Mom's Secret - part 1
The sky was so gray with clouds that, when I woke up to the sound of my alarm buzzing at 7:00 AM, I barely realized it was morning. Groaning, I pulled my blankets closer to me, turned over, and tried to go back to sleep. No 18-year-old boy likes waking up for school at seven in the morning, but it’s even worse on December 21st, two days before Christmas vacation begins. I had no desire to greet such an ugly day, so I decided to sleep until Christmas. Wearing only boxer shorts, but warm beneath my blankets, I was content to sleep the miserable day away.
My mom, however, had other plans.
“Time to get up,” she said from the doorway. Flicking on the lights, I whined and covered my head with the blanket. “Come on,” she said, “two more days and you’re done.”
“School was cancelled,” I said, my voice muffled by several layers of covers.
“Oh really,” said my mom. The bed springs lowered slightly as she sat on the mattress next to me. I remained hidden.
“The news said there was a 99.999% chance of snow, so they just cancelled it,” I said, obviously lying. “You’d better let me sleep. Growing boys need their sleep.”
“Growing boys need to quit stalling and get out of bed,” said my mom, “because you know what’ll happen if you don’t . . .”
“What?” I asked.
“You’ll get tickled!” Before I knew it, my mom’s fingers were digging into my sides, hitting all my weak spots. I’d always been very ticklish and she, being my mother, knew all the right buttons to push. I was at her mercy, giggling so hard I could barely breathe.
“No more!” I croaked.
“Are you going to get out of bed and come have breakfast?” she asked, her fingers withdrawn but still ready to strike.
“Yeah, yeah,” I finally said.
“Good,” Mom replied. She gave me a swat on the butt and rose from the bed. She left my room and I could hear her walking down the stairs to the kitchen. I stretched, pulled back to the covers, and rolled out of bed to begin my day.
Fifteen minutes later, showered and dressed, I joined my mom in the kitchen. She was dressed for work as well, in a handsome red suit, white blouse, and black stockings. I guess now would be a good time to tell you about her. Her name is Christine, she’s 39 years old, and she raise d me by herself since I was a baby. My dad died of cancer before my first birthday, so I never knew him. Mom and I got along well, though. She had a successful career as a producer of a local news program, so we never wanted for money. I’m her only *****. She’s never really dated that I can remember although sometimes I wonder if she’s just waiting until I go to college.
Watching her cook my scrambled eggs (dry with pepper, just the way I like them) I had to admire her. She was tall for a woman, almost six feet, with very large breasts, and firm, muscular thighs and calves. She had a nice, round ass as well. Her body was sexy enough to match the beauty of her face: pink lips, blue eyes, perfect smile, sandy blonde hair. As I took all these things in, I felt a little guilty to be analyzing my mom in that way. But, as I reminded myself, I was just stating the obvious.
“I’m going over to Ann’s after school,” I told her. Ann was my girlfriend. She was a sophomore, like me, and we’d be dating for a few weeks.
“And how will you be getting home?” my mom asked.
“Ann’s brother said he’d give me a ride,” I told her.
“OK,” Mom replied.
With that matter resolved, my mom served me my eggs and toast, then poured herself a bowl of Special K to eat. I made a face at her, expressing my disapproval of the bland cereal and my mom laughed. We talked idly as we ate until it was time to leave.
Mom always dropped me off on her way to work. She pulled the car up to the curb, working her way through the crowd of high school students converging on the school like ants. I said goodbye and opened the door.
“Brendan?” she asked.
“Yes?”
“Forgetting something?”
I looked around for a moment, trying to remember what it was. Then I noticed my mom’s cheek turned towards me. I grinned, gave her a kiss on the cheek, and stepped out of the car. I shut the door and waved goodbye as she drove away.
-----
My day at school was uneventful. The days before a vacation always are. The students were restless and impatient. The teachers were powerless to do anything about it. I spent most of my time in class thinking about Ann and wondering what she had in store for us that afternoon. I knew for a fact that her parents were away and we’d have the place to ourselves until her brother got home from work at 6:00 PM.
Strangely, as I thought about Ann, my mom kept popping up in my thoughts. I thought of her body pressing against me that mourning as she’d tickled me. I could feel her breasts against me . . .
I pushed that thought from my mind and tried to focus on Ann. She was small and slender with a taut, lithe body. Her brown hair and eyes always made my cock stir as she’d toss her head and her eyes would shine with mischief. I was definitely looking forward to seeing her.
Hours later, the time finally came. Ann and I went to her house on the bus and she immediately led me into her bedroom. She asked me to strip down to my boxer shorts, which I did, and sit down on the bed. She smiled at me and disappeared into her bathroom, shutting the door behind her.
“Ready?” I heard her call out a minute later.
“Ready,” I said.
The door slowly opened and Ann emerged. She was dressed only in a white, nearly transparent babydoll which clearly revealed the dark circles of her nipples. She also wore a tiny pair of g-string panties. She turned in a circle, letting me see her ass with only a tiny strip of cloth wedged in her crack. She was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.
It was odd, however, that instead of feeling overwhelmed with desire as I would have expected to be, I felt a tight ball of anxiety form in my stomach. It only grew as Ann moved closer. When she sat down on the bed and began to stroke my thigh, I was paralyzed.
“M-maybe we shouldn’t do this,” I stammered.
“Why not?” she asked.
“What if your brother comes home early?” I asked.
“He won’t,” she said.
“We should wait until we’re sure we have privacy,” I suggested. “Don’t you think?”
“No,” was her reply.
Her hand slid up my thigh and came to rest right on my cock. There was only a thin layer of cotton separating us. She began to rub, trying to get a reaction out of me. I began to sweat, but my dick wouldn’t harden one bit. I desperately wanted to be out of there. Her eyes suddenly became angry, as if she’d taken my inability to get it up as a personal insult.
“What’s the matter?” she asked.
“I’m just nervous?” I said.
“Why are you nervous?” she demanded. “Don’t you feel comfortable with me? Don’t you want me?”
“I do,” I said, “I just don’t . . .”
“Fine,” she said, standing up quickly. She grabbed a bathrobe off a hook and quickly wrapped it around herself, covering up.
“Ann . . .” I said.
“Leave,” she ordered.
“How am I gonna get home?” I asked.
“I don’t care,” she said. “You’ve humiliated me. You can walk home. I don’t give a shit.”
There was nothing I could say or do. Under Ann’s glaring watch, I dressed, grabbed my coat, and left. It was 3:00 PM. It would take me an hour or more to walk home. A cold wind blew and I buttoned up my coat to my chin. Sighing deeply, I began to walk.
-----
Around 4:00 PM, I reached my house. I’d had an hour to think about what’d happened between Ann and me, but my mind was still wracked with confusion and doubt. I had been attracted to her, but I hadn’t been sexually aroused by her touch. In fact, it was almost the opposite. I asked myself a thousand questions but the one which popped up most was: am I gay? Could that explain why she couldn’t seduce me? I didn’t think about men in a sexual way, but now I began to wonder.
As I walked down my driveway, I saw my mom’s car parked in the garage. Apparently, she’d come home early. I walked into the garage and through the door into the house. I could heard the sound of the washing machine and the dryer running downstairs in the basement laundry room, as well as the sound of my mom moving around. I walked down the carpeted stairs until I had reached the basement floor. I looked across the room to where Mom was standing.
My insides froze as I saw her. Mom was standing, with her back to me, wearing nothing but a red bra. My eyes followed the graceful arch of her back to her big, firm ass, down to her strong thighs. She didn’t move. Apparently, she couldn’t hear me over the sound of the machines. I knew I should retreat up the stairs, as silently as I had come, but I was transfixed on my mother’s nude body.
Suddenly, as if sensing something behind her, my mom whirled around to face me. She had the same deer in headlights look I knew must have been on my face. My eyes focused immediately on her huge breasts, barely contained by the bra. They had to be at least double D’s. My eyes flicked down to her crotch and I got the biggest shock of my entire life.
Nestled comfortably between my mother’s thighs was an eight-inch, limp penis, hanging over an equally enormous pair of testicles, all capped by a bush of golden-brown pubic hair.
Finally able to move, my mom grabbed a towel to cover herself. When her *******is broke, so did mine. I immediately turned and bolted up the stairs. I ran into the living room but I didn’t know what to do. I had just seen my mother naked and she was a man! Should I leave? Should I stay? I didn’t know. I ran up the stairs into my room and sat down on my bed. I was so confused I could barely think. So I sat and waited.
A few minutes later, I heard an almost imperceptibly soft knock on the door.
“Brendan?” my mom whispered. “Honey, are you OK?”
“Yeah,” I said weakly.
“May I come in?” she asked.
“I guess,” I replied, not sure if I should.
The door opened slowly and my mom stepped in, wearing a pair of gray sweats and a Boston University t-shirt. Her face was bright red and she looked as if she were about to cry. She was ringing her hands together nervously as if not sure what to say. I didn’t know what to say either, but I was afraid to speak.
“I spilled soup on my clothes,” she told me. “I went down and threw them in the wash since I was doing a load anyway. I didn’t think you’d be home so early.”
“It’s not your fault, sweetie,” she said. “May I sit down?” I shrugged. My mom sat down on the bed next to me and I scooted over to make room for her. “What are you thinking about?” she asked me.
“You have . . .” I began, but couldn’t finish.
“Brendan,” she said, taking a deep breath, “I am a transsexual.”
The word hung in the air. I had heard it before, but never had a real concept of what it meant. I thought of the movie “The Birdcage” and men performing, dressed up like women. But these people still looked like men. My mother had the face and figure of a beautiful, feminine woman.
“Do you know what that is?” she asked. I shook my head, not able to meet her eye. My arms were folded across my chest and my chin was almost touching my elbows. “A transsexual is a man or a woman who lives as a member of the opposite sex. He or she still has the same sex organs, unless that’s changed by surgery, but most don’t do that. For the most part, someone like me, a person born as a man who becomes a woman, tries to be as womanly as possible. That’s how I’ve lived my life.”
“But why?” I asked.
“When I was a young gi- . . .” she paused. “ . . . a young boy, I knew I was different. People said I was a boy, but I knew they were wrong. I knew I was really a girl. After high school, I decided to end the charade. I went into counseling, took hormones, had some minor cosmetic surgery. I changed my name and, when I entered college after a year off, Christopher Murray was gone and Christine Murray remained.”
“But what about Dad?” I asked. “It’s obvious you didn’t give birth to me. So who did? And how does Dad fit into all this?”
“Well,” she said, “you know your father and I met in college. I was the co-chair of the Boston University Queer Alliance. Gay groups were still relatively new back then. He joined because he was questioning his sexuality. I knew there was something special about him so I told him my secret. To my surprise, he wasn’t disgusted or afraid. He thought it was kinda sexy. So we started dating and then we were married after graduation.”
“Two years before I was born,” I said. I knew this part of the story although Mom had always just said they’d met in college.
“We’d lived together for a year before we decided to have ********,” she continued. “Obviously, I couldn’t become pregnant. I wish I could have. I wanted so badly to carry you and feel you growing inside me. But such is life.”
“So who did give birth to me?” I asked.
“Your Aunt Natalie,” was her surprising answer. I was stunned. Natalie was not my real aunt, I knew, just my mother’s oldest friend. I had no knowledge of this, however. “We considered adoption, but we wanted our baby to be part of us, so we asked Natalie to be the surrogate mother and she agreed. Her only request was that she remain a part of the baby’s life, which she has.”
“So who donated?” I asked, unable to use the word sperm in front of my mother.
“I did,” she said. “We expected to have another ***** at some point and figured we’d donate the next time around.”
“Then he got cancer,” I said.
“Right,” my mom replied, lowering her head. “Your father loved me very much, but he loved you more than anything in the world. He always thought of you as his son and me as your mother. He died happy because of you.”
My mother’s voice was a harsh whisper, choked with tears. Seeing her, on the verge of open weeping, I forgot my confusion and opened my arms to her. She hugged me tightly, crying into my shoulder. I held her, stroking her head, beginning to cry as well.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I wish I could have been a real mother to you.”
I pulled away and looked her in the eye. I didn’t see a transsexual or a sperm donor. I saw the woman who kissed me goodnight, who made my lunches, who had always shown me nothing but love and kindness my entire life.
“You are my mother,” I said, “and I love you.”
“I love you too, honey,” she said, and held me once again.
-----
By the time I went to bed, things had more or less returned to normal. My mother had been born a man, with the package to prove it. But she was my mother and I didn’t care about that. She and I were a team and that wouldn’t change now. As my mom kissed me goodnight, my mind was on Ann. My mom said goodnight and left the room, flicking off the lights. Alone in the dark with only my thoughts, I recalled what had transpired.
Suddenly, I had a small epiphany. If I was concerned that I might be gay, I should talk to someone who had been through the same experience. And I had just such a person under the same roof! Surely my mom had dealt with these same feelings at some point. It would be awkward talking to her about this sort of thing but nowhere near as awkward as it had been for her to talk to me about her life.
Finally, I threw back the covers and climbed out of bed. Dressed in my t-shirt and boxer shorts, I crept out of my room and down the hall to my mom’s room. Her light was still on, so I knocked.
“Mom?” I called.
“Just a sec!” she called back. I heard shuffling in the room, then she said, “Come in.”
I walked into the room, ringing my hands together as I shuffled towards her. She was in bed, with her blankets pulled up to her stomach. She wore a white, flannel nightgown embroidered with pink and purple flowers. She was sitting up as if she’d been watching TV but nothing was on the screen.
“Hi,” I said.
“What’s up?” she asked. I moved closer.
“I need to talk to you about something?” I said.
“Sure, kiddo,” she said, patting the spot on the bed next to her. “What’s on your mind?”
“Well,” I said, sitting beside her, “I was over at Ann’s today and . . . I feel weird talking about this . . . but we started to get kind of physical.” Mom raised her eyebrows. “But, I didn’t feel anything. Anything except nervous, anyway. I think . . . I think I might be gay.”
My mom thought about it for a moment, then responded.
“I know how that feels,” she said. “I had been attracted to other boys as long as I could remember but, when I was about your age, I started looking at other girls differently.”
“Really?” I asked, surprised.
“Yeah,” she said. “The important thing to remember is that sexuality is a very broad thing. Just because you feel sexually attracted to one man or you have sex with one, it doesn’t mean you’re gay. Or, if you aren’t turned on by one particular woman, that doesn’t mean you’re gay either.”
“So how do I know?” I asked.
“You just need to experiment until you find what you like,” she said.
“Oh,” I said, a little disappointed. My mom looked at me and smiled. I smiled back weakly. I was hoping Mom would have some more answers. Shrugging, I figured I could try looking at some gay porn and see if I liked it. It was worth a shot.
“Wait, I have an idea,” my mom finally said. I looked over at her, sitting on the bed beside me in her nightgown. “I have a video you could watch.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“An . . . adult video,” she said, blushing. My mom had porn! I was stunned for the millionth time today. “Want to watch it? I’ll turn it off if you don’t like it.”
“Alright,” I said nervously. I had trouble comprehending the idea of watching gay porn with my mom. Of course, I had managed to comprehend the idea of my mom having a penis, so I supposed I could handle anything.
My mom reached for the DVD remote on the night table to the right of the bed. She pointed it at the television, pressed a button, and the television turned on. She pressed another button and a DVD began to play, beginning with a title screen which read: “Twink Farmboys #3”. She fast-forwarded through the credits to the first scene, which opened with a picturesque scene of a country farm, then cut to the inside of a barn.
There was a brown-haired, teenage boy with blue eyes wearing nothing but jeans and a cowboy hat, moving some wooden crates. I found myself admiring his flat stomach and muscular arms and wondering wha the would look like naked. Just then, another teenage boy who had blonde hair and was wearing overalls, stepped into the frame. He walked over to the first boy and they greeted one another.
“My pa is out fo rthe day,” said the blonde.
“I’m just about finished anyway,” said the brunette.
“You look like you could use a drink,” the blonde remarked. “Or maybe a blowjob.”
The brunette, apparently caught unaware by this proposal, backed away but found only a wall behind him. The blonde moved in, pressing his hands against the brunette’s firm chest and kissing his neck. His fingers moved down to the brunette’s jeans and he unbuttoned the fly as the brunette gave into his urges. Once the jeans were open, the blonde pulled out his friend’s seven-inch, hard, uncircumcised cock and began to suck eagerly.
Meanwhile, my own dick was rock hard. I was so caught up in the video that I didn’t notice the tent I’d pitched in my boxers. My mom, however, did notice. She looked over at me, smiled, then looked down at my crotch. I blushed madly.
“You like it?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “Those guys are cute.”
“Why don’t you get under the covers?” she suggested. “Get warm.”
“OK,” I replied.
Mom pulled down the blankets past her knees, making room for me to swing my legs under the covers. Looking over at her, I suddenly noticed that I wasn’t the only one who had pitched a tent. There was an unmistakable rise in the fabric of her nightgown which pulled the hem of the garment tantalizingly close to the place where her legs met. I looked at her and smiled, still blushing. She smiled back.
“Come here,” she said.
Once we were both under the blankets, she extended her left arm, putting her hand on the back of my neck, gently pulling me closer. Soon, her arm was around me and I rested my head in the hollow of her shoulder with my face towards the screen. We had sat like this on countless nights when I was a ***** and, unable to sleep, I had climbed into her bed to watch late night TV before falling asleep almost instantly in her arms. It was the kind of sleep a person could know only in his mother’s arms, surrounded and protected by her love.
“Comfy, sweetie?” she asked.
“Very,” I said, listening to the sound of her heart beating.
“Do you mind if I get a little more comfortable?” she asked hesitantly. At first, I didn’t understand. Then realization dawned on me.
“No,” I said quietly, “I don’t mind.”
“I won’t if it bothers you,” she said. “You just looked like you were enjoying the movie and I think movies like this are better without . . . you know.”
“Do you mind if I do it too?” I asked, still nervous.
“Not at all, sweetie,” she answered.
My mom tugged the material of her nightgown up until the hem was below her breasts. She sat forward and I moved away to give her room. She grabbed the hem and pulled the entire garment off, then dropped it to the floor beside her. She reclined again, adjusting the blankets at her waist. I stared openly at her breasts. They were even more spectacular up close than they had been at a distance – round globes with large, pink nipples in the center, perfectly shaped and symmetrical. My mom saw me staring but didn’t seem to mind.
“Your turn,” she said softly.
Taking a deep breath and letting it out shakily, I pulled my head into my shirt, then worked it off quickly. I dropped it on the floor. Then I reached down under the blankets with both hands and wiggled out of my boxer shorts. I dropped them with my shirt. My mom smiled at me, then pulled me close again. I rested my head just above her left breast and continued to watch the movie. Her heart was pounding. So was mine.
It’s hard to describe what I was feeling. I was in bed, naked, watching a gay porno movie with my mother, who had a bigger erection than I did. A distant voice told me to stop (my “superego”, I supposed) the little angel on our shoulder, not sent by God, but by an unforgiving, narrow-minded society.
I can only compare it to the feeling you get right before falling asleep. You’re warm, you’re safe, and the worries of the world are washed away by the comforting darkness. You’re powerless to stop it, but that doesn’t matter anymore.
“I love you,” my mom said softly to me. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”
“I love you too, Mom,” I said, “but I do want to do this.”
“OK, baby,” she said, giving me a half-hug which I returned warmly. “Just relax and breathe.”
-----
As my mom held me against her naked body, both of us throbbing with a desire expressed only by occasional twitches under the blankets, the video continued to play.
The brunette teenager’s blowjob was gone and now it was time for him to give as he had received. The blonde unhooked the straps of his overalls and the brunette went to work, kissing his chest. He knelt down before his friend and pulled the clothing off. The boy’s cock sprang out. The brunette took the thick organ in his hand and began to stroke it.
The blonde boy took a step back and sat down on a bale of hay which was conveniently covered by a wool blanket. The camera moved closer. The brunette opened his lips and took his friend’s purpose head into his mouth, wetting it before pulling back. The tip glistened with saliva. The brunette licked the tip and a clear string of precum hung between his tongue and the hole. A moment later, the brunette began to suck in earnest.
“Do you still want to watch it, honey?” my mom asked me, barely whispering.
“Yeah,” I said.
“You can play with yourself if you want,” she said, even more softly.
“OK,” I replied. “You can too.”
“Would you mind that?” she asked.
“No,” I whispered. “I want you to.”
We looked deeply into one another’s eyes, each hesitant to move or speak. The moment was so fragile that both of us were afraid to disturb the delicate balance. I didn’t know what to think, so I didn’t try to. I let my body and my heart guide me. Both told me not to lose my nerve now, that I was on the brink of something special, and that I should give in to my longings.
My right hand was under my hip as I leaned on my side, against my mom’s body. My left hand, however, was free. I slid it slowly down my stomach until I felt my cock, rock-hard in my hand. Never breaking my eyes away from Mom’s, I slowly began to stroke my dick, the blanket rising and falling with a soft rustle at every successive pump.
Mom kept her eyes locked on me as well. her hand, hidden beneath the blankets, seized her enormous organ and she began to masturbate as well. My mind swam. My mother and I were jacking off together and it didn’t feel weird at all. It was different, of course, but I felt perfectly natural and at ease with her. In fact, I felt closer to her than I ever had before.
We masturbated slowly and rhythmically, synchronizing our movements, neither of us wanting to ejaculate yet. This was about so much more than getting off. This was about showing our love and trust. Occasionally, our hands would bump together. We’d apologize and laugh but, other than that, the silence was unbroken. Both of us realized the implications of what we were doing but somehow it didn’t seem to matter.
“Mom . . .” I whispered.
“What?” she replied.
“Can we turn the video off?” I asked.
“Why?” she asked, a worried expression flashing across her beautiful face. “I thought you liked it.”
“I do,” I said, “but I want this to be about us. Besides, I think the mood is already set.” She smiled at me, then nodded slowly.
I leaned over her and took the remote off the night table. I pointed it at the television, turning it off with a click of a button. Then I pulled the cord on the lamp, shutting off the light. After a moment, our eyes readjusted. The lights from outside allowed us to see, but the darkness added the atmosphere we needed for our secret encounter. Outside the snow was falling, making the night even more enchanting.
That’s when I noticed the position I was in. I was leaning over my mother’s bare breasts with my face inches from hers. Also, with the shifting I’d done, the blanket had slid down my body. My naked, erect penis was hanging down, the tip almost touching Mom’s hip. her eyes were fixed on it. Then she looked me in the eye and smiled.
“Big boy . . .” she said and I blushed.
“Thanks,” I said, not sure what else to say.
“You’re beautiful,” she told me.
“So are you,” I replied.
“Come here, my big boy . . .”
My mother opened her slender, white arms and I swiftly submitted to her embrace. We lay on our sides, facing one another, our faces inches apart. I could feel her delicate hands on the small of my back, caressing my skin. My arms were likewise on the soft flesh of her back and I could feel her warm, yielding breasts against my chest.
“Do you love me?” she asked.
“I love you, Mom,” I assured her.
“I love you too, baby,” she said. “I love you with all my heart, all my soul, and now with my body too.”
She closed her eyes and leaned in. I did the same. The moment seemed to draw out, longer than an eternity, but finally our lips brushed together. We each leaned in another half inch until our lips pressed together. Her mouth tasted sweet. Her lips were soft and the pressure of them against mine was heavenly. I felt myself becoming lost in the perfect intimacy of it. My mother had kissed me a thousand times in my life but never like this.
Her breasts, burning hot with desire, pressed against my chest as she inhaled, sucking the air from my mouth. Then she exhaled and her hot, minty breath filled my mouth. My entire body shuddered with delight. Finally, we broke the kiss reluctantly, slowly pulling our lips apart. with my eyes still closed, I could feel the residual tingle of her lips against mine. I inhaled deeply, letting her fragrance fill my mouth and nose, then I licked my lips. I opened my eyes to find my mom smiling at me.
“You’re an amazing kisser,” she said.
I smiled and said only one word in response: “More.”
We again rushed into one another’s arms. While our first kiss had been gentle, an experimental exploration, this kiss was an expression of all our passion for one another. The tingling I felt in my lips spread to the tips of my toes. My dick became as hard as steel and the room was filled with the sounds of sucking, breathing, moaning, and wordless whispering in the dark.
Mom’s lips parted slowly and I could feel her wet tongue slide into my mouth, probing cautiously. With our lips locked together, I allowed my tongue to slip into her mouth as well. Our tongues, slippery with saliva, danced together. Unable to control myself, I took her face in my hands and began to suck on her tongue before eventually withdrawing for a moment. Then the kissing began anew.
I don’t know how much time passed. It seemed to slip away, to sink into a warm pool of bliss. I ceased to think. Everything was sensation. Finally, I was woken, as if from a dream, as my mom broke our kiss. She looked into my eyes, licked her upper lip, then coyly wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
“Can I tell you something?” she asked me, with a strange nervousness in her voice.
“Of course,” I said, twirling some of her sandy blonde hair between my fingers as I rubbed my other hand across her flat stomach.
“Don’t be mad or grossed out,” she said.
“I promise,” I said, laughing slightly.
“Well,” she said, “when you were a baby, I used to let you suck my nipples, even though I couldn’t lactate. It wasn’t meant to be a sexual thing. I just wanted to feel that connection that a real mother feels.” She looked down, embarrassed. I laid my hand against her cheek and she kissed my palm.
“You are my real mother,” I said, “and you deserve to feel that.”
“Thank you, Brendan,” she said, her eyes glistening.
“Did it feel good?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said, “even if it wasn’t natural.”
“But did it feel good?” I asked, smiling. My mom thought about it for a moment, then suddenly caught my meaning. She smiled and nodded her head.
“OK, then,” I said.
I pulled away from her and slid a bit farther down until her breasts were directly in front of my face. The pink areola were several inches in diameter with big nipples in the center of each. Mom had implants, but you could never tell. As I lay there, admiring them, my mom mistook my moment of appreciation as hesitation.
“You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to,” she said. She tried to sound comforting, but I could heard disappointment as well.
I didn’t answer. Instead, I placed a kiss in between her breasts, feeling the smooth skin of each breast against either cheek. Then I moved over to her left breast. I held it in one hand, feeling the great weight and size of it. I kissed it, moving closer to her nipple with each brush of my wet lips against the gorgeous flesh.
At last, I came to her nipple. I opened my mouth wide, then pressed my lips against it, taking as much of her tit into my mouth as I could. I flicked the tip of my tongue against the large nipple, then closed my lips around it. I squeezed it tightly between my top and bottom lip, then let my tongue trace a ring around it. I began to suck harder, as if I were a greedy baby eager for milk.
Mom, meanwhile, was in a state of rapture. Her head was back and she was cooing softly. Her fingers were digging into my back of my scalp as she pushed my face against her, as if I needed any encouragement to keep sucking her! As I sucked her, my hands explored her body. My left hand came to rest on her firm butt. I began to gently knead the flesh, which seemed to turn her on even more.
I switched to her right breast once her squeals, moans, and grunts indicated that perhaps the other had become too sensitive to continue playing with for the time being. I gave the other nipple the same treatment and met with the same response. I continued to rub my other hand over Mom’s ass, even letting my fingers brush the crack.
“Blow on them,” Mom whispered.
I did as my mother told me. I blew on her right nipple first and then the left. I saw the nipples stiffen and the areola become prickly with goose bumps. Mom shuddered with delight. Sensing that her nipples had endured all they could, I slip up the mattress until we were face-to-face again.
“I have an idea,” Mom said, kissing me.
“What?” I asked, kissing her back.
“Why don’t we lose the blankets?” she asked, smiling impishly. “It’s warm enough in here. And I wanna see you.”
“Good idea,” I said, kissing her between each word.
“Let’s lay on our backs, side-by-side,” she said. “I’ll pull the comforter over myself and you pull the sheets over yourself. Then we rip them off at the same time.”
“Cool,” I said.
We moved apart until we were both on our backs. Mom pulled the comforter on top of herself. I did the same with the sheets. We both sat up slightly, looking down at one another’s bodies, waiting for the big moment. She looked over at me and smiled. I smiled back.
“Ready?” I asked.
“On the count of three,” she said. “One . . . two . . . three!”
We both flung our respective covers aside, letting them fall to the floor. Mom and I were naked, together in bed, with nothing covering us. My eyes widened as they took in her huge dick and her enormous balls. Before, she had been doing laundry and caught by surprise. Now, she was fully erect, her shaft jutting ten inches nearly straight up. Her thighs were solid, firm, and muscular. Her scrotum lay between them, like two eggs in a nest. My eyes followed the length of her shapely legs, then back up to her breasts.
“God, Mom, you’re so hot!” I cried out. Mom burst out laughing.
“Why thank you, Brendan!” she replied, beaming.
We both began giggling, both at the absurdity of what we were doing and at the absurdity of waiting so long to do it.
“Stand up,” I said, once we had stopped laughing.
Now we were both on our sides, leaning on our elbows, trying to look one another in the eye while stealing obvious peeks at the other’s package.
“Why?” she asked.
“I want to see you walk,” I told her.
“You’ve seen me walk,” she said.
“Not naked!” I excaimed.
Mom laughed, then rolled off the bed, giving me the most fleeting glimpse of her asshole as she did. She walked to the far side of the room, her big, tight butt wiggling as her hips swayed. Then she turned around to face me like a model on the cat walk. She walked towards the bed. Her cock, hanging down halfway to her knees, swung back and forth as she moved. Then she climbed back on the bed, crawled towards me on all fours, and gave me a kiss.
“Do you like Mommy’s dick?” she asked.
“Very much,” I said. “Do you like mine?”
She looked down at my dick, six inches semi-erect, twitching excitedly against my leg. She began to run her fingernails against my thighs, causing my penis to immediately spring to full erection.
“He looks like he wants to be played with,” Mom said.
“So does she,” I said, nodding towards her crotch. “What did you have in mind?”
“Spread your legs,” she said.
I spread them wide. At first, I felt nervous, leaving myself so vulnerable. But that was just an instinctual reaction. I had complete trust in my mother. She likewise spread her legs and scooted towards me until her legs were over mine and our nutsacks pressed together. It was a feeling too wondrous and sublime to describe and I sighed deeply.
With tender care, my mom placed her hand at the base of my shaft. her slender fingers wrapped around it and she began to jerk me off. I took the hint and gripped her cock in my hand as well. By this point, I had grown comfortable with the sight of it, but the feeling of it in my hand was a whole new sensation. It was so big that I had trouble getting my fingers around it. I felt the blood pumping through it, keeping it hard for me.
Mom and I stroked one another’s cocks while our other hands explored. I caressed her breasts and her sexy thighs. She cupped my balls, rolling them in her hand. We kissed intermittently, whispering words of love into one another’s ears.
“Baby,” she said, “I want you to cum for me. Can you do that for me, sweetie?”
“Yeah,” I said, between harsh breaths. “Do it a little harder.” She did. “Perfect,” I told her.
She pulled my hand off her cock and pressed her shaft against mine. She held them together in her hand and began to stroke us together. The friction of the soft underside of her dick was glorious and I felt myself swiftly approaching orgasm.
“Are you going to?” I asked breathlessly. I was sweating now.
“Yes,” she said in a whisper. “Let’s do it together.”
“OK,” I agreed.
She continued to jack us off and her pace quickened. The body heat was swearing and we were both perspiring profusely. Mom’s ass was bouncing on the mattress. I had my hands on her shoulders, bracing myself. Both of our cocks were swollen and red.
“I’m going to . . .” I said.
“Hold it in just one more second, hun,” she said.
She squeezed her fist tighter around our cocks as her arm pumped up and down like an engine piston. I concentrated all my will on not ejaculating, waiting for her, so that we could fully share in the moment. I leaned in against my mom’s bare shoulder, closing my eyes and burying my face in the soft skin. I felt like crying. The pain of waiting was so intense that I was nearly overwhelmed by it. Finally, Mom gave me the word.
“OK,” she breathed in a ragged whisper. “Do it.”
At once, a translucent white stream of semen erupted from my cock, arching towards my mom’s chest and splattering on her naked breasts. I let out a fierce cry of ******* as the pressure was relieved. Mom, meanwhile, had jettisoned her own load of sperm which spurted straight up and then splashed down between us, covering our sweaty dicks with a slippery layer of sticky cum. My mom did not relent. She milked us both for every drop we were worth until both of us were literally covered with jizz. Exhausted, I fell back on the bed. My mom fell beside me. The hot darkness was filled with our heated panting.
After we’d recovered from our ordeal, my mom told me she was going to get cleaned up. She rose from the bed and walked into her bathroom, shutting the door behind her. I waited until I heard the sound of running water and then climbed out of bed as well. I walked over to the bathroom door and knocked gently.
“Mom?” I said.
“You should get washed up and go to bed, Brendan,” she said. “We can talk about this in the morning.” I could tell from the tone of her voice that something was wrong.
I tested the knob and found it unlocked. I pushed the door open and stepped into the bathroom to find my mom, wrapped in a towel, sitting on the toilet seat lid. She looked as if she’d been crying. I felt a little straight being naked while she was covered by the towel, but I sat down on the edge of the Jacuzzi anyway.
“I think we should talk now,” I said.
“I’m so sorry, Brendan,” she said softly, looking at the floor.
“For what?” I asked.
“We shouldn’t have done that,” she said. “I’m your mother. It was wrong of me and I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” I said.
“I know how it is for boys your age,” she said. “When you’re 18, you’re so full of hormones that you’ll do anything to get off. I took advantage of you.”
I knelt down on the floor in front of her and placed my hands on her knee. I kissed it gently.
“You didn’t make me do any thing I didn’t want to,” I said. “I’m glad we did it. “
“Are you sure?” she asked nervously.
“Of course,” I told her. “That was the most beautiful, emotional, spiritual experience of my life. I just wish we could do more.”
“Really?” she asked.
“Absolutely.”
“I’m so glad you said that, Brendan.”
“Come on,” I told her, standing up, and giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Let’s clean up.”
She remained sitting while I turned the knobs on the Jacuzzi and water began to fill the basin. She rose up and slowly peeled the towel away, revealing her gorgeous body to me again. Even though I’d seen it already, it was still breathtaking. She was the perfect combination of feminine beauty and masculine sexuality.
When the water was full, we both climbed in. We cleaned off one another’s bodies with soap, then washed each other’s hair. I loved sitting with my back to her, between her legs, feeling her fingers through my soapy hair and the head of her cock poking against my back.
“We should get something straight,” she said, after we’d cleaned up, and were enjoying the soak.
“Yeah?” I asked.
“Absolutely no one is to know about this,” she said. “Not only would I be arrested, they would take you away from me.”
“I won’t tell anyone,” I agreed.
“And even if we do this,” she continued, “it doesn’t change things between us. I am still your mother and I expect you to do what I say. And we can’t stay up this late every night doing . . . you know. You still need your sleep.”
“I know,” I said. Then I smiled. “Of course, I don’t think you could ever deny me if I really needed it badly enough. You love me too much.”
She laughed and agreed that it was probably true.
Not long after ,we got out of the tub. I took her by the hand and held it as she rose to her feet. We dried each other off and she followed me into the bedroom and sat down on the edge of the bed. She pulled her legs over on to the mattress and I covered her with the blanket. I walked around the other side and climbed in next to her. We moved in close together and began to kiss.
I can’t say how long we kissed. Time lost all its meaning. I closed my eyes and all I could feel was the warmth of her body, the touch of her lips, and the sweet throbbing of her cock against mine. I kissed her all over her neck and her face as she did likewise. After a while, we stopped, then stared into one another’s eyes for a long, long time.
“Goodnight, baby,” she said.
“Goodnight, Mom,” I told her.
I snuggled in close to her and soon fell asleep.
My mom, however, had other plans.
“Time to get up,” she said from the doorway. Flicking on the lights, I whined and covered my head with the blanket. “Come on,” she said, “two more days and you’re done.”
“School was cancelled,” I said, my voice muffled by several layers of covers.
“Oh really,” said my mom. The bed springs lowered slightly as she sat on the mattress next to me. I remained hidden.
“The news said there was a 99.999% chance of snow, so they just cancelled it,” I said, obviously lying. “You’d better let me sleep. Growing boys need their sleep.”
“Growing boys need to quit stalling and get out of bed,” said my mom, “because you know what’ll happen if you don’t . . .”
“What?” I asked.
“You’ll get tickled!” Before I knew it, my mom’s fingers were digging into my sides, hitting all my weak spots. I’d always been very ticklish and she, being my mother, knew all the right buttons to push. I was at her mercy, giggling so hard I could barely breathe.
“No more!” I croaked.
“Are you going to get out of bed and come have breakfast?” she asked, her fingers withdrawn but still ready to strike.
“Yeah, yeah,” I finally said.
“Good,” Mom replied. She gave me a swat on the butt and rose from the bed. She left my room and I could hear her walking down the stairs to the kitchen. I stretched, pulled back to the covers, and rolled out of bed to begin my day.
Fifteen minutes later, showered and dressed, I joined my mom in the kitchen. She was dressed for work as well, in a handsome red suit, white blouse, and black stockings. I guess now would be a good time to tell you about her. Her name is Christine, she’s 39 years old, and she raise d me by herself since I was a baby. My dad died of cancer before my first birthday, so I never knew him. Mom and I got along well, though. She had a successful career as a producer of a local news program, so we never wanted for money. I’m her only *****. She’s never really dated that I can remember although sometimes I wonder if she’s just waiting until I go to college.
Watching her cook my scrambled eggs (dry with pepper, just the way I like them) I had to admire her. She was tall for a woman, almost six feet, with very large breasts, and firm, muscular thighs and calves. She had a nice, round ass as well. Her body was sexy enough to match the beauty of her face: pink lips, blue eyes, perfect smile, sandy blonde hair. As I took all these things in, I felt a little guilty to be analyzing my mom in that way. But, as I reminded myself, I was just stating the obvious.
“I’m going over to Ann’s after school,” I told her. Ann was my girlfriend. She was a sophomore, like me, and we’d be dating for a few weeks.
“And how will you be getting home?” my mom asked.
“Ann’s brother said he’d give me a ride,” I told her.
“OK,” Mom replied.
With that matter resolved, my mom served me my eggs and toast, then poured herself a bowl of Special K to eat. I made a face at her, expressing my disapproval of the bland cereal and my mom laughed. We talked idly as we ate until it was time to leave.
Mom always dropped me off on her way to work. She pulled the car up to the curb, working her way through the crowd of high school students converging on the school like ants. I said goodbye and opened the door.
“Brendan?” she asked.
“Yes?”
“Forgetting something?”
I looked around for a moment, trying to remember what it was. Then I noticed my mom’s cheek turned towards me. I grinned, gave her a kiss on the cheek, and stepped out of the car. I shut the door and waved goodbye as she drove away.
-----
My day at school was uneventful. The days before a vacation always are. The students were restless and impatient. The teachers were powerless to do anything about it. I spent most of my time in class thinking about Ann and wondering what she had in store for us that afternoon. I knew for a fact that her parents were away and we’d have the place to ourselves until her brother got home from work at 6:00 PM.
Strangely, as I thought about Ann, my mom kept popping up in my thoughts. I thought of her body pressing against me that mourning as she’d tickled me. I could feel her breasts against me . . .
I pushed that thought from my mind and tried to focus on Ann. She was small and slender with a taut, lithe body. Her brown hair and eyes always made my cock stir as she’d toss her head and her eyes would shine with mischief. I was definitely looking forward to seeing her.
Hours later, the time finally came. Ann and I went to her house on the bus and she immediately led me into her bedroom. She asked me to strip down to my boxer shorts, which I did, and sit down on the bed. She smiled at me and disappeared into her bathroom, shutting the door behind her.
“Ready?” I heard her call out a minute later.
“Ready,” I said.
The door slowly opened and Ann emerged. She was dressed only in a white, nearly transparent babydoll which clearly revealed the dark circles of her nipples. She also wore a tiny pair of g-string panties. She turned in a circle, letting me see her ass with only a tiny strip of cloth wedged in her crack. She was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.
It was odd, however, that instead of feeling overwhelmed with desire as I would have expected to be, I felt a tight ball of anxiety form in my stomach. It only grew as Ann moved closer. When she sat down on the bed and began to stroke my thigh, I was paralyzed.
“M-maybe we shouldn’t do this,” I stammered.
“Why not?” she asked.
“What if your brother comes home early?” I asked.
“He won’t,” she said.
“We should wait until we’re sure we have privacy,” I suggested. “Don’t you think?”
“No,” was her reply.
Her hand slid up my thigh and came to rest right on my cock. There was only a thin layer of cotton separating us. She began to rub, trying to get a reaction out of me. I began to sweat, but my dick wouldn’t harden one bit. I desperately wanted to be out of there. Her eyes suddenly became angry, as if she’d taken my inability to get it up as a personal insult.
“What’s the matter?” she asked.
“I’m just nervous?” I said.
“Why are you nervous?” she demanded. “Don’t you feel comfortable with me? Don’t you want me?”
“I do,” I said, “I just don’t . . .”
“Fine,” she said, standing up quickly. She grabbed a bathrobe off a hook and quickly wrapped it around herself, covering up.
“Ann . . .” I said.
“Leave,” she ordered.
“How am I gonna get home?” I asked.
“I don’t care,” she said. “You’ve humiliated me. You can walk home. I don’t give a shit.”
There was nothing I could say or do. Under Ann’s glaring watch, I dressed, grabbed my coat, and left. It was 3:00 PM. It would take me an hour or more to walk home. A cold wind blew and I buttoned up my coat to my chin. Sighing deeply, I began to walk.
-----
Around 4:00 PM, I reached my house. I’d had an hour to think about what’d happened between Ann and me, but my mind was still wracked with confusion and doubt. I had been attracted to her, but I hadn’t been sexually aroused by her touch. In fact, it was almost the opposite. I asked myself a thousand questions but the one which popped up most was: am I gay? Could that explain why she couldn’t seduce me? I didn’t think about men in a sexual way, but now I began to wonder.
As I walked down my driveway, I saw my mom’s car parked in the garage. Apparently, she’d come home early. I walked into the garage and through the door into the house. I could heard the sound of the washing machine and the dryer running downstairs in the basement laundry room, as well as the sound of my mom moving around. I walked down the carpeted stairs until I had reached the basement floor. I looked across the room to where Mom was standing.
My insides froze as I saw her. Mom was standing, with her back to me, wearing nothing but a red bra. My eyes followed the graceful arch of her back to her big, firm ass, down to her strong thighs. She didn’t move. Apparently, she couldn’t hear me over the sound of the machines. I knew I should retreat up the stairs, as silently as I had come, but I was transfixed on my mother’s nude body.
Suddenly, as if sensing something behind her, my mom whirled around to face me. She had the same deer in headlights look I knew must have been on my face. My eyes focused immediately on her huge breasts, barely contained by the bra. They had to be at least double D’s. My eyes flicked down to her crotch and I got the biggest shock of my entire life.
Nestled comfortably between my mother’s thighs was an eight-inch, limp penis, hanging over an equally enormous pair of testicles, all capped by a bush of golden-brown pubic hair.
Finally able to move, my mom grabbed a towel to cover herself. When her *******is broke, so did mine. I immediately turned and bolted up the stairs. I ran into the living room but I didn’t know what to do. I had just seen my mother naked and she was a man! Should I leave? Should I stay? I didn’t know. I ran up the stairs into my room and sat down on my bed. I was so confused I could barely think. So I sat and waited.
A few minutes later, I heard an almost imperceptibly soft knock on the door.
“Brendan?” my mom whispered. “Honey, are you OK?”
“Yeah,” I said weakly.
“May I come in?” she asked.
“I guess,” I replied, not sure if I should.
The door opened slowly and my mom stepped in, wearing a pair of gray sweats and a Boston University t-shirt. Her face was bright red and she looked as if she were about to cry. She was ringing her hands together nervously as if not sure what to say. I didn’t know what to say either, but I was afraid to speak.
“I spilled soup on my clothes,” she told me. “I went down and threw them in the wash since I was doing a load anyway. I didn’t think you’d be home so early.”
“It’s not your fault, sweetie,” she said. “May I sit down?” I shrugged. My mom sat down on the bed next to me and I scooted over to make room for her. “What are you thinking about?” she asked me.
“You have . . .” I began, but couldn’t finish.
“Brendan,” she said, taking a deep breath, “I am a transsexual.”
The word hung in the air. I had heard it before, but never had a real concept of what it meant. I thought of the movie “The Birdcage” and men performing, dressed up like women. But these people still looked like men. My mother had the face and figure of a beautiful, feminine woman.
“Do you know what that is?” she asked. I shook my head, not able to meet her eye. My arms were folded across my chest and my chin was almost touching my elbows. “A transsexual is a man or a woman who lives as a member of the opposite sex. He or she still has the same sex organs, unless that’s changed by surgery, but most don’t do that. For the most part, someone like me, a person born as a man who becomes a woman, tries to be as womanly as possible. That’s how I’ve lived my life.”
“But why?” I asked.
“When I was a young gi- . . .” she paused. “ . . . a young boy, I knew I was different. People said I was a boy, but I knew they were wrong. I knew I was really a girl. After high school, I decided to end the charade. I went into counseling, took hormones, had some minor cosmetic surgery. I changed my name and, when I entered college after a year off, Christopher Murray was gone and Christine Murray remained.”
“But what about Dad?” I asked. “It’s obvious you didn’t give birth to me. So who did? And how does Dad fit into all this?”
“Well,” she said, “you know your father and I met in college. I was the co-chair of the Boston University Queer Alliance. Gay groups were still relatively new back then. He joined because he was questioning his sexuality. I knew there was something special about him so I told him my secret. To my surprise, he wasn’t disgusted or afraid. He thought it was kinda sexy. So we started dating and then we were married after graduation.”
“Two years before I was born,” I said. I knew this part of the story although Mom had always just said they’d met in college.
“We’d lived together for a year before we decided to have ********,” she continued. “Obviously, I couldn’t become pregnant. I wish I could have. I wanted so badly to carry you and feel you growing inside me. But such is life.”
“So who did give birth to me?” I asked.
“Your Aunt Natalie,” was her surprising answer. I was stunned. Natalie was not my real aunt, I knew, just my mother’s oldest friend. I had no knowledge of this, however. “We considered adoption, but we wanted our baby to be part of us, so we asked Natalie to be the surrogate mother and she agreed. Her only request was that she remain a part of the baby’s life, which she has.”
“So who donated?” I asked, unable to use the word sperm in front of my mother.
“I did,” she said. “We expected to have another ***** at some point and figured we’d donate the next time around.”
“Then he got cancer,” I said.
“Right,” my mom replied, lowering her head. “Your father loved me very much, but he loved you more than anything in the world. He always thought of you as his son and me as your mother. He died happy because of you.”
My mother’s voice was a harsh whisper, choked with tears. Seeing her, on the verge of open weeping, I forgot my confusion and opened my arms to her. She hugged me tightly, crying into my shoulder. I held her, stroking her head, beginning to cry as well.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I wish I could have been a real mother to you.”
I pulled away and looked her in the eye. I didn’t see a transsexual or a sperm donor. I saw the woman who kissed me goodnight, who made my lunches, who had always shown me nothing but love and kindness my entire life.
“You are my mother,” I said, “and I love you.”
“I love you too, honey,” she said, and held me once again.
-----
By the time I went to bed, things had more or less returned to normal. My mother had been born a man, with the package to prove it. But she was my mother and I didn’t care about that. She and I were a team and that wouldn’t change now. As my mom kissed me goodnight, my mind was on Ann. My mom said goodnight and left the room, flicking off the lights. Alone in the dark with only my thoughts, I recalled what had transpired.
Suddenly, I had a small epiphany. If I was concerned that I might be gay, I should talk to someone who had been through the same experience. And I had just such a person under the same roof! Surely my mom had dealt with these same feelings at some point. It would be awkward talking to her about this sort of thing but nowhere near as awkward as it had been for her to talk to me about her life.
Finally, I threw back the covers and climbed out of bed. Dressed in my t-shirt and boxer shorts, I crept out of my room and down the hall to my mom’s room. Her light was still on, so I knocked.
“Mom?” I called.
“Just a sec!” she called back. I heard shuffling in the room, then she said, “Come in.”
I walked into the room, ringing my hands together as I shuffled towards her. She was in bed, with her blankets pulled up to her stomach. She wore a white, flannel nightgown embroidered with pink and purple flowers. She was sitting up as if she’d been watching TV but nothing was on the screen.
“Hi,” I said.
“What’s up?” she asked. I moved closer.
“I need to talk to you about something?” I said.
“Sure, kiddo,” she said, patting the spot on the bed next to her. “What’s on your mind?”
“Well,” I said, sitting beside her, “I was over at Ann’s today and . . . I feel weird talking about this . . . but we started to get kind of physical.” Mom raised her eyebrows. “But, I didn’t feel anything. Anything except nervous, anyway. I think . . . I think I might be gay.”
My mom thought about it for a moment, then responded.
“I know how that feels,” she said. “I had been attracted to other boys as long as I could remember but, when I was about your age, I started looking at other girls differently.”
“Really?” I asked, surprised.
“Yeah,” she said. “The important thing to remember is that sexuality is a very broad thing. Just because you feel sexually attracted to one man or you have sex with one, it doesn’t mean you’re gay. Or, if you aren’t turned on by one particular woman, that doesn’t mean you’re gay either.”
“So how do I know?” I asked.
“You just need to experiment until you find what you like,” she said.
“Oh,” I said, a little disappointed. My mom looked at me and smiled. I smiled back weakly. I was hoping Mom would have some more answers. Shrugging, I figured I could try looking at some gay porn and see if I liked it. It was worth a shot.
“Wait, I have an idea,” my mom finally said. I looked over at her, sitting on the bed beside me in her nightgown. “I have a video you could watch.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“An . . . adult video,” she said, blushing. My mom had porn! I was stunned for the millionth time today. “Want to watch it? I’ll turn it off if you don’t like it.”
“Alright,” I said nervously. I had trouble comprehending the idea of watching gay porn with my mom. Of course, I had managed to comprehend the idea of my mom having a penis, so I supposed I could handle anything.
My mom reached for the DVD remote on the night table to the right of the bed. She pointed it at the television, pressed a button, and the television turned on. She pressed another button and a DVD began to play, beginning with a title screen which read: “Twink Farmboys #3”. She fast-forwarded through the credits to the first scene, which opened with a picturesque scene of a country farm, then cut to the inside of a barn.
There was a brown-haired, teenage boy with blue eyes wearing nothing but jeans and a cowboy hat, moving some wooden crates. I found myself admiring his flat stomach and muscular arms and wondering wha the would look like naked. Just then, another teenage boy who had blonde hair and was wearing overalls, stepped into the frame. He walked over to the first boy and they greeted one another.
“My pa is out fo rthe day,” said the blonde.
“I’m just about finished anyway,” said the brunette.
“You look like you could use a drink,” the blonde remarked. “Or maybe a blowjob.”
The brunette, apparently caught unaware by this proposal, backed away but found only a wall behind him. The blonde moved in, pressing his hands against the brunette’s firm chest and kissing his neck. His fingers moved down to the brunette’s jeans and he unbuttoned the fly as the brunette gave into his urges. Once the jeans were open, the blonde pulled out his friend’s seven-inch, hard, uncircumcised cock and began to suck eagerly.
Meanwhile, my own dick was rock hard. I was so caught up in the video that I didn’t notice the tent I’d pitched in my boxers. My mom, however, did notice. She looked over at me, smiled, then looked down at my crotch. I blushed madly.
“You like it?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “Those guys are cute.”
“Why don’t you get under the covers?” she suggested. “Get warm.”
“OK,” I replied.
Mom pulled down the blankets past her knees, making room for me to swing my legs under the covers. Looking over at her, I suddenly noticed that I wasn’t the only one who had pitched a tent. There was an unmistakable rise in the fabric of her nightgown which pulled the hem of the garment tantalizingly close to the place where her legs met. I looked at her and smiled, still blushing. She smiled back.
“Come here,” she said.
Once we were both under the blankets, she extended her left arm, putting her hand on the back of my neck, gently pulling me closer. Soon, her arm was around me and I rested my head in the hollow of her shoulder with my face towards the screen. We had sat like this on countless nights when I was a ***** and, unable to sleep, I had climbed into her bed to watch late night TV before falling asleep almost instantly in her arms. It was the kind of sleep a person could know only in his mother’s arms, surrounded and protected by her love.
“Comfy, sweetie?” she asked.
“Very,” I said, listening to the sound of her heart beating.
“Do you mind if I get a little more comfortable?” she asked hesitantly. At first, I didn’t understand. Then realization dawned on me.
“No,” I said quietly, “I don’t mind.”
“I won’t if it bothers you,” she said. “You just looked like you were enjoying the movie and I think movies like this are better without . . . you know.”
“Do you mind if I do it too?” I asked, still nervous.
“Not at all, sweetie,” she answered.
My mom tugged the material of her nightgown up until the hem was below her breasts. She sat forward and I moved away to give her room. She grabbed the hem and pulled the entire garment off, then dropped it to the floor beside her. She reclined again, adjusting the blankets at her waist. I stared openly at her breasts. They were even more spectacular up close than they had been at a distance – round globes with large, pink nipples in the center, perfectly shaped and symmetrical. My mom saw me staring but didn’t seem to mind.
“Your turn,” she said softly.
Taking a deep breath and letting it out shakily, I pulled my head into my shirt, then worked it off quickly. I dropped it on the floor. Then I reached down under the blankets with both hands and wiggled out of my boxer shorts. I dropped them with my shirt. My mom smiled at me, then pulled me close again. I rested my head just above her left breast and continued to watch the movie. Her heart was pounding. So was mine.
It’s hard to describe what I was feeling. I was in bed, naked, watching a gay porno movie with my mother, who had a bigger erection than I did. A distant voice told me to stop (my “superego”, I supposed) the little angel on our shoulder, not sent by God, but by an unforgiving, narrow-minded society.
I can only compare it to the feeling you get right before falling asleep. You’re warm, you’re safe, and the worries of the world are washed away by the comforting darkness. You’re powerless to stop it, but that doesn’t matter anymore.
“I love you,” my mom said softly to me. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”
“I love you too, Mom,” I said, “but I do want to do this.”
“OK, baby,” she said, giving me a half-hug which I returned warmly. “Just relax and breathe.”
-----
As my mom held me against her naked body, both of us throbbing with a desire expressed only by occasional twitches under the blankets, the video continued to play.
The brunette teenager’s blowjob was gone and now it was time for him to give as he had received. The blonde unhooked the straps of his overalls and the brunette went to work, kissing his chest. He knelt down before his friend and pulled the clothing off. The boy’s cock sprang out. The brunette took the thick organ in his hand and began to stroke it.
The blonde boy took a step back and sat down on a bale of hay which was conveniently covered by a wool blanket. The camera moved closer. The brunette opened his lips and took his friend’s purpose head into his mouth, wetting it before pulling back. The tip glistened with saliva. The brunette licked the tip and a clear string of precum hung between his tongue and the hole. A moment later, the brunette began to suck in earnest.
“Do you still want to watch it, honey?” my mom asked me, barely whispering.
“Yeah,” I said.
“You can play with yourself if you want,” she said, even more softly.
“OK,” I replied. “You can too.”
“Would you mind that?” she asked.
“No,” I whispered. “I want you to.”
We looked deeply into one another’s eyes, each hesitant to move or speak. The moment was so fragile that both of us were afraid to disturb the delicate balance. I didn’t know what to think, so I didn’t try to. I let my body and my heart guide me. Both told me not to lose my nerve now, that I was on the brink of something special, and that I should give in to my longings.
My right hand was under my hip as I leaned on my side, against my mom’s body. My left hand, however, was free. I slid it slowly down my stomach until I felt my cock, rock-hard in my hand. Never breaking my eyes away from Mom’s, I slowly began to stroke my dick, the blanket rising and falling with a soft rustle at every successive pump.
Mom kept her eyes locked on me as well. her hand, hidden beneath the blankets, seized her enormous organ and she began to masturbate as well. My mind swam. My mother and I were jacking off together and it didn’t feel weird at all. It was different, of course, but I felt perfectly natural and at ease with her. In fact, I felt closer to her than I ever had before.
We masturbated slowly and rhythmically, synchronizing our movements, neither of us wanting to ejaculate yet. This was about so much more than getting off. This was about showing our love and trust. Occasionally, our hands would bump together. We’d apologize and laugh but, other than that, the silence was unbroken. Both of us realized the implications of what we were doing but somehow it didn’t seem to matter.
“Mom . . .” I whispered.
“What?” she replied.
“Can we turn the video off?” I asked.
“Why?” she asked, a worried expression flashing across her beautiful face. “I thought you liked it.”
“I do,” I said, “but I want this to be about us. Besides, I think the mood is already set.” She smiled at me, then nodded slowly.
I leaned over her and took the remote off the night table. I pointed it at the television, turning it off with a click of a button. Then I pulled the cord on the lamp, shutting off the light. After a moment, our eyes readjusted. The lights from outside allowed us to see, but the darkness added the atmosphere we needed for our secret encounter. Outside the snow was falling, making the night even more enchanting.
That’s when I noticed the position I was in. I was leaning over my mother’s bare breasts with my face inches from hers. Also, with the shifting I’d done, the blanket had slid down my body. My naked, erect penis was hanging down, the tip almost touching Mom’s hip. her eyes were fixed on it. Then she looked me in the eye and smiled.
“Big boy . . .” she said and I blushed.
“Thanks,” I said, not sure what else to say.
“You’re beautiful,” she told me.
“So are you,” I replied.
“Come here, my big boy . . .”
My mother opened her slender, white arms and I swiftly submitted to her embrace. We lay on our sides, facing one another, our faces inches apart. I could feel her delicate hands on the small of my back, caressing my skin. My arms were likewise on the soft flesh of her back and I could feel her warm, yielding breasts against my chest.
“Do you love me?” she asked.
“I love you, Mom,” I assured her.
“I love you too, baby,” she said. “I love you with all my heart, all my soul, and now with my body too.”
She closed her eyes and leaned in. I did the same. The moment seemed to draw out, longer than an eternity, but finally our lips brushed together. We each leaned in another half inch until our lips pressed together. Her mouth tasted sweet. Her lips were soft and the pressure of them against mine was heavenly. I felt myself becoming lost in the perfect intimacy of it. My mother had kissed me a thousand times in my life but never like this.
Her breasts, burning hot with desire, pressed against my chest as she inhaled, sucking the air from my mouth. Then she exhaled and her hot, minty breath filled my mouth. My entire body shuddered with delight. Finally, we broke the kiss reluctantly, slowly pulling our lips apart. with my eyes still closed, I could feel the residual tingle of her lips against mine. I inhaled deeply, letting her fragrance fill my mouth and nose, then I licked my lips. I opened my eyes to find my mom smiling at me.
“You’re an amazing kisser,” she said.
I smiled and said only one word in response: “More.”
We again rushed into one another’s arms. While our first kiss had been gentle, an experimental exploration, this kiss was an expression of all our passion for one another. The tingling I felt in my lips spread to the tips of my toes. My dick became as hard as steel and the room was filled with the sounds of sucking, breathing, moaning, and wordless whispering in the dark.
Mom’s lips parted slowly and I could feel her wet tongue slide into my mouth, probing cautiously. With our lips locked together, I allowed my tongue to slip into her mouth as well. Our tongues, slippery with saliva, danced together. Unable to control myself, I took her face in my hands and began to suck on her tongue before eventually withdrawing for a moment. Then the kissing began anew.
I don’t know how much time passed. It seemed to slip away, to sink into a warm pool of bliss. I ceased to think. Everything was sensation. Finally, I was woken, as if from a dream, as my mom broke our kiss. She looked into my eyes, licked her upper lip, then coyly wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
“Can I tell you something?” she asked me, with a strange nervousness in her voice.
“Of course,” I said, twirling some of her sandy blonde hair between my fingers as I rubbed my other hand across her flat stomach.
“Don’t be mad or grossed out,” she said.
“I promise,” I said, laughing slightly.
“Well,” she said, “when you were a baby, I used to let you suck my nipples, even though I couldn’t lactate. It wasn’t meant to be a sexual thing. I just wanted to feel that connection that a real mother feels.” She looked down, embarrassed. I laid my hand against her cheek and she kissed my palm.
“You are my real mother,” I said, “and you deserve to feel that.”
“Thank you, Brendan,” she said, her eyes glistening.
“Did it feel good?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said, “even if it wasn’t natural.”
“But did it feel good?” I asked, smiling. My mom thought about it for a moment, then suddenly caught my meaning. She smiled and nodded her head.
“OK, then,” I said.
I pulled away from her and slid a bit farther down until her breasts were directly in front of my face. The pink areola were several inches in diameter with big nipples in the center of each. Mom had implants, but you could never tell. As I lay there, admiring them, my mom mistook my moment of appreciation as hesitation.
“You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to,” she said. She tried to sound comforting, but I could heard disappointment as well.
I didn’t answer. Instead, I placed a kiss in between her breasts, feeling the smooth skin of each breast against either cheek. Then I moved over to her left breast. I held it in one hand, feeling the great weight and size of it. I kissed it, moving closer to her nipple with each brush of my wet lips against the gorgeous flesh.
At last, I came to her nipple. I opened my mouth wide, then pressed my lips against it, taking as much of her tit into my mouth as I could. I flicked the tip of my tongue against the large nipple, then closed my lips around it. I squeezed it tightly between my top and bottom lip, then let my tongue trace a ring around it. I began to suck harder, as if I were a greedy baby eager for milk.
Mom, meanwhile, was in a state of rapture. Her head was back and she was cooing softly. Her fingers were digging into my back of my scalp as she pushed my face against her, as if I needed any encouragement to keep sucking her! As I sucked her, my hands explored her body. My left hand came to rest on her firm butt. I began to gently knead the flesh, which seemed to turn her on even more.
I switched to her right breast once her squeals, moans, and grunts indicated that perhaps the other had become too sensitive to continue playing with for the time being. I gave the other nipple the same treatment and met with the same response. I continued to rub my other hand over Mom’s ass, even letting my fingers brush the crack.
“Blow on them,” Mom whispered.
I did as my mother told me. I blew on her right nipple first and then the left. I saw the nipples stiffen and the areola become prickly with goose bumps. Mom shuddered with delight. Sensing that her nipples had endured all they could, I slip up the mattress until we were face-to-face again.
“I have an idea,” Mom said, kissing me.
“What?” I asked, kissing her back.
“Why don’t we lose the blankets?” she asked, smiling impishly. “It’s warm enough in here. And I wanna see you.”
“Good idea,” I said, kissing her between each word.
“Let’s lay on our backs, side-by-side,” she said. “I’ll pull the comforter over myself and you pull the sheets over yourself. Then we rip them off at the same time.”
“Cool,” I said.
We moved apart until we were both on our backs. Mom pulled the comforter on top of herself. I did the same with the sheets. We both sat up slightly, looking down at one another’s bodies, waiting for the big moment. She looked over at me and smiled. I smiled back.
“Ready?” I asked.
“On the count of three,” she said. “One . . . two . . . three!”
We both flung our respective covers aside, letting them fall to the floor. Mom and I were naked, together in bed, with nothing covering us. My eyes widened as they took in her huge dick and her enormous balls. Before, she had been doing laundry and caught by surprise. Now, she was fully erect, her shaft jutting ten inches nearly straight up. Her thighs were solid, firm, and muscular. Her scrotum lay between them, like two eggs in a nest. My eyes followed the length of her shapely legs, then back up to her breasts.
“God, Mom, you’re so hot!” I cried out. Mom burst out laughing.
“Why thank you, Brendan!” she replied, beaming.
We both began giggling, both at the absurdity of what we were doing and at the absurdity of waiting so long to do it.
“Stand up,” I said, once we had stopped laughing.
Now we were both on our sides, leaning on our elbows, trying to look one another in the eye while stealing obvious peeks at the other’s package.
“Why?” she asked.
“I want to see you walk,” I told her.
“You’ve seen me walk,” she said.
“Not naked!” I excaimed.
Mom laughed, then rolled off the bed, giving me the most fleeting glimpse of her asshole as she did. She walked to the far side of the room, her big, tight butt wiggling as her hips swayed. Then she turned around to face me like a model on the cat walk. She walked towards the bed. Her cock, hanging down halfway to her knees, swung back and forth as she moved. Then she climbed back on the bed, crawled towards me on all fours, and gave me a kiss.
“Do you like Mommy’s dick?” she asked.
“Very much,” I said. “Do you like mine?”
She looked down at my dick, six inches semi-erect, twitching excitedly against my leg. She began to run her fingernails against my thighs, causing my penis to immediately spring to full erection.
“He looks like he wants to be played with,” Mom said.
“So does she,” I said, nodding towards her crotch. “What did you have in mind?”
“Spread your legs,” she said.
I spread them wide. At first, I felt nervous, leaving myself so vulnerable. But that was just an instinctual reaction. I had complete trust in my mother. She likewise spread her legs and scooted towards me until her legs were over mine and our nutsacks pressed together. It was a feeling too wondrous and sublime to describe and I sighed deeply.
With tender care, my mom placed her hand at the base of my shaft. her slender fingers wrapped around it and she began to jerk me off. I took the hint and gripped her cock in my hand as well. By this point, I had grown comfortable with the sight of it, but the feeling of it in my hand was a whole new sensation. It was so big that I had trouble getting my fingers around it. I felt the blood pumping through it, keeping it hard for me.
Mom and I stroked one another’s cocks while our other hands explored. I caressed her breasts and her sexy thighs. She cupped my balls, rolling them in her hand. We kissed intermittently, whispering words of love into one another’s ears.
“Baby,” she said, “I want you to cum for me. Can you do that for me, sweetie?”
“Yeah,” I said, between harsh breaths. “Do it a little harder.” She did. “Perfect,” I told her.
She pulled my hand off her cock and pressed her shaft against mine. She held them together in her hand and began to stroke us together. The friction of the soft underside of her dick was glorious and I felt myself swiftly approaching orgasm.
“Are you going to?” I asked breathlessly. I was sweating now.
“Yes,” she said in a whisper. “Let’s do it together.”
“OK,” I agreed.
She continued to jack us off and her pace quickened. The body heat was swearing and we were both perspiring profusely. Mom’s ass was bouncing on the mattress. I had my hands on her shoulders, bracing myself. Both of our cocks were swollen and red.
“I’m going to . . .” I said.
“Hold it in just one more second, hun,” she said.
She squeezed her fist tighter around our cocks as her arm pumped up and down like an engine piston. I concentrated all my will on not ejaculating, waiting for her, so that we could fully share in the moment. I leaned in against my mom’s bare shoulder, closing my eyes and burying my face in the soft skin. I felt like crying. The pain of waiting was so intense that I was nearly overwhelmed by it. Finally, Mom gave me the word.
“OK,” she breathed in a ragged whisper. “Do it.”
At once, a translucent white stream of semen erupted from my cock, arching towards my mom’s chest and splattering on her naked breasts. I let out a fierce cry of ******* as the pressure was relieved. Mom, meanwhile, had jettisoned her own load of sperm which spurted straight up and then splashed down between us, covering our sweaty dicks with a slippery layer of sticky cum. My mom did not relent. She milked us both for every drop we were worth until both of us were literally covered with jizz. Exhausted, I fell back on the bed. My mom fell beside me. The hot darkness was filled with our heated panting.
After we’d recovered from our ordeal, my mom told me she was going to get cleaned up. She rose from the bed and walked into her bathroom, shutting the door behind her. I waited until I heard the sound of running water and then climbed out of bed as well. I walked over to the bathroom door and knocked gently.
“Mom?” I said.
“You should get washed up and go to bed, Brendan,” she said. “We can talk about this in the morning.” I could tell from the tone of her voice that something was wrong.
I tested the knob and found it unlocked. I pushed the door open and stepped into the bathroom to find my mom, wrapped in a towel, sitting on the toilet seat lid. She looked as if she’d been crying. I felt a little straight being naked while she was covered by the towel, but I sat down on the edge of the Jacuzzi anyway.
“I think we should talk now,” I said.
“I’m so sorry, Brendan,” she said softly, looking at the floor.
“For what?” I asked.
“We shouldn’t have done that,” she said. “I’m your mother. It was wrong of me and I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” I said.
“I know how it is for boys your age,” she said. “When you’re 18, you’re so full of hormones that you’ll do anything to get off. I took advantage of you.”
I knelt down on the floor in front of her and placed my hands on her knee. I kissed it gently.
“You didn’t make me do any thing I didn’t want to,” I said. “I’m glad we did it. “
“Are you sure?” she asked nervously.
“Of course,” I told her. “That was the most beautiful, emotional, spiritual experience of my life. I just wish we could do more.”
“Really?” she asked.
“Absolutely.”
“I’m so glad you said that, Brendan.”
“Come on,” I told her, standing up, and giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Let’s clean up.”
She remained sitting while I turned the knobs on the Jacuzzi and water began to fill the basin. She rose up and slowly peeled the towel away, revealing her gorgeous body to me again. Even though I’d seen it already, it was still breathtaking. She was the perfect combination of feminine beauty and masculine sexuality.
When the water was full, we both climbed in. We cleaned off one another’s bodies with soap, then washed each other’s hair. I loved sitting with my back to her, between her legs, feeling her fingers through my soapy hair and the head of her cock poking against my back.
“We should get something straight,” she said, after we’d cleaned up, and were enjoying the soak.
“Yeah?” I asked.
“Absolutely no one is to know about this,” she said. “Not only would I be arrested, they would take you away from me.”
“I won’t tell anyone,” I agreed.
“And even if we do this,” she continued, “it doesn’t change things between us. I am still your mother and I expect you to do what I say. And we can’t stay up this late every night doing . . . you know. You still need your sleep.”
“I know,” I said. Then I smiled. “Of course, I don’t think you could ever deny me if I really needed it badly enough. You love me too much.”
She laughed and agreed that it was probably true.
Not long after ,we got out of the tub. I took her by the hand and held it as she rose to her feet. We dried each other off and she followed me into the bedroom and sat down on the edge of the bed. She pulled her legs over on to the mattress and I covered her with the blanket. I walked around the other side and climbed in next to her. We moved in close together and began to kiss.
I can’t say how long we kissed. Time lost all its meaning. I closed my eyes and all I could feel was the warmth of her body, the touch of her lips, and the sweet throbbing of her cock against mine. I kissed her all over her neck and her face as she did likewise. After a while, we stopped, then stared into one another’s eyes for a long, long time.
“Goodnight, baby,” she said.
“Goodnight, Mom,” I told her.
I snuggled in close to her and soon fell asleep.
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