Plain Sailing with Mother

Sheila, my mother, is a very large lady. Big, blonde and beautiful would, I guess, be a good description of her, and her willingness to pull down her pants for her horny son makes her very special in my eyes. Though not being blessed with the biggest of cocks, I nevertheless have no difficulty giving her the pleasure she desires. Fucking a plump, middle-aged matron, especially one's mother, offers delights one does not encounter with thinner women and my ejaculations reach the very pinnacle of sexual pleasure. I have never yet disappointed her nor she me.

I'm not, as I have said, particularly well hung (about six inches), but what I have is like a fat sausage, and Sheila adores it. I have often expressed to her the wish that I was bigger, but she merely smiles, and assures me, "I'm content with what you've got Love. You're lovely and fat, and hard, and my happiest moments are those when you're looking after me."

"But you would enjoy it more if I could raise nine or ten inches?"

"Maybe. But you're just my size. I love to feel you up me, and when you come in me..." her eyes assumed a dreamy, faraway look. "I'm in paradise. Maybe I'm kinky, but I adore the feel of my son's come squirting in me. "

She is not the only woman in my life, for I have also enjoyed two or three affairs; all with married women, but she is constant and ever ready to part her legs for me. I must also confess that though I am fully aware of the immorality of our amours, I could not resist her ample charms even if I wanted to.

But I digress...the object of this little tale is to acquaint you with the unforeseen circumstances that led to the intimate and erotic relationship Mother and I share.

I was about twenty at the time, and she and my father had not long before divorced. I detested my father, but got on pretty well with Sheila, and so I elected to stay on with her - a decision I have never regretted.

I have always been keen on sailing, and not long before the events I am about to relate I purchased a small boat - a small sailing dinghy. At first Mother refused to come out with me. She was afraid, she said, of becoming seasick, but I persisted with my invitations, and finally she gave in.

The day we chose turned out to be ideal for sailing: sunny, with just enough breeze to fill the sail and send the little craft skimming across the water. She soon discovered that she had nothing to fear and was enjoying herself as much as I, but we had only been out for an hour or so, when she suddenly said, "Richard. I have to have a pee."

"You should have had one before we came out," I responded a little tersely, thinking of how long it would take me to tack back to the shore.

"I didn't need one then."

"Then you'll have to wait until we get back to shore," I said irritably.

"No. I can't. If I don't go in the next few minutes I'll pee in my pants."

"Well you'll have to piss into the bottom of the boat," I retorted, my exasperation subsiding, and flashing her a disarming smile.

"I couldn't do that," she argued.

"Why not? it's the only place you have. You have nothing you can dangle over the side like me."

"Don't be vulgar. Anyway, it wouldn't be hygienic."

"It'll smell sweeter than the water slopping around in the bilge right now." This time I did grin.

She stared at me for a moment, her need obviously more urgent than I'd imagined, and said, "You mustn't look." then heaving her plump buttocks off the thwart, she lifted her skirt, eased her pants down over her knees, and parting her thighs began pissing over the duckboards at her feet. "This is most embarrassing, and indecent," she complained, "and you shouldn't be watching."

"I have to see where I'm sailing," I explained, pretending to look over her shoulder, but covertly stealing occasional glances at her luxuriant pussy, and the sparkling stream gushing from between her ample thighs. She is a well endowed woman, and I found the sight of her generous box and its halo of lush blonde fur most pleasing to behold.

"There. That was painless, wasn't it?" I inquired with mock sarcasm, when she'd finished and reached down to pull up her pants.

"It was embarrassing," she persisted, "And I told you that you shouldn't be watching. You're not supposed to see your mother's pussy."

"What makes you think that yours is special?" I enquired blandly. "I've seen one or two in my time, and yours is no different from them."

She glared at me, and I dismissed the incident while I swung the boat onto the starboard tack so that we wouldn't get too far from shore. Glancing to port I saw a sudden ruffling of the sea's surface some quarter-of-a-mile away, and realised what was about to happen. "Quick! Put on your flotation jacket! There's a squall coming."

"I don't see anything," she declared, but had the good sense to take my advice, reaching for her jacket as I tried desperately to reef the sail.

I was too late, and a moment later the wind had us, laying us over to starboard, and blowing out the sail. "Fucking hell!" I swore, momentarily forgetting Mother's presence as I tried to get the boat under control again. It however righted itself , but began to wallow.

Under normal conditions Mother would have become quite irate at my choice of language, but this sudden event had scared her, and she sat quietly as I rigged a spare, but smaller sail to again give us steerage way. All this while the wind showed little sign of abating, and pushed us northward parallel, but dangerously close to the cliffs.

I finally got the spare sail rigged, and decided to head for a small sandy cove about a mile distant. Though the tide was in there would still be a beach where we could wait in safety until the blow was over.

"Tuck your skirt inside your pants, and leave your shoes in the boat," I ordered her. "We'll have to wade ashore." I expected some contrary response from her, but she did as she was bid, and a few minutes later we grounded. I flung the anchor as far as I could up the beach to hold the boat secure, and we waded the few yards to dry land. Mother, with her dress tucked up, I had to admit, showed a fine pair of shapely legs. "You've got a nice pair of legs," I said with a smile. "It's a pity I don't get to see them more often."

I expected another expression of disapproval, but instead she replied with obvious pleasure, "Thankyou Love." I had at last found a chink in her armour. She was proud of her legs.

"What are we going to do now?" she asked apprehensively, pulling her skirt out of her pants and letting it fall back into place.

"Sit it out," I replied. "It should be over in an hour or so."

I was proven wrong, however, and it kept on blowing steadily until sunset. We would have to spend the night here. I told her to gather as much dry driftwood as she could find and take it up to a small cave at the foot of the cliff, while I retrieved from the boat my sleeping bag, some canned food, and other gear I thought we might need.

Her gathering had been more successful than I had hoped and, as darkness fell, I got a roaring fire going. "You can have the sleeping bag, and I'll wrap myself up in the torn sail," I said as we alternately spooned hot casserole from a can. "We'll get off at high tide in the morning."

I always carry a small flask of brandy in my emergency pack, and after we had eaten we shared it, each taking a sip in turn until we had emptied it.

She took it all very well, and we chatted and smoked for a while in the fire's warmth but, as we would have to make an early start in the morning we turned in early. Despite the fire it turned out colder than I had expected, and when after an hour or so Mother said, "I think there might be room for both of us in here, and it would be warmer for you. Would you like to try?" I needed no further coaxing.

"I'll have to have another pee first," she said, crawling out. This time there was no false modesty. She raised her skirt, pulled down her pants, and squatting nearby, began pissing onto the sand.

"I think I'll join you," I said, and pulled out my cock.

She studied it, I thought, with more than casual interest as I followed her example, and when she got to her feet she unhurriedly pulled up her pants without seeming to care that she was momentarily displaying her greatest asset for my openly frank appreciation. "How come you didn't mind showing me your pussy this time," I teased her.

"You already had an eyeful out in the boat," she chuckled, "so you're not seeing anything new."

"Would you be shocked if I told you that you have a truly gorgeous box?" I asked boldly.

"Surprised maybe, but not shocked,' she responded candidly, and then smiled. "I would also be highly flattered."

She waited until I had shaken the last droplets from the end of my cock before slipping back into the sleeping bag, and after throwing more wood onto the fire I followed her. It was a tighter squeeze than I anticipated, but with some wriggling and squirming we made it. I was glad we had done so, for she was lovely and warm, and I quickly became acutely aware of the generous contours of her matronly body.

She giggled. "All this is rather naughty."

"What do you mean?" I asked casually.

"Getting into bed with my son," she replied with a grin.

"Would you like a cigarette before we go to sleep?" I asked, and when she replied that she would, I reached into my pocket to get them. In doing so my hand brushed her thigh, and when I tried to open the packet I brushed a plump breast. This was the last straw and I felt my cock stir.

"Richard!" she exclaimed with obvious surprise when John Thomas raised himself to a standing position. "You are naughty."

"I'm sorry Mother," I apologised, feeling my cheeks flush. "It just sort of happened. I'd better go back to my sail."

"No you won't. You'll stay here," she declared firmly, as I lit our cigarettes hoping desperately that it would take my mind off my awkward condition. "I think I like you being horny for me."

"Mother!" I exclaimed, shocked by her confession, but also thrilled.

"It's quite natural, and I guess it's doing neither of us any harm," she added, and then giggled. "but you really shouldn't feel that way about your mother. It's positively indecent."

"I'm sorry," I repeated, trying unsuccessfully to reposition myself so that my cock wouldn't be so intrusive.

"Don't worry about it," she smiled before taking a draw, "It doesn't bother me. Do you think it may have been the brandy?"

I was inclined to think that the close proximity of her buxom body had affected me far more than the alcohol. I remained hard, but now felt strangely pleased that she didn't seem to mind.

"Oh, Dear!" she chuckled, twisting to throw her butt into the fire. "You are in a bad way. You just poked me in the belly. It's just my luck that the first horny man I get into bed with in ages has to be my son."

She prattled on about some woman she knew who was having an affair with a younger man, but I wasn't listening. In an attempt to get my mind off my dick I tried turning over in my mind d some of the problems which might occur when I tried to refloat the boat in the morning.

I knew of course that Mother had had at least one lover in the short time since Dad had left, and suspected that this wasn't just a recent occurrence, but it didn't bother me. She loved a lively romp in bed - she had told me as much not long before - and if that was what turned her on, that was her good fortune. Then my thoughts abruptly returned to the present when, without warning she slipped a hand down the front of my shorts, her plump fingers curling around my cock.

"Mother! What are you doing?" I exclaimed with a mixture of astonishment and pleasure, but her sensuous caresses silenced me.

"Playing with your cock Love," she replied sweetly. "Is it nice?"

"Wonderful," I replied, and with some difficulty in the confined space of the sleeping bag, got my hand inside her pants and began stroking her pussy. Its lips were swollen and moist.

She giggled and said, "This is all very naughty. But we'll never get another opportunity like this again. Just the two of us shipwrecked with nobody around to see what mischief we get up to."

"I hope you know where this is leading us?" I ventured optimistically.

"Yes, without doubt."

"And it doesn't trouble you?"

"Not at all. This the ideal opportunity for you and I to get to know each other very intimately, don't you agree?"

"I do," I beamed back at her, fingering her. "But you surprise me. I never knew that you were that sort of woman."

She chuckled. "Well I am, and proud of it. Now would you like to check to see if your bit fits in mine?"

"I think that would be a great idea," I assured her. "But it's considered a sin for a son to get it up his mother."

"Maybe," she mused, still caressing my cock. "But at the moment I couldn't care less. Forbidden fruit is always the sweetest. "

Within the confines of the sleeping bag I somehow got her pants down to her ankles, and she got my shorts down to my knees. An instant later she was thrusting eagerly against me and I pushed my six inches deep into her juicy warmth. "Mother, you're a fucking goddess," I murmured. Ecstatically. I had found paradise between her legs.

"Love. You fit me nicely," she replied, thrusting eagerly against me. "I think yours is the fattest I've ever had."

I momentarily wondered how many she had had, but her cunt, I felt certain, must be the sweetest of them all, and now that I was up her, my self-restraint vanished. I really gave it to her, riding her with a vitality I never knew I possessed. I had found my heaven in the velvet embrace of Mother's luscious cunt, and I no longer gave a damn about the immorality of what I was doing. The sensuous caresses of her matronly box aroused me to a pinnacle of pleasure I had neve before attained, and I resolved to make this the most wonderful fuck she'd ever had. "Mother! You're divine." I gasped, now riding her without mercy, my cock slippery with her feminine juices, "So sweet and juicy - like a honey-pot."

She smiled. "You're absolutely gorgeous too, Love. Oh-h, that's wonderful," she murmured, winding her arms around my neck when I slipped a hand under her sweater in search of a plump breast. "You're just my size."

Somehow I managed to unfasten her bra, and began fondling her big, nipples. "Mother. You're gorgeous," I repeated, surrendering completely to my lust. "I never dreamed you could be so sexy...so fucking horny."

She giggled, pleased with my compliment. "I never imagined that you would be so horny too, Love," she sighed contentedly, her cunt lovingly clasping me in its velvet embrace.

The pleasure rose rapidly to that point where there is no going back, and I cried. "Mother! I'm going to come in you!"

"Give me lots," she demanded thrusting harder against me.

"Gallons," I boasted, she giggled, and I came, my ejaculation intense and exciting, my cock throbbing exquisitely as I pumped squirt after squirt into her. "Love!" she cried, hungrily devouring my pumping juice. "You're fucking wonderful. Don't stop."

I became aware of a delicious wetness between us as her juice blended with mine. She was unique among women - the perfect lover - and I knew that there was no going back for either of us. We had tasted the forbidden fruit and found it deliciously sweet.

When I had finished she giggled. "I've never had it so good. It's even trickling down my thigh."

I was pleased with my performance, knowing that she had loved every moment of it. It didn't bother her at all that she had just been fucked by her son. "Love. You and I may have been very, very naughty," she said when I pulled my shrinking cock from her, "But it was heavenly, and I don't feel the least guilty. In fact I cannot remember feeling so happy and content. I hope you are going to give me more?"

"Most certainly," I grinned. "As often as you want it. It's a wonderful surprise to discover that my mother is so eager to fuck, and now that I know, I won't be able to get enough of you."

She chuckled. "After what you've just given me you shall have me as often as you like. I'm glad I've found I have such a horny son."

"Mother. I love you so much," I murmured, taking her in my arms and kissing her.

For a while I lie awake trying to come to terms with what had happened. It was like a dream, but it was for real. She was naked from the waist down and if I put out my hand my fingertips could brush the soft down of her pussy. No, I'd accomplished a remarkable feat. I'd come in Mother's delightful box; an achievement few men attain.

She snored gently, obviously also content with the night's activities, and though I thought of waking her I decided not to. I would wait until morning before I enjoyed her again.

I awoke just before dawn with a magnificent hard, and felt her stir. "Mm. It wasn't a dream after all," she murmured drowsily, gently grasping my hardness. "You really did make love to me."

"Yes I did, and I'm going to do it again," I said boldly, drawing her soft plump body against mine, eager to enjoy her for the second time. "I'm going to fuck you, and fill your lovely cunt with hot cream."

"Oh-h, Love. Yes please. Give it to me!"

I entered her, fucking her without shame, and absolutely enchanted by the sheer juiciness of her voluptuous box. She was my seductress, and when I creamed in her, she squealed with pleasure. I had performed flawlessly, exciting her to the very peak of her passion. My ejaculation was both generous and intense, and she clung to me again hungrily devouring my pumping cream. When I had finished, she asked, "Was that nice?"

"Absolutely divine," I murmured, kissing her tenderly. "How about you?"

"Oh, Love. That was even better than last night," she sighed happily, hugging and kissing me. "It was absolutely fabulous, and I'll never be the same again."

* * * * * * *

Well, dear reader, that is the story of how I came to fuck Sheila, my mother, a diversion I have enjoyed with increasing pleasure as the years passed. I can assure you that, despite her advancing years, she is still a delight to fuck, and I still silently bless that wind squall which forced us to camp in the cave overnight so many years ago.

"Our little cave" as we came to know it, has witnessed many episodes of our shameless lust, but on one visit we found a pair of knickers draped over a rock. It wasn't solely our cave after all.

I eventually married, but my wife Ellie never got on well with Mother, which gave me a quite legitimate excuses to visit her alone once sometimes twice a week. Just over three years ago Ellie and I parted, and I wasted no time in moving back home. My homecoming was akin to the return of the prodigal son, and we celebrated by dining naked, afterwards adjourning to her room with a bottle of champagne.

Never had I found Mother so eager for my cock. "I'm going to give you the liveliest, most beautiful tome you've ever had," she grinned, grasping my hard as I slid between the sheets beside her. "I don't want my horny boy to leave me ever again."

True to her word she moved against me, drawing my hardness into her deliciously juicy pussy, and I took her with all the passion I had that first time when we'd gone sailing many years before. She sighed and moaned, encouraging me with all the naughty words she could think of her cunt caressing my hardness while I fondled her big breasts and sucked their plump nipples. I was home again, and vowed never more to stray.

"Oh, fucking hell!" she cried and clung to me when I shot a stream of hot come into her, the caresses of her matronly cunt milking me of the juices she loved so much. There was no woman in the world who could fuck like Mother, and I was content.

As the years passed there has been no lessening of her enthusiasm for my cock. Her hair has turned grey and her tits now sag a little, but the juicy cleft between her legs is still in excellent working order. She is now seventy-five and I'm fifty-two, we still live quietly and outwardly respectable in the little cottage. The neighbours have no idea of what we get up to behind closed doors.