didn't go unnoticed. "Could you get-off just rubbing on my tummy? I'll tell you about me and Grandpa. That always got your father hot. I know it's not exactly fair compensation for what you did, but maybe it will take the edge off your arousal to cum that way."

As much as I would have like to do some more intimate messing around with mom, the opportunity to get the scoop on her previous incest was too tempting to pass up. Besides, the way I was primed from the earlier activity, not much stimulation would be needed to trigger my own orgasm, I was so hyped. The mental picture alone of mom as a young adult and Grandpa in his prime was certainly an image that was provocative. I remembered an old photo of them at the beach, her bikini quite tiny and her pop muscular and handsome, if slightly balding. I nodded my head yes and spoke, "That would do the trick, I think."

"Well, I was a couple years younger than you, nineteen, I had my birthday a month before this took place. Momma was visiting Aunt Ellen who was nearly due with your cousin Jack. Mom was staying until after the baby was born 'cause Uncle Fred was in the service overseas, in the Navy on a minesweeper ship. So it was just daddy and me at home. I was always wondering what made mother cry-out so intensely when she and pop were making love. Was it his dick; was there something special he did with it? Or what he did when he had it in her, like touching her in a special spot at the same time? I knew the basics, I had a clit, just like any girl, but what did my daddy do to my momma, to make her clamor so much when she climaxed?"

"I wanted to find out, and I thought, if I could get my dad to show me, then I would make those same noises and have that same ecstasy. So I planned to seduce him. One thing I knew sort of got daddy hard was when I wore one of his shirts. For some reason, he found that erotic and I caught him peeping to see if I had any undies on underneath. Long tee-shirts didn't tease him as much, my bikini was not any big deal, even a slip and a bra would hardly get a rise out of him. But just let me wear one of his old button up dress shirts and he got curious about if I was wearing panties or not. So sometimes, to thrill him and me too, I was scandalously without scanties."

I asked mom, "Did you ever let him look – under the shirt, or get a glimpse of your naked buns, even flash your pubs?"

"Just enough, only very quickly and never blatantly, did I let him get the peek he wanted to have. But especially if mom was around I wore panties, but it was a game, see? Was I or wasn't I? If I was naughty and nude, beneath the shirt tails, might he get a gander at my privates? If I was letting him get a little 'eye-Candy' of my most secret skin, then he really got big and tented his pants. He would try to hide it under the newspaper, but I could tell, because his face would flush and his breathing became deep with a sigh now and then, and he became real quiet. Mom would sometimes guess what I was up to, 'cause she'd say, 'You're not being fair to your father, baiting him like that.'

A lot of times after my jail-bait teasing thoroughly got pop worked up he would do mom and I'd hear her howl with happiness when they went to bed. So when I was past jail-bait, and mom was gone that time, I decided that I would take our game to the next level. In fact, I upped it several notches. I made up several excuses, very reasonable; yet to do this and that, I was parading back and forth in front of my father with just a buttoned up shirt, no panties. And every time I passed him, a new button would be undone. First the top one, then the lowest, then second from the lowest, with my pert nipples poking at the thin cotton, and my blond fuzz making haphazard appearances as I strolled past."

"Did he notice you were doing a slow strip tease?"

"OH! Yeah! Did he ever! And he had to adjust a couple of times to get comfortable. He was about to bust his zipper, I swear! Then I made my move and came and sat on the wide arm of the easy chair he was in. I bent to talk to him and he could look at my boobies, and when I crossed my legs, the shirt's side split showed lots of hip and no material beneath of any sort. Then I switched my legs and did a 'Sharon Stone' peek-a-boo of my crotch to dad. I had him primed and then I began to interrogate him. 'Daddy,' I wheedled, 'I want to know what you secret is.' Mom lowered her voice a tad, 'What secret do you mean?' he asked, not having a clue of course, where I was going, just enjoying his free show, and not thinking much.

"I asked, 'What do you do to mom, to make her so vocal and loud when you make love?' Swear to God, right then man almost choked on his tongue! He sputtered, then gave a weak chuckle and then tried to gain control of himself and the conversation. 'What do you mean? And you shouldn't be listening at our door, that's private.' I answered back and swung my legs over his lap at the same time, so he could see my thighs almost to the pubic hair. Gee you're plenty hard now!"

"Mom! You said that to Grandpa?!"

"No! I meant you, babe! I can feel you stiff and rubbing against me. Just continue to do that while I tell you all about your grandpop and me. And he was about to 'pop' out of his pants alright, when he saw that he could all but see my pussy. I answered his protest, 'It's not so private when you can hear her clear to the end of the block!' He admitted that she did make a fuss. 'What do you do to the woman to get her so worked up she makes like an air-raid siren?' I continued to pry. His pry bar was uncomfortable I could tell, so I slid down to kneel on the floor in front of him. Naturally the shirt I had on caught on his knees and slid up exposing my muff and tummy – but no panties! I undid his belt and button, then unzipped his fly. He looked on like a scared rabbit in the hypnotized stare of a big snake."

"Only I was the one looking at the snake, and it was nice size, but nothing so spectacular to cause the commotion mom made. Guess what, daddy didn't have any underwear on that night either!" mom giggled a bit. "I guess that sometimes he went 'commando' as it's called. I touched my pop's poker and it jumped! I undid the last two buttons of the shirt on me, so he could see my throat and the cleavage and right down to my labia and he was looking alright! I put the tip of his prick in my mouth and bobbed my head a touch, just to give him a taste of my going down on him. Then I asked again, 'What makes mom moan so noisy, daddy? How do you do it?'"

"His breathing was getting ragged, and the head of his dick was like a plum, purple and swollen. 'We shouldn't . .' he said. I almost whispered, 'Shouldn't do what, dad?' He looked at me and made up his mind that he was the man, and he was going to take charge of this naughty daughter of his and not let her have him at her mercy. No! The other way around! I could see that thought flood his mind, just like it was a spill of red wine spreading on a white table cloth. 'Shouldn't do what, dad?' I repeated. 'Do this!' He growled and he took the shoulders of the shirt on me, and pulled it right off in one strong manly gesture, stripping me bare. He didn't say any more, he just did what he knew I wanted him to do. He clutched me by my arms and he came out of the chair, turned, and planted me back down in the cushion, seated right where he had been. All in one motion so that we were reversed in position."

"He opened my legs at the thighs and indicated I should scoot my hips forward with a tug behind my knees. 'This is what makes your mother wail like a banshee.' he explained, then buried his face in my juncture and gave me the best eating out that I have had before or since."

I was rubbing, sawing my boner on mom's mons, the crinkly hair was a fine friction on the underside and my cock skittered up by the clit and lowered to touch the damp split and I wanted to put it in her so bad that I could scream. I guess screaming runs in the family. Mom continued to rock her pelvis with me, to enhance my dry-fucking as she finished the story.

"I loved what he was doing, and he was doing everything that lips and tongue and sucking mouth can do to a female's sexual anatomy. But not just what he was doing, but the way he did it. The variety, and combinations, alternating warm and coolness, and different pitches to the hums and types of strokes which sometimes his tender or otherwise firm flesh made in contact with my feminine tissues. He did it for a long time, and I came and came, and was screaming like mom at the end. And I said the same thing she did, when she could take it no more, when she was at the limit of endurance, we needed the same thing of him."

"He, having so sweetly tortured us so, had to comply; had to obey our command of love, our demand of lust. 'Put it in! Give it to me!' I yelled down to daddy with his face in my genitals, 'FUCK ME NOWW! Please! Fuck me daddy, put it in and fuck me . . . ffuucckk mmeee!'" she echoed the clarion call of the same sounds she had made then and which evidently grandma gave too at the instant of ecstasy turned almost agony.

I almost thought for a moment she was asking me to actually do it to her. But then I knew that this was in her imagination, and was not our time yet. I saw in my mind's eye, his pants down around his knees and his penis sliding into mom's vagina as she had begged him to do. Then, I came on top of mom as she bucked up recalling her fuck-lust with her parent and lost in the memory, even as I was overcome with lust for her and thought of what it would be like to go in the hole where my grandfather had been. To cum in my mother, even as her father certainly had released himself within her as well. A large dollop of jism squirted on her abdomen, even as my mom also climaxed from her fantasy of remembrance.

As we both calmed down from our orgasms, for mom had gotten off on the memory as much as having me dry-hump her; mother ran her hands through my hair and gave my face kisses, on forehead, lips, cheeks, even nose. "Mmm . ." she cooed, "That worked alright, didn't it?"

"Yeah, I did get into the narrative, that was hot! Just one time huh?"

"Yes, neither of us wanted to hurt mom, and we felt that if we didn't stop there, it would be sneaking and secrets and get messy. So we mutually agreed that it had to be a onetime only tryst. But now I knew why mom moaned and I could make suggestions to my lovers as to how to improve their cunnilingus. And neither daddy, nor I, lacked for sex. At least I didn't until you father went from romantic to routine, and now it seems eating my pussy is old hat, and sex is comfortable like an old slipper, for lazy days around the house. When did my vagina become antique footwear?"

"I think mom, maybe the 'Candy' needs a new wrapper, and a fresh ad campaign to remind dad that his bride is the Candy-dish he married and the sweetest sugar-baby around, so that he treats you like the true treat you are. That not only does he gets his own lollipop licked, but he'll rediscover he has a sweet-tooth for nibbling your charms and licking your dainty confections."

"Well, getting a new sexy night gown is the easy part. What do you suggest for the new and improved advertisements to regain his zest for my charms and reinvigorate him in my bed chamber?"

"I'm not sure yet, why don't I sleep on it . . . in your bed with you. I'm sure something will cum up, in the course of the doing that, I'm bound to be inspired!"

"I know what will be in-'spire'-d, and I might get speared by your fresh ideas, if I'm not on my guard. Do you think I should sleep with the fella that is out to seduce me? Not to mention, I might just sleep-walk, and roll right over on top of him and sleep-screw his brains out. I think that is a dangerous idea indeed! Especially if you sleep in the raw like your momma does. You do, don't you?"

We were back to word-play. "Yeah, but remember that I have exerted the most exemplary self-control and been the most honorable of suitors. So even if I'm just in my birthday-suit I will be respectful your virtue, virtual as it might be, because you certainly weren't a virgin when you met pop. And besides which, the version you told me of making it with your father means that incest is not unknown in the realm of your boudoir!"

"We were in the living room, remember. But alright, if you promise to be good." (Which meant 'yes' to bundling with her! OKAY!)

"I promise to be on my best behavior, and if I'm not I promise that I'll be good."

"Do you know the difference between a nice girl and a good girl?"

"No, what is it?"

"The nice girl wakes up and says, 'Good morning, Lord.' - the good girl wakes up and says, 'Good Lord! Morning?' So if we are both good in bed together, we are going to be very naughty. But that's not the deal, if you sleep with me; you let me get my beauty rest. Understood?"

"Okay, I get it – I'll be . . nice."

"Well, not too nice, that would be boring. Then you might as well be your old man!" She laughed. "Hey, there's a movie I know that your dad wouldn't want to see with me, but perhaps you'd like to come and watch it with me? It's an Italian art flick, subtitles and obscure meaning and all that?"

I knew which side my bread was buttered on, or which side of the bed the margarine (and mother) was spread. [That's an obscure reference to "Last Tango In Paris" if you will. But hey, if Brando got into Candy's panties, perhaps I might also.] Despite my promise, I suspected that mom might be wanting to let things continue and dabble in incest once more. So European art films here we come, or cum, whatever worked to get me onto mom's mattress and between her thighs again! "Sure, mom, I'd love to."

So we went out for a romantic dinner at a French restaurant, some nice Burgundy wine with Chateaubriand for two and then the cinema. A rare revival showing of "La Luna" by Bernardo Bertolucci, the same guy that did "Last Tango in Paris" and this was about - get this – mother and son incest! Not "Taboo" but it was in the 'ball'-park, if you will! Jeez! I wondered if mom had that planned or what? She must have known about the showing of that film before I even had made my first move on her. So the whole milieu of that evening dovetailed into the theme of familial sexual intimacy. Once more I wondered at mom's motives, and if perhaps we were working at converging carnal purposes. It seen so!

When we returned home, mom seemed tired and wanted to hit the sack soon. I put some things in the dishwasher and went to my room and stripped, then headed to her bedroom, sans pajamas or any other garment. She was already in the sheets, but my side was turned down to show she had expected me. I slid in to the linens and cuddled up to mom, spooning to her since her back was toward my side. As mentioned earlier, she also likes to sleep in the bluff, and we were two bare bodies cozying up close and personal. In no time, my boner was bumping her buns. I could feel her cheeks clenching and pushing to settle it in the crack.

"What did you think of the movie?" mom queried.

"I thought it was an interesting film, though the middle part was sort of slow."

"How did you like the ending?"

"A little too obscure, it should have been more direct as to the conclusion, less editing of the consummation, more graphic of the sex between the mother and son, bolder in its depiction of incest." My erection was pressed hard against my mother's back-side and rubbing now up and down a bit to let her know I wanted to do more. Just like the movie had not had enough action but implied more, I desired to couple with her as the pair on screen had; if you observed that the obscured was obviously obscene. However, my well prepared critique that I had rehearsed in my mind for just that question from her backfired. Mom turned on her back and had gales of hysterical laughter. She pulled me to her in a hug, all the while uncontrollably screaming because she thought my little speech totally funny, though I did not see the humor of my probative criticism.

"I suppose that you would have liked that mainstream movie to be as graphic as "Taboo"? Or that scene in "American Taboo: Three" with the mother and son in the bathroom?" Wait a minute, how did she know about the second incest film? I of course, with my obsession for mom, had downloaded such classic clips. "You have certainly do have a little Oedipus complex thing going on, don't you?"

I lifted myself over her and thrust my rigid rod against her abdomen. "Does this feel like it's a 'little thing'?"

Mom's eyes got wide open and she smiled that smirky smile again, "No it doesn't, is that all for me? Goodness!" she teased.

"Yeah I wanted to see them do it, naked and sweaty and grunting and going at it without any reservations and lots of X-rated shots. How come you knew that was playing at the theater? And how do you know about "American Taboo: Three"? What gives with that, mom?"

"You mean, what's up with the incest flicks? I'd say you are . . up - that is. You know that I have been on to your lust for me for quite some time now. Since you now know about my own experimentation with incest with my father, don't you think I might take an interest as to the subject as a parent as well. I know how to Google. I found the stuff on the Internet. I couldn't plan the art-house showing of "La Luna" when your dad was going to be out of town, that was serendipity, and you were the one that rented "Candy". I didn't know about that until it was on the TV screen last night. Maybe it was kismet or karma or whatever the cosmic forces that worked to bring the plot for "Candy" to the moment of her incestuous realization that brought all those things together. But that was just a movie, fiction, this is real life."

Mom started to maneuver me between her thighs and her pelvic thrust was creating some very hot friction in the real life of our connections physically. "I'm pretty tired, but if you want to cum, I understand. Or you can save it for the morning."