Scent Of Another Woman

When I woke up the day after, having evicted myself from the Virgins Club at the age of 19 and having had one of those nights that I'll remember until the day I die, I found that while I was a new man, nothing had changed to everyone else. I had been through heaven, you may recall, but to my mom and my sister—especially to my sister— things were as they had always been.

I couldn't understand how something so wonderful, which left an incredible mark on my psyche, could have no effect on her. As I relived those moments of what I would call pure ecstasy, it seemed they meant nothing to her. I was perturbed. I didn't know if my first time had been so lackluster for her that it didn't warrant acknowledgment, not to mention a repeat performance. As I tried to keep the memory fresh in my mind of what had transpired, it got washed away with anguish over why she was so aloof about the whole thing.

Then there was the matter of my mother. After being chased by her with a broom, being cursed to kingdom come, and being yelled at like there was no tomorrow—for sniffing my sister's panties—I knew that THE TALK wasn't too far behind.

Yes, THE TALK; more like a lecture; really a heavy torture session. I had been through many of those in the past, as had my sister. In the past I had no choice but to sit through one of my mother's sessions where she told me how disappointed she was in me, or how I had failed to live up to any of her expectations, or even how she wished she hadn't given birth to me. This time, however, things were different. Well, actually, I was different. I was no longer a boy younger than 18 that she could scold at a whim. I was a man, closing in strongly on my 20th birthday. I had been turned into a man by a magical orifice, called pussy. I had been to the mountain top and back and I now possessed the wisdom that only comes from using one's other head. Oh, how I wished I could use that head again; enter that heavenly body of my sister; may be leave a part of myself behind; only to become a better man.

I didn't want the talk, that was for sure; just as sure as the fact that it was coming nevertheless. This time I wanted to have the choice to say no. I had enough of her talks and I was old enough not to have to listen to her. At the same time, she didn't know that I had leapt to manhood by going down on my sister, so she wasn't going to stop.

She found the opportunity a couple of Saturdays later when she found me sitting at the breakfast table, moping, only she didn't know I was moping. She only saw me with very serious expression on my face and took it to mean that I was receptive to her TALK.

She started in her usual way by saying: "Son, I want to talk to you."

I just looked at her without saying anything. I had that same seriousness in my eyes and she took it to mean that I was attentive.

She paused, cleared her throat, and before I could tell her where to go with her talk, she threw me a curveball: "Son, I want to apologize for my reaction the other day."

I was taken aback. This was my mother—the woman who used to slap me for something as simple as a short delay in responding to her commands—apologizing for something that she probably was justified in doing. I had this sudden urge to go outside and check to see if sun was rising from the West.

I was speechless. She took my silence to mean that I was still angry with her and asked me: "Are you upset with me?"

I had to think quickly. I was surprised as heck at her apology, but I realized that I had some sort of an upper hand in the whole matter and it would be a mistake to not use—or abuse—my advantage.

I answered, rather curtly: "Shouldn't I be?"

More surprise was waiting for me in her reply: "Yes, you should, I suppose. You have every right to be mad at me."

I just looked at her in silence. She clarified her statement: "I had a lengthy talk with your aunt and she told me that what you did was a normal thing and by getting upset the way I did, I probably did more damage than good."

I knew I always liked my aunt, but I didn't think she would take my side on this issue. Those of you who have read the first part of my story, know that I am talking about how my mother had over-reacted when I tried to find out what a pussy smells like by smelling my sister's wet panties, only to be caught red-handed by my mother, who then chased me around with a broom and cursed the daylights out of me as I ran to my room and locked myself in, where my sister came to my rescue and then later gave me her clean panties, which I told her didn't serve my purpose, which she then replaced with panties full of her juices, which I then smelled and tasted, only to find out that my sister was so excited by the fact that I had tasted her that she let me taste the real thing, which provided me the opportunity to be IN the real thing. (Whew, that was a mouthful.)

I sat there quietly. I really didn't know what to say.

She asked me: "Is it true, son? Did I do more damage than good?"

I thought about it for a while. I realized that my mother was feeling guilty. I knew that guilt is something she laid heavily on us in the past and now the tables had turned. She was feeling guilty because she may have stunted my sexual growth by her reaction. I had no choice but to exploit the situation.

"Yes, I think you may have? I feel afraid of my own feelings now."

"Oh, I am terribly sorry, son. That wasn't my intention."

I looked at her for a while, almost staring. I could see in her face that she was feeling sheepish. I decided to lay it down thick: "I know you didn't mean to, mom. I know you meant well. You tried to do what was right, only to learn that you were so wrong. But it is not your fault."

Then came what I was hoping for: "What can I do, son, to make it up to you?"

"I don't know what you can do, mom. I don't know what anyone can do." I thought of my sister and I knew that she could definitely do something, but somehow, she had forgotten all about what she had done in the first place.

"There must be something I can do, I mean, there must."

"But there isn't, so just leave it." I got up as I said that and went to my room. As I passed her by, I saw her head sunk low with what could only be remorse. I couldn't help but smile.

She came to my room that night. She again asked me if there was anything she could do to make up. I again replied—very coldly—that there was nothing she could do.

Sunday morning, the same setup, the breakfast table. She came down and stood in front of me. Her hands were behind her back, as if she was holding something for me. She moved her body in a semi-circular motion to sort of tease me and then blurted: "I finally figured out what I have to do to make up for my reaction."

I looked at her seriously, but inquisitively.

She held out her hand to me and I saw her panties dangling from it. She said: "Here, I give you these to make up for those."

I stared at her for a while, and then slowly and deliberately reached for them after almost an eternity.

I felt the fabric in my hand. I was starting to feel some tingle in my spine. I turned them inside out and sniffed where her pussy is supposed to be. She gasped when she saw me bury my nose into them. Just like my sister's first attempt, these were also very clean.

I gave them back to her. "No, thank you. These won't do."

That's when she lost it. "Then, what the hell will do. I am trying so hard to tell you that I am sorry I over-reacted when I caught you smelling your sister's underwear. I am trying so hard to undo the damage that you and my sister say I may have done to your growth. I am willing to do anything to show my regret and you just won't give me a chance. What the fuck do I need to do to make it right?"

"You can let me smell you." I saw the iron hot and struck it.

"Wha…What?" She looked at me in disbelief. "You want to smell me."

I nodded.

"You want to smell me. You want to smell my pussy, is that what you want?" She was still surprised—and still angry.

"Yes, that's what I want, mom. I was trying to smell a pussy when you caught me. If you are so willing to make up for your reaction, then let me smell your pussy, so I'll know what a pussy smells like and my curiosity will be satisfied."

She was very angry. She came towards me and held her cunt area right next to my nose. "Here, go ahead, smell my pussy. Smell, all you want."

Of course, she was fully clothed and there was nothing to smell. But, I had gotten the reaction I wanted.

"You know what, never mind." I yelled. "Never mind. I am okay. Don't worry."

"You know what you are? You are a son of a bitch, that's what you are."

"Well, I guess then you are just plain bitch, as you are my mother." I knew I had gone too far when I saw her stomp away.

That night she called me to her room. When I went there, I found her stretched on her bed in her robe. It was tied in front and one of her leg was showing through the flap. It was as if she was acting as a seductress. She told me to come close to the foot of the bed, which I did. She spread her legs a little and put her arms next to her body in a spread-eagle pose. I could tell from the glass on her night table that she had been drinking.

She said: "Go ahead, it's all yours."

I played dumb. "What is all mine?"

"You know, mine…is all yours. I prepared myself to let you smell me. Go ahead, satisfy your curiosity."

The tingle in my spine came back. I felt my cock stir in anticipation. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I am sure," she replied, "Go ahead." With that she closed her eyes tight and waited for my next move.

I looked at her lying there waiting for me to open her robe and smell her pussy. I was moved. My mother had changed. In the past, something like this would have never happened.

I grabbed the flaps of her robe in each hand and gently pulled them away from each other to reveal my birth canal to me. As more and more of her legs came bare, she squeezed her jaw, as well as her legs, tighter. I was almost sure she was afraid to let me see her down there.

I revealed her knees, then her thighs, and finally the juncture where her thighs came together. She had squeezed her legs so tight, it made it impossible for me to see anything more than the top of her pussy.

I grabbed her ankles and started to spread her legs apart. She put up a little resistance and then quickly gave in, almost like the Iraqi army. Her pussy slowly came into my full view. It was magnificent. In her case it wasn't a wheat grain, magnified a thousand fold; it was the pip of a date fruit, magnified a thousand fold; again Iraqi analogy.

Her robe was a problem though. I asked her to remove it. I had expected her to be wearing her top and be completely covered underneath the robe, but she wasn't. When she disrobed, I saw my mother in her full glory. There she was lying on the bed, spread-eagle for me, her pussy in the limelight, even though her breasts were stealing the show. I just took the view in. Her eyes were still tightly shut, as if she was trying to hide herself away from me by closing her eyes.

I waited.

After a long while she realized that nothing was happening, so she opened her eyes to see what I was doing. I was just standing there.

"What's the matter?" She asked.

"Nothing. It's just that it looks like you don't really want me to do it."

She surveyed herself and then relaxed once she realized what I was talking about. "Sorry," she said. "I am a bit nervous."

"Don't be," I said as I climbed onto the bed. I held her ankles again and moved her legs towards her until the back of her heels was touching her buttocks. I then put my hands on her knees and started pushing them back. As they moved closer to her chest, her feet came up off the bed and dangled in the air. I then put my hands on the back of her calved and pushed them up as far as I could. There she was with her knees almost touching her shoulders, her feet dangling around her ears, and her butt off the bed and reaching skyward. Her pussy was there in front of me, calling me, speaking to me, whispering my name. I noticed that my mother had thicker bush than my sister, but neatly trimmed.

I first took her one hand and then the other and placed them on the back of her knees so she could hold that pose for me. I took a pillow and put it under her butt to raise her middle a little higher. I then proceeded to remove my shirt and my shorts.

She asked: "What are you doing?"

"Just getting comfortable. The clothes are restricting my moves."

She looked at my boxers and saw my cock poking through the hole in front. There was a look of panic in her eyes as she realized that this pose was leaving her very vulnerable to my advances. She told me: "Just, don't get any ideas."

"What kind of ideas are you talking about?" I acted dumb, although by then, I was way beyond the idea stage.

As mesmerizing as her pussy was, I noticed that the strain on her legs was causing her anus to expand and contract ever so slightly. I found it fascinating as I lowered my face between her thighs to get a whiff of things. As my face came close to her genitals, she reacted to my breath falling on her pussy by jerking a little. I remembered that other monumental night, and as she expected my nose to come close to her cunt, I stuck my tongue out instead and firmly placed it right on that brown butt hole of hers.

She bucked in panic and a scream came from her throat. "What are you doing?" She asked with a lot of disbelief in her voice as her hand wiped my saliva off of her anus.

"I thought you'd like that," I said with disbelief of my own. Such effort was very fruitful that other night.

"It feels weird. Don't do it again."

"Sorry," I said as I took my position close to her cunt. She rubbed off the saliva a little more and once she felt dry, she moved her hand away.

I gently held her pussy lips on each side with the tips of my fingers and carefully exposed her hole. I then lowered my nose down to take a sniff. Again, as I reached down, I stuck my tongue out and put it right down there. She bucked, again. This time she almost gave me a nose bleed.

She jumped up and pushed me away. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"What, you never had your pussy licked before?"

"But, you are supposed to only SMELL it."

"Yes, but I want to smell AND taste. I am there; I might as well kill two birds with one stone."

"But, that is going too far."

"Yeah, so what? Aren't you enjoying it?"

"You know, what? I am done." She reached for her robe.

"Okay, okay, okay. I give up. Just let me satisfy one more curiosity and then I'll stop."

"And that would be?"

"I want to see what a woman looks like in doggy style. Once I see that, I'll be done."

She was hesitant. I pleaded: "You have done so much. A little more won't be a problem. Please. I have already seen you from the front; it makes no difference if I also see you from behind."

She thought about it for a while and then relented. "Okay, but be quick."

"I will. Now, please just take the pose and hold it. Don't try to rush me. I may never get this opportunity again."

She slowly turned on all fours and with her butt to my face, she looked over her shoulder and asked: "How is that?"

I observed her from behind. I basically saw two buttocks and two thighs. It wasn't enough.

I told her: "Not like that. Put your face into the pillow and spread your knees apart. I want to see it the way you would be if I was trying to mount you."

She mumbled, as she took the position: "This is too much."

Once her face was in the pillow, she couldn't see me any more. I quickly and quietly slipped out of my shorts. I put my hand in between her legs and made her spread them wide. I could see her pussy hole from behind. It was so very inviting. I told her: "I am going to touch you, so please don't panic."

I could hear her grumbling as I placed my left thumb upside down on her anus. She held her pose even though I noticed her straining under my touch.

I put my right hand on her buttock and asked her: "Can you please relax? I am almost done." As she became familiar with my hand on her ass, she actually did relax a little. I moved my left hand a little higher and held my palm firm on her lower back. I then grabbed my hard and throbbing cock with my right hand, aimed it at her pussy hole, pressed hard on her back to keep her body down and I charged her like a bull.

"Nooooooo!" She screamed as my dick made contact with her pussy.

I got up on my feet as the struggle started. I frantically felt around with my dick trying to get into the hole. She bucked up and down trying to keep me out. I kept her back pressed down as much as I could, but there wasn't enough force in my left arm to press against the force of her legs as she moved her middle up and stood on her feet. I got up with her and pushed her head down with my hands. She was lifting her pussy away from my cock as I tried to shove my dick into her. She went on her tiptoes and kept that cock away from her hole, even if only a few millimeters.

I pressed down on her shoulders with my hands as I pressed between her thighs with my pelvis. There I was, standing tall, trying to push my dick into my mother. There she was, dangling in the shape of an inverted V, trying to stay out of my cock's reach. I leaned on top of her trying to weigh her down, while at the same time, keeping my cock under her pussy to impale her as she came down. She flapped her arms around to grab something for support as she tried to balance herself on my thighs in such a way that she could stay standing at the same time.

She was trying to float in the air like a butterfly as I was trying to sting her like a bee.

She had to come down though, especially after I knocked her feet from under her. As soon as her body descended down, I descended on her. It didn't take too much effort for my cock to get into that hole as my long arms and my upper body kept her under my total control. She still gyrated her butt around and bucked here and there to get me out of her, but I was strong and firm, so I stayed in. She finally gave up and went back on all fours, only this time I was deep in her pussy.

I pushed her head down into the pillow, grabbed her hips with both of my hands, and started thrusting. She was screaming nonstop: "Stop, stop this, stop, stop this…" I responded with even more forceful thrusts. Soon, all her efforts to get me out stopped and she just let me fuck her.

I was fucking her hard. I was slamming into her so hard that my thighs were getting red because of constant collisions with the back of her legs. By the time I reached my peak, I was standing on my feet, her body having been elevated to a new high, her legs dangling in the air and her hands supporting her weight in almost a handstand. She was yelling something, but I was too busy to hear what she was saying. Finally, as I felt my balls tighten with the pressure generated by the buildup of my sperm to a frenzy, I held myself in position, buried to the hilt inside of her, and let it rip. As my sperm flew out of my tubes and down her vagina, making its way to her cervix, I finally heard what she was yelling: "Don't come inside of me."

"Too late," I said, as my body spasm-ed, sputtered, shuddered, and jerked a ton of cum inside of her.

I stood there for a long time, holding her behind against me as my dick spat last few drops out and started to soften. I waited for my breathing to become even and after quite a while, once my cock plopped out of her, I released her from my grip. She fell, lifeless, and I collapsed next to her.

Once she recovered, she started to hit me. "I am your mother, for God's sake," She yelled. "How could you come inside of me? How could your sperm be where you yourself once were?"