Finding Our Way Ch. 03

I leaned into her, and kissed her. How could I not? My hands held her angelic face as I kissed her gently over and over, saying "Thank you," between each kiss. Her eyes smiled approval, and I kissed her chin. I kissed her neck. My hands made way for the kisses; my left went to her soft warm smooth right breast and my right hand slid her robe off her left shoulder. "Thank you." I kissed her collar bone, every inch to each shoulder. "Thank you." I kissed her arms, her elbows; all the way to the tips of her fingers before returning to her breasts. "Thank you." My mother laughed as I kissed her chest hungrily. I lingered there with my mouth and my hands, but found myself moved to continue down. "Thank you." I kissed the arc of the underside of her rib cage, down the center of her flat stomach; her left hip bone, the right. "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you." I kissed her right on the pelvic bone, and then nibble gently on the tendon where the inner thigh meets the groin. I kissed each inner thigh. Even her knees. She giggled, falling back onto the bed.

I scooted back up, and looked directly at her sore pink vagina; which had taken and given such a glorious pounding this weekend (not to mention the whole week before.) "And I especially thankyou." I said to my mother's crotch. She threw her head back and laughed as I gave her pussy a loud smacking kiss. Her body shivered as my lips pressed the folds that hid her clit. "Oooh!" she said.

"This doesn't hurt your poor aching little pussy, does it?" I asked. Then I stuck the tip of my tongue into the lowest part of her hole, and ran it up to her button. Mom bucked a bit and I could hear her gasp. "Is that okay, Baby?" I asked. "You aren't too sore to play like this are you? I can stop if you want me to."

Her breasts bulged as her arms reached down towards my head. "Ohhh fuuuuuck yessss. You go on and keep playing me like that, Baby. Don't you fucking stop." And her fingers were in my hair, urging my face back to her cunt.

I've gone down on women before, and there's always a different taste; not just from woman to woman, but from time to time. I don't know if it's diet or time since self-cleaning or if it's just in my head, but some days it taste better than others. Mom had ridden my face earlier that week, and her dancer-with-tits body held my attention beyond any particularly good or bad flavor. But on this evening my mother tasted like ambrosia. I couldn't believe it. Who knows? Maybe it was my feelings of deep love and admiration for her – how effortlessly she handled and mixed our incendiary sexual attraction and her ability to help and guide me; how she offered herself up to me completely, but still managed to lead me through my anxieties. Having my tongue inside her was like licking the inside of a jar of honey. I licked and suckled along every fold, plunged my tongue as deep inside as I could stretch it, played across her clitoris from every side at various speeds. I sucked on it carefully, and put fingers inside her when I did.

And all the while I was thinkingThank you. Thank you. Thank you.I don't even know who I was thanking, but I just felt overwhelmed with gratitude, lying there on my stomach with my mouth sealed to my mother's surprisingly delicious pussy.

At some point I reached up and clutched Mom's inviting breasts, and she rubbed my forearms in approval. At some later point she took my fingers and linked them with her own. She shifted and gyrated her hips against my lips and tongue in slow if shaky movements. I could hear her moaning and talking and even screeching once or twice, but it was usually pretty hard to make out the words because her thighs clamped together onto my ears so often.

The one phrase I did catch, that I have held on to ever since is something she said over and over as I both sucked on her whole pussyandstuck my tongue as far into her as it could reach: "Too good to be true! Too good to be true! Too good to be true!"

She came more times than I could count, and it was like an infinite-course feast for me. I actually came twice myself just from tonguing Mom's sweet pie. Finally, she grabbed two fists full of hair, and pulled me up.

"I can't take any more!" she gasped. "That was amazing, Kevin. Absolutely wonderful! It was just the sort of thing I needed after such a...hard hitting weekend. You are incredible! Uh!"

"It was great for me too, Mom. Are you okay?" She was still breathing heavily.

"I'm starving! Let's have a late dinner, then my mouth will return your mouth's favor for desert."

Too good to be true! Too good to be true! Too good to be true! Thank you. Thank you. Thank you!

Part 3

Mom's idea that I bring my frustrations home to our bed couldn't have worked as she'd planned it. I don't want to vent anger between her thighs. I want to celebrate when I'm there. Her idea might have worked in another way, in that if someone were to give me shit (in reference to Doobie's assertion that I must be gay to have walked away from Kim) just thinking about pounding away at my mother's very willing and able pussy would have cheered me right up.

But none of that was necessary as it turned out. I had a class with a mutual friend of Doobie's and mine named Dale on Monday, and I was bracing myself for his ribbing. But Dale had no interest in giving me a hard time. In fact, he told me that Kim had reamed Doobie out the night I'd stormed off. "She's completely ended their friendship," he told me. When I asked who he, Dale, was still going to hang out with, he said, "Both for now; just at different times. Kim is still awesome in every way, y'know what I mean. And Doob is still good for a laugh, even if he's kind of a dick most of the time." Dale also alleviated any concerns I'd had about Doobie's ideas being taken seriously. "No, man. I'll admit, it's hard to imagine what made you walk away from someone like Kim, but things don't always work out. Sometimes breaking things off before they get too ugly is the best way to go. You've still got her as a friend, and that ain't bad. Not at all." I'd never imagined Dale could be so circumspect, but he was right. I'd been worried about nothing.

Kim was really turning out to be a great friend, and not just for me. She and Mom met every week or two, and seemed to really enjoy one another's company. I would also hang out with Kim once or twice a week, but my concentration really did turn to finishing up college...and lighting my mother up like a Christmas tree as often as I reasonably could.

In the weeks that followed my realization that my social life wasn't going in the toilet, Mom and I made quite a bit of progress in our campaign to touch nearly every surface of the house with a head, knee or butt while fucking. We completed the den in just two days (I fucked her on the carpeting so hard that I effectively scooted her all the way across the floor, and we considered the entire floor area covered. The guest chairs witnessed Mom's first ever reverse-cowgirl ride in one and a deeply satisfying blow job in the other. I speared my mother in multiple positions to complete the couch.)

One interesting development occurred as we were working on the room, recently re-named the "computer room." This had previously been my bedroom, but we did some re-zoning when we discovered the ongoing explosive joys of one an others genitalia. The "master bedroom," which had previously been known as "Mom's room," was changed to "Our bedroom" because all involved parties agreed that nights were best spent with my cock deep deep in Mom's pussy and/or massaging the back of her throat. So "Kevin's room" fell into disuse, and was simply known as "Kevin's old room."

But then Mom and I started fucking like bunnies on every square foot of the room. To our mutual surprise, we took care of my single bed in one go, reaming her cunt with my pole doggy style, while she rested her head at the foot of the bed.

"Why. Didn't. UH FUCK YES! We. Do. This..." Mom gasped between thrusts.

"...With the couch?" I finished her sentence. We both laughed together, still locked in coitus, and I bent over her as we did. But at some point I noticed the curve of her neck and the muscles in her arms and shoulders as she supported my weight. The view inspired new lusts in me, and I began throwing into her with sudden vigor. She screeched obscene encouragement, twisting and cumming all over my rod, until I blew deep into her.

We collapsed, still wet and connected at the loins. After the usual gasping and satisfaction sounds, Mom looked across the room to the computer desk and chair I'd used for as long as I can remember. My balls were still slick with her cream, but she said, "I wonder just how sturdy that desk chair is."

"Woman," I chuckled, "You will be the smiling death of me!" We laughed together. I knew we'd return

Part 4

The next day, I got to fill my mouth with tit-flesh and nipple as my mother bounced and pitched her lithe body on what she called "my favorite monster" on my desk chair. I thought she was going to hurt her throat, roaring like she did about how she was ready to split in two. Good grief that woman can ride a dick!

Anyway, once the chair cushion was permanently ruined by Mom's heavenly nectar, my spunk and our mixed sweat, she began tapping at the space bar with her bare big toe. She wanted to see what sort of mother-son porn she could find online. I warned her to be careful; that there are some things online that cannot be unseen.

"Then we can look for stories and testimonials of other couples like us."

"Ooookay." We booted the computer up, and found a few sites with a few stories. We were quickly able to develop a few policies that worked for us. Any stories that featured sex with a minor was immediately disqualified. Anything with "forced" or "rape" or "drunk" as a tag word was skipped. We did our best to focus on adult couples who knowingly enjoyed...well...coupling. We spent a surprisingly long time surveying the stories.

"Here's another one where the mother calls herself a 'cum slut.' What the hell?"

I cupped her breasts, and asked, "Does that term offend my little bitch-in-heat?"

She leaned back into my chest. "That's different. I can't help getting heated up by you. Your beautiful cock, sure, but it's you and the workout you can give me that thrills me so much; not your cum. Now, you know I'll swallow every drop of what you put in me. In fact," she said starting to squirm around as my penis began to stiffen again, "I think I may be due for a drink soon, but it's about you; not some obsession with cum."

"And did you notice how in almost every one, the mother says how the guy is so much bigger than his father?"

"Weird," Mom said, reaching for a scrunchie that was on the desk.

"Well, how about it. Was Dad as big as I am?"

"Gimme a sec," she said, climbing down under the desk, and pulling her long black hair back into the scrunchie. Once her hair was back (we both like looking at each other when she's got me in her mouth,) she licked her lips as she adjusted to be at eye level with the hard-on she continued to inspire. "Goddamn, that is such a beautiful dick!" she said, reaching for the meat she craved.

"Woah, hold on!" I said, not believing that I'd actually just stopped my mother from putting my cock in her face. "How about it? Am I bigger? Smaller?"

She squeezed my shaft with her little hand, and stared at it with fire in her green eyes. "Look, Kevin, you father was a good lover, and I enjoyed being intimate with him. But I couldn't tell you one way or the other who was bigger. Your cock – which, I swear, had better be in my mouth in the next thirty seconds or I'll lose my fucking mind – is the only cock I can think about or remember. She stuffed the head into her mouth and swirled her tongue around it, moaning into the mike like it was a relief to have it there. She drew it out with a slurping pop. "Yours is the alpha and the omega of manhood, as far as I'm concerned. No comparisons needed," She licked the shaft, and cradled my balls with her free hand. "The size and shape is perfect for me." Without any indication of what was coming, she deep-throated me. After a ten count, she came up for air. "Perfect for my mouth." Down she went again; my dick far past the tonsils. Up she came. "Perfect for my lucky little pussy." A playful open mouth smooch on the tip of the head. "For all I know or care, every other dick in the world can drop off the guys swinging them. I'm no cum slut, but I'll swear my obsessive commitment to pleasuring you, Kevin, and to whatever you can think of doing to me with this! Aaahh-Mmmm!"

That was all she had to say on the matter. She drank every last drop, as promised. It was more than good enough for me

One set of knee prints under the desk in the "computer room."

I suppose this makes it look like we spent all day every day fucking and sucking, but the truth is that we slowed the frequency – though never the intensity – of our naked conquests (of the house and of each other.) It was out of necessity, so that Mom could still keep up with her ballet lessons and her job, but more so that I could complete my classes with passing grades and graduate college at the end of Spring.

Mom offered up the idea of withholding her exquisite favors until I'd completed my studies for each day. But just knowing that the other was in the same house made this sort of plan insufficient. ("Oops! I didn't realize you were brushing your teeth in here. Well as long as we're both here, I might as well quickly shove my face up your skirt to see if you're wearing any panties. Look at that! You aren't. Mind if I have a little snack as long as I'm down here? You smell delicious!" "Hey! I'm doing laundry right now. Those clothes you're wearing look pretty dirty. Let me help you get them off...Oh my! Isthatforme?") So I maintained the policy of doing all my work outside of the house before I came home. I used computer labs once in a rare while, but I mostly camped out with my laptop at the coffee shop Kim and I used to frequent together. They offered free WiFi internet access, and I was almost never bothered by anyone.

Almost never.

Naturally Kim ran into me there, and her lunch breaks became a regular step in the rhythm of my day. The only days she would fail to show up was when she had a lunch date with my Mom. Mom never came to see me there of course. But I enjoyed Kimberly's visits. She still looked good, still smelled good, she was still an excellent friend to have around and she liked to touch my thigh from time to time.

"I know I can't help you with your tests or papers or anything, Kevin, but if there is some other way I can help, just let me know," she said squeezing my thigh just barely. "In fact, if you're looking for a quieter place to work you know you can still hang out at my place. Don't look at me like that. I'm going back to work in a few minutes. I meant that you can use my apartmentalone. If you're worried I might jump your bones, you can just be out of there before 5:30 so I don't see you."Squeeze.

"Thanks Kim, but I'm just going to hang out here. There are fewer distractions in a shop than in your place. I'm nearly done here for today anyway."

"Cool. I've got to head out now. The offer stands, but no pressure."

I finished up the paper I was working on, and headed home with no outstanding duties other than saving my dear mother from even the remotest sexual frustration.

Some evenings, we filled the house with Mom's shrieks of disbelief that a cock (or a finger or a tongue) could rock her with so much pleasure. Some evenings one or both of us would go out with friends. (Mom deflected friends and colleagues attempts to set her up by saying that she was enjoying a season of being close with her son, and wasn't interested in dating for the time being. Her girlfriends ate up the incredible understatement, and wished they could still be close with their kids. I stuck with "Too much studying and writing for now. Plenty of time for that later." I left out that what spare time I had was being spent tasting every inch of my mother's body, and penetrating her as a thank you.) Other evenings, we would just lounge around the house, and relax, regaining strength spent on ballet, work, classes and testing the fuck-durability of the furniture.

But, no matter how the evenings went, at night we came to the same bed, and snuggled up; like we did the night before our second time. Both of us completely naked, me spooning up behind her. And nearly every time we ended up in deeply penetrating coitus; more intent and loving than the adventurous sprees of the first week or two of our sexual relationship.

Mom still talked a lot about the ecstasy of feeling me deep inside her, but it wasn't the roaring dick-talk I've transcribed in the past. Her tone was of serious emotional movement, touched and amazed at our good fortune in coming together as we have. She said my name a lot, and she often said that she loved me. I think you get the picture, but the change in tempo didn't curb the pleasure; we both came – often simultaneously – with massive shuddering orgasms. I couldn't think of a better way to end the day than entwined with my mother's dancer body, filling her and hearing her heartfelt moans of happiness.

It was an excellent rhythm for our new daily life together...at least for those few months before graduation.

Part 5

Mom and Kim both took personal days from work to attend my graduation. They sat together, huddled in some secret conversation I couldn't hear from my seat among the graduates. It was remarkable to me that they seemed so close, almost affectionate. Kim was completely untroubled having a close friendship with her ex-lover's beautiful mother (though who is to say how she'd have felt if she knew how effectively Mom was doing in the role she, Kim, had not retained.) Mom, the most spectacular lover I'd ever known, was likewise unperturbed talking warmly with the young woman who had previously filled my bed and still lingered in my life as a friend.

Mom knew about Kim's mild flirtations, but it didn't bother her. She knew that whatever Kim stirred up squeezing my thigh was spent with flare in her (Mom's) arms. If anything, she said, she was thankful to Kim for saving her the work, and delivering her man hot and horny to her bedroom door.

I'm sure they found plenty to talk about outside of me, but I never really bothered to find out what. Mom always found a (naked) way of distracting me when I asked.

The ceremony was dull, and I ended up at a restaurant for a celebration late-lunch with Mom and Kim. The others of our social group were joining an idiot the three of us couldn't stand named Doobie for an early start on a night of binge drinking. Doobie wasn't graduating, but he was between jobs at the time anyway, so he was available to celebrate.

I was sitting at a small round table with Mom on my left and Kim on my right. Over the course of the meal, they each occasionally touched the thigh closest to them. I was a bit worried by this, but they also occasionally tapped each other's thigh to punctuate a point or to congratulate on a witty remark.

I excused myself to the restroom, and adjusted myself so that my cock was held along my left leg. This way there was no chance of Kim touching it and being shocked or anything else. And if Mom gave me a squeeze under the table (She did. Several times) then that just made my day all the better.

As the lunch wore down, Kim told me she was taking me out dancing to celebrate at the club where the rest of our friends planned to end up. She asked Mom if she'd like to join us, but Mom demurred. "You two go out and have fun. I've got a few other things to do tonight anyway."