Taboo: A Memoir Ch. 04-06

"Maybe we should leave them...as souvenirs," I suggested.

She kissed me again, lightly. "We don't need souvenirs. Now we can do it whenever we want. But not on the rug." She gave my damp cock an appreciative pat. "Well...maybe if we put a towel under us."

Chapter Five

Mom went on the pill, and we went on a royal sex binge. In addition to doing it a couple of times a day, we paraded around naked so much of the time that we had to turn up the heat in the apartment to eighty. Now we could satisfy our curiosity about all the things we'd caught glimpses of but didn't really know. I feasted my eyes on the swing of her breasts as she walked, nipples tracing loops in the air, proud to be her leading edge, her snatch winking at me from the curly crown of her legs, the slow sway of her hips, the regal lift and fall of her ass—all her parts working together with such fluid grace. She could ogle my dangle—her own creation and biggest fan—bobbing up and down, hairy balls rolling from side to side, peering up adoringly at her with the endearing homeliness of a droopy-eared, long-nosed basset hound.

We explored each other's forbidden secrets to our heart's content. Diana wanted to get caught up on everything she'd missed in my development. She used to know every bit of my body—she'd changed my diapers, bathed me, dressed me, but then gradually had to withdraw to avoid "indecency." For years we'd hidden our bodies and hearts from each other, but now we could share them again and be as indecently loving as we wanted.

"You know," she said with one of her last blushes, "I'd really like to take a close look at this thing you've got." She wore only a pearl choker and pearl studs in her ears. Her index finger pointed towards my middle. "Come over here."

Mom sat on the edge of her bed, elbows on her knees, breasts swinging free, and I stood in front of her so she could examine my penis. Her face reflected adoration and repulsion, appetite and apprehension, fascination and fear. As my member felt her gaze, it stirred pleasurably but was too satisfied to spring instantly erect. "The last time I really saw it, not just a glimpse, but really...when was that? It must have been that time you sat on a bee...you were about ten. It stung you right here." She patted my bottom. "Turn around and let me see if it left a scar."

I about-faced, and she ran her hands over my cheeks. Her touch revived the memory of the sting.

"No, it's all gone," she continued. "It was a mean red lump. You came in crying, pointing back there. I had to pull down your pants."

"I remember. I was so embarrassed."

"You were! You insisted on taking off your underpants yourself. It was all swollen and red. The stinger was still in, right about there"—she poked my bun—"and I had to pull it out with tweezers." She gave me a little pinch. "You didn't like that at all. But then I rubbed salve on it...that seemed to help. You stopped crying." She rubbed me, reminiscing, and my bottom tingled with excitement.

I stroked mom's head, which was bent over inspecting my butt. "That's 'cause you made it all better."

"But I couldn't help see this on the other side." She petted me in front. "I felt guilty but I wanted to see. It was growing, but it still had just this fine downy hair."

"It's growing right now." I turned to show her.

"So it is." She watched it rise to ninety degrees and point at her as if saying, You! I pick you! You're the one I want. She gave it a little kiss, just a peck on the tip, then took it in her hand. I quivered all over. "It didn't seem fair that I wasn't supposed to see it, let alone touch it. After all...we used to be quite close."

"It loves you to touch it." I was having trouble breathing, as if my air and blood were both flowing down there to expand it and make it stand.

She lifted it and inspected it more closely. "It's so...interesting...the long part, the round parts. It's not really pretty...but it's so strong...and...well, interesting. Now you've got kinky curls like mine. Let's compare." With her other hand she reached into her bush and—"Ouch!"—plucked out a pube, which she held up to mine. "See, they match. We're the same. But not quite." She tickled her fingers the length of my pole, and it stiffened more, craning up towards vertical.

"What about the hair under the arms?" she asked.

Right now I couldn't have cared less about that, but we looked at each other's arm pits and felt the fleecy hair, straight and finer than our pubes. "The same," she said with a smile. "You really are my other half."

I used to be bothered by the hair under her arms, wished she'd shave it. It embarrassed me, but I didn't know why. Now I realized it was because it reminded me she had a pussy, something I couldn't let myself think about. It was great now to be able to enjoy her four forests of hair, their different textures and aromas.

"Yours smell better than mine," I told her.

"Well, you're a man. That's the way it's supposed to be."

Proud that she called me a man, I asked her, "Am I your man?"

"Yes indeed, the best I've ever had." She kissed my belly button. "I can do things with you I'd never dare with anyone else. We're so close...and I trust you so much."

"What do you want to do with me?"

"Well...grab this." And she did, her hand encircling it firmly. "And play around with it." Curious, she moved it back and forth and side to side. "It's like a stick-shift on a sports car. BRrrmmm!"

"Just don't put it in reverse. We're going too fast."

Her hand daintily cupped my balls from beneath. "These...they're so strange." Her pixie face glanced up at me, concerned. "That doesn't hurt, does it?"

It felt so good that all I could do was gulp and shake my head.

She jostled them gently. "They're like eggs...big duck eggs. And inside they flow all around...like yolks. But now they're getting hard too. Amazing."

Responding to her caress, the skin contracted around them, and they tightened into two firm lumps at the base of the rod.

"Strange how they can change. In there"—she tapped one—"is where you make your seeds...you make seeds inside an egg, isn't that strange. I read that scientists think the whole universe is shaped like an egg. Maybe God laid it at the big bang...it's been growing ever since, getting ready to hatch."

I lifted her heavy, pendulous breast and rubbed the nipple against the rough skin of my scrotum, which prickled with the stimulation of this special part of her, and her nipple swelled. I had an egg in my throat, so it was hard to talk, but I managed to murmur, "Then God is a mother hen."

Diana squeezed what she was holding, sending waves of bliss through me. "I think She'd like that."

"I like what you do to me."

With her brown eyes teasing up at me, she darted her tongue around the head, and I groaned with delight. "When you were a baby," she said, "I was amazed how big it was. It seemed like half of you was cock. I thought I'd given birth to a mutation...but I found out that's normal. It's born bigger, but the rest grows faster."

"Is it big enough for you now?"

She drew back to look at it admiringly. "If it were any bigger, I'd need surgery. What I'd really like to do is see it come...spurt out or whatever it does. I don't know what that's like."

"I don't think you'll have to wait much longer."

"What do boys do? Jacking off? How do you do that? Teach me."

I was embarrassed. "Well, you kind of...move it up and down."

She tried to move the whole thing up and down but it was too full to go very far. "Like that?"

"No, move the skin on the sides. Slide it up and down."

Mom's fingers grasped the shaft delicately and began stroking the skin down, then back up.

"Harder," I told her. "Wrap your whole hand around it."

The pressure increased as she surrounded me. "Like that?"

"Yeah. But faster."

"That makes your balls bounce."

"Yeah."

"This vein in the middle...now it's standing out more."

"Yeah."

The fingers of her other hand traced the bulging channel. "Your sperm...it runs through here and out the tip...is that right?

"Yeah."

"Should I keep jiggling it like this, teacher?"

I was breathing so hard I could only nod.

Mom stared raptly at my cock. "The head is getting even bigger...and redder. Now it's wet at the tip. Is that your come?"

I shook my head and managed to say, "Not yet."

She moved her hand faster. "Your balls are so tight."

"Squeeze them."

Diana's other hand clutched them tenderly. "Like this, teacher?"

"Harder." She squeezed them firmly. "Oh yes!" Starbursts went off in my whole body as my balls and groin flexed in spasms and a thick stream of cream climbed higher and higher up my pole building in thrills until it spilled over the top and shot out in long gushes. The first one hit her on the forehead, the second on the cheek, two splats of viscid spunk. By the third she had her mouth on it, sucking it in. Mom's thick auburn hair fell around her face and tickled my thighs as she bent over my fountain.

I was petting her head and screaming. Her mouth went down as far as it could, drinking as it went, tightening around my throbbing stalk and sending shocks of ecstasy through me. The underside of her chin bulged full, and her eyes fluttered back, showing the whites under the irises. Her silken skin was moist with my lotion.

After I'd yielded up the last drops, she sat up smiling and licking her lips. "Like mother's milk."

"Fantastic!" I croaked, still dizzy with pleasure. "Drink it whenever you want."

She held my empty member, ringed with crimson lipstick, gently in her hand. "It was so great...feeling the whole thing throbbing and pounding like that...then to get hit in the face with all your power." She bent down to it. "Little Tommy," she whispered, kissing and stroking it, "you've come a long way since the last time I saw you. You've learned how to do it. You're really something!"

Pearly drops of come were running down mom's neck almost to her pearls. They looked good, so I licked them off but wasn't as enthused about the taste as she was. I preferred her juice to mine, and this made me want to suck her pussy. I wiped her face with the sheet (we changed sheets a lot), then put my hand on her thigh. "What can I do for you...down there?"

Diana rolled her eyes with anticipation. "I'm sure you'd come up with something wonderful, but...there're other kinds of food we need to eat too. The fridge is empty...I've got to go shopping. Hate to be a spoil sport." She glanced at the clock. "Yikes, I'll catch up with you tonight."

Chapter Six

That night, though, mom's face held a distracted, worried expression that I recognized as the old boogie man, guilt. Our last session was as kinky as we'd gotten, and that must've taken its toll. She said she had a headache and would rather sleep alone.

Next morning at breakfast she was a bit distant and her eyes avoided mine. Knowing I had to do something to bring her back, I scooted my chair next to hers, took her hand, and kissed her on the cheek. She kept her face turned away, a pained, sad expression clouding its beauty. I took it in my hands, turned it towards me, and kissed her on the mouth, at first gently, just brushing her lips, and then deeper, crushing them a bit. Diana returned the kiss in a reluctant, involuntary reflex that she seemed to regret but couldn't resist. As I stroked the back of her neck, her face crumbled and she began to cry. "What are we doing?" she asked with a sob. "This is crazy."

Oh no, here we go again, I thought. Gathering up my powers of persuasion, I told her, "It'd be crazy not to do it. It's so wonderful." I held my cheek next to mom's and patted her head, trying to soothe her like she'd soothed me so many times as a child.

She turned her face away. "No! Mothers and sons just don't do this."

"We do it. We need it."

Diana shook her head and closed her eyes. "We'll be punished. Something terrible will happen."

"That's just a myth. It doesn't have to be true...only if we make it true. We can do whatever we want. We love each other. That can't be bad." I brought her face back towards mine and kissed it more—her wet cheeks, the leaking corners of her eyes, her full, pouting lips. "Now can it?" As I encircled her firmly with my arms and drew her closer, she gave me a helpless, panicked look. I knew we were at a crisis—mom was hanging in the scales of fear vs. passion, and I needed to tilt her in the right direction and conquer her resistance once more.

I held the back of her head and kissed her mouth deeply; my tongue nudged hers, stroked it, tried to tease it into response. Finally hers licked back, at first hesitantly, but as I penetrated towards her throat hers grew wild, and they slid over and around each other like two lascivious sea creatures. My fingers delicately stroked her neck then moved down her yellow silk blouse, where they lost restraint, greedily rubbing and squeezing her soft mounded chest.

Diana clutched my hard flat chest the same way, but then broke our kiss. She sobbed and her body tensed as another wave of resistance swept over her. Through the silk I kneaded her nipples until she began to breathe slowly and deeply. All her tension seemed to flow into her nipples, making them firm and erect as the rest of her relaxed again. Vanquished, she bowed her head into the crook of my neck, and her other hand touched my thigh. We couldn't keep our hands off each other. It was an addiction.

I stood up, pulled her to her feet, and pressed myself against her. She gave a shudder that became a sigh. I stroked her round rear end through her skirt. I liked mom in skirts, liked to see her legs stirring the fabric as she walked, but the only time she wore them was when she had a trial or a meeting with a judge. This skirt was a loose velvet maxi—soft, smooth, and dark as her womb which I was yearning to re-enter. I pulled it up slowly, seeing her sleek ankles emerge into morning sunlight, then her curvy calves and luscious thighs. Her smooth bare legs were white sculpted columns tapering up from slim to squeezable. I stroked them, but I couldn't reach too far down because I didn't want to separate my chest from hers—I could feel our love flowing from heart to heart like the current in two magnets.

My fingers glided over the tops of her thighs, and mom shivered and pressed harder against me. I hitched the skirt into her belt so I could access her with both hands. Diana's legs trembled as I parted her thighs.

"I'll be late for work," she protested through her heavy breathing.

"I'll be quick." But I wasn't. This was our work and it was too good to rush. I jutted one leg between hers, then cupped my hands on her buns and rotated them slowly, stretching them open then bringing them together, all the while rubbing my leg against her front. As I parted her cheeks more and rubbed harder, mom moaned and swiveled her groin into my leg. I knew I had to take her in a way that would dominate her into submission so she wouldn't keep slipping back into inhibitions. She had to admit that she was mine and stop objecting. I pulled her underpants down and rubbed her neat little nates, massaging and spreading the cushiony hemispheres. They responded happily to my touch, the white soft skin tightening and getting goose bumps. "Oh...but we can't...." she mumbled. I didn't say anything—I knew talk could never conquer her. My fingers reached farther and delved through the moist opening at her midpoint, shielded by hair and legs but ever open. She had to accept that openness and that I was the one to fill it. I spread its lips and rubbed its inner walls and the fleshy button at the top. She mumbled again, but now it was just sound, no words.

I didn't want to risk a trek to the bedroom—she might grab her keys and briefcase and be out the door. I broke our embrace long enough to drop to my knees and pull her panties off. She lifted each foot for me, and I tossed them aside. The hem of the skirt slipped out of the belt and fell over me; it was like being inside a tent with just her lower half. The velvet blocked the light so I could see less, but held in her aroma so I could smell more. It was a scent that made me widen my nostrils and breathe deeper. I licked up her legs, getting more excited the closer I got, chafing her thighs with my teeth, then stuck my nose and tongue right into her nest. My lips sucked her lips and my nose poked her little button. Her body quivered, and she was so wet her juice ran down my face. I could hear mom's breath outside the tent like wind in the trees. I couldn't stay bent over on my knees any longer because my cock hurt too much in my pants, so I stood up.

Needing to have her right now, I tucked the skirt high into the belt again, exposing her backside, pale against the blue velvet. It looked so good that it inspired me with an idea. "Over here." I turned her facing the edge of the kitchen table, pushed aside our cups of tea and bowls of crunchy granola, then leaned her over the table.

"What's this?" Diana asked skeptically.

"Should be fun," I said, nestling up against her behind. She braced herself with her arms. I dropped my pants, and my member leaped out for her crotch. I rubbed it against her entire middle furrow, which was now awash with lubricant. I wanted urgently to be in there, so I tried to find the right spot, but it wasn't easy—I was confronted with a whole new set of angles than what I was used to.

"Hope you know what you're doing back there," mom said dubiously.

"Sure," I said with false confidence. Although we were about the same height, I discovered that to get up under her far enough to put it in, I needed to be taller. What to do? She wasn't going to stand here forever. "I'll be right back." Holding my pants up from my tennis shoes to keep from tripping, I hobbled as quickly as I could into the living room, snatched a suede cushion from the couch, and came back. I was worried that while I was gone her inner ambivalence would tip back towards No, so I was delighted to see her still leaning obediently over the table. "God, I love you," I said, and she raised her butt to me. I thought about sticking it into her sexy ass, wondered what that would be like, but decided I'd better not press my luck with her.

I parted Diana's cheeks so I could get closer to her pussy, placed my organ at the threshold of hers, and pushed the head in. "Ow!" she cried. "That hurts!"

I didn't want to hurt her, but I sure didn't want to take it out. "Maybe...farther over," I suggested. Grimacing, she bent more until she was propped on the table with her elbows. With a hand on each cheek I canted her rump higher, which let me slip in a little more.

"Oh!" said mom, but it wasn't a cry.

"How's that?" I asked.

"Better!" She moved her hips in a small circle, and I kept nudging farther in.

"Does it still hurt?"

"Just a little."

We swayed and wrestled together until I was fully inside her, flush against her rear. It was so wonderful—even if you come in through the back door, heaven is still heaven. As I began moving slowly in and out, she bent over even more and leaned her head on her arms. Her eyes were closed and she was panting through her mouth. Her face looked happy. "Oh, I think," she said, "you're fucking me again."

"You're right."

"Oh...help!" she called out. "My son is fucking me! My own son! And there's nothing I can do to stop him. He's got his cock all the way inside me. What a terrible thing!"

I did it to her a little harder. "Mommy, do you like my cock?"

"Yes!"

"Good...'cause you made it. It belongs in you." I reached forward and gripped her tatas through her blouse with both hands. "I like these so much." But I liked her pussy too, so I dropped one hand down there and fondled it from the front. There was so much to it, so many different folds and tucks and nodes. Exploring it could be a life's work. But for now I focused on this little part at the top that was standing out. Whenever I touched it, she moaned, so I touched it quite a lot, rubbing it and petting it. My stalk slid in and out of her from the other side, and my hips made a smacking sound each time they met her butt. With each of my thrusts her tongue stuck out, licking the air. Flexing her knees, she moved with me, and her breathing was like loud, slow laughter, "Ha...ha...ha...ha...." as if laughing away all the ridiculous rules that had kept us from this before.