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Trip Down Memory Lane

12

Every once in a while I get fan mail from someone who claims to be a mother who wants to sleep with her son. Sometimes they even ask for advice. At first, I was taken aback by these emails — this is a fantasy for me only. While I have had girlfriends who have engaged in role play as my mother (and that was entirely awesome), nothing like this has ever actually happened to me, and never will. But I am left wondering about these requests. In terms of advice, I have none, except to say be really sure you want something like that to happen, because the social repercussions will likely be swift, fierce and merciless. But then, what is reward without risk? Keep those emails coming! I'll try to do the same for my fans.

*****

I moved my hands all over her ample asscheeks. The oil made the skin reflect the candlelight, and my cock even harder.

"Baby, you have a huge ass."

She turned her head to look at me while I worshipped her butt. "I know! It's massive! It just keeps getting bigger as I get older. Isn't it awesome?" She smiled at me and pushed her ass out even farther. "Don't you want to just kiss it, slap it, spread that oil until it shines, stick your tongue in it, just do everything and anything you can to get inside it?

"And I know what you want me to do, you dirty, dirty little boy." Her beautiful, long manicured fingers reached back and indented her cheeks. "You want me to take these..." Grip. "...And do this." She pulled her ass open and stuck her gorgeous little asshole out, making it wink for me.

"Jesus. You know me too well." My heart was racing. Nobody could play me like she could.

She let go and shook it; my eyes were glued to watching the flesh bounce. "See? You can't even look me in the eye when I do this. My ass totally owns you." She smiled again.

"It does, honey. It does. It owns me. I want to marry it."

"You want to marry my ass?" she laughed. That's hilarious! What if I said yes? What if I said yes right now?" Her eyes sparkled. "It's illegal to be married to more than one person at a time, but I'm not sure that applies..." She moved backwards enough to be able to push her ass against my face. "...To body parts as well. I think you're allowed to marry any of those, or all of them, if you want."

"Oh, want. I definitely want. You won't be jealous?" My tongue reach out and licked slowly around her tight, beautiful asshole. I felt each wrinkle of flesh as I swiped my tongue over them.

"Ooooh, oh God, i fucking love it when you rim me. No, I won't get jealous. I'll totally share you, with my pussy, my tits, my ass, whatever you want to combine your life with. They already own you completely, they already possess your soul, so why not? You have to promise to take care of them, though, through thick and thin, for forever, just like you promised me. Oh my God, your tongue is going inside me, inside my tight little asshole. That is so fucking dirty. Promise me you'll kiss me after. I want to taste my ass on you," she said.

"But you don't taste like anything, except like fresh, juicy pussy." Her juices had run her thighs and my face. "You're too clean to taste anything." I licked and kissed her ass, making out deeply with her back door. Frenching her from behind was how we often started our "play dates".

"Oh, oh, that feels so good. It doesn't matter, it just feels nasty, and dirty, and I love it, and I love you, and I want to kiss you when you're done. Honey-bear, I wanna' touch myself." Her right hand snaked between her thighs.

"That kiss could be a while. Now, would you like me to see how far up your tight, hot ass I can get this tongue of mine?"

"Yes! Yes, I do, please, baby. I think I'm gonna' sit on it to see if we can get it further in than last week. You don't mind if I smother you for a while, do you, you horny little fucker?" She laughed, knowing the answer.

In response, I took a deep breath and pulled on her thighs where they met her pelvis, completely covering my face with her ripe, full, tremendous ass. God, I was in Heaven. There was no better place to be that underneath my own mother's ass, my tongue deep in her asshole, her hands covered with oil, stroking my cock while she moaned from the pleasure I was giving her.

Pre-cum was drooling out of my cockhead, making it even more slippery. She moved from side to side, mashing down on me, forcing my chin to rub her clit and my tongue further up inside her.

I could barely hear her anymore, and I couldn't breathe. This was a new, somewhat dangerous game we played recently, when I found out how good it felt to be smothered by her ass while she stroked me, or blew me. I had a signal to tell her when she needed to get off of me, and almost all of the time, she obeyed it, except when she was really close to a big orgasm. Then she just kept going, no matter what I did.

When she did this the first time, I was really scared, but after I did some research and found out that I would pass out long before I suffocated, I told her to keep doing it. It took a lot of convincing, but eventually, even she found it really wrong, and therefore, really hot.

I had passed out a couple of times, but not before having the biggest orgasms of my life. We knew it was probably really bad for me, bad for my brain, but the reality was neither of us could stop when we were in that state. It was just another part of the extremely dangerous, chronically exciting life we lived together as mother and son, and husband and wife — and mother and father to our own relatives.

We talked about that, and we both agreed: that edge of the knife was what made our lives worth living.

We lived in a suburb of Phoenix, had a beautiful house with a pool, landscaping, two nice cars, the whole American dream. No one on our block, or in our city for that matter, knew about our relationship. We were 20 years apart in age, but that only bothered a few people. When they saw how much I loved and doted on my wife, my soul mate, they just assumed I was kinky, into older women.

That was true, but no women could capture my heart, soul and cock like my mom. She made me, raised me, and I was built just for her. It was, in a word, a perfect match, by design.

My lungs were really hurting for air, but my lust for my mom's asshole overrode any instinct of self-preservation. I wanted her to come on my face so hard that her asshole ejected my tongue. So far, I had never managed to keep it in during her orgasm, but I kept trying.

"Unnnnnnhh..." She was making the continuous moaning sound rising in pitch that meant she was close. It was a fantastic signal because I could time her orgasms easily with other events.

It looked like I was going to have to pass out again, My cock swelled at the thought, her fingers barely reaching around it. I was a full nine inches, and thick too. She said I was the biggest she'd ever had, certainly bigger than my father, but that didn't stop her from taking me into every orifice she could manage.

She swirled her hand on the tip, hard. That did it. My balls churned, and my dick pulsed.

She tried to lift off of me, but I pulled her down again. I started to see black spots. "Oh God, I love you so much!" she shouted, moving forwards and backwards on my face in little humps, getting herself off.

The tunnel started closing in, a now easily recognizable state of unconsciousness approaching. She was coming, I could feel it in her muscles and how her ass cheeks were shaking. My cock swelled and exploded in her hand, come flying all over the place. I heard her scream, but it trailed off as things faded to black.

Five years earlier

"Josh, are you ready?" My mom was downstairs, calling up for me. I looked in the mirror. The suit was a good fit. My face was haggard. Black circles made my eyes look huge. Spots of red highlighted my cheeks, an artifact of another round of sobbing. It was time to go to my father's funeral.

"Yeah, mom. Just a minute." I splashed cold water on my face.

"Hurry, honey."

I dried off, took another look. That was as good as it was going to get. I went downstairs. When I got to the bottom of the stairs, my mom stepped out of the living room. She looked spectacular in black. She was a bit taller than me, about 5'10". 42 years old, but she looked 35 due to a bunch of yoga and healthy living. Her outfit was conservative, but no matter what she wore, her really large breasts couldn't be denied. Thoughts of how hot she looked managed to cut through the fog of grief.

"Mom, you look great. Just how Dad would have liked." The moment the words were out of my mouth, I regretted them, because I could see her tear up. She managed to hold it in.

"Thank you, honey. That is a great suit on you. You look so much like him in it. Ok, we have to go."

We were silent the entire way to the funeral home. I barely remembered the service afterwards. My dad was never religious, so the pastor's speech was short and sweet. There were quite a few people there, some from his work, his hunting buddies, old college friends. Lots of people had flown in from out of town.

The only thing that stood out to me was when I threw the handful of dirt on his grave. I started crying, but it was controlled. I looked over at my mom, and both of us had a moment of such profound collective anguish. The fact that we shared it was the only thing that made it bearable.

It was another silent drive back to the house for the reception. After many words of condolence and untouched plates and dishes full of food from kind friends, everyone left.

My mom looked at me. "How you doing, honey?"

"Ok, I guess. It's just...weird. I just can't...can't fully believe he's gone forever." The last word came out choked.

"Yeah, I know exactly what you mean." Tears rolled down my mom's face. Her brunette hair was perfect, she put in a lot of effort that morning to look the best she could for her man's last event. Her back dress darted in at the hips and flared back out into a full skirt, accentuating the tall black heels. Just a hint of cleavage, enough to remind everyone of what my dad had been able to enjoy for almost 21 years.

"Come here," she said. She put her arms around me and hugged me close to her. We both stood like that for a little while, just letting the tears come. "Are you hungry?" she asked, pulling away but keeping her arms around me.

"Yeah. I didn't eat anything while everyone was here, but now I'm starving."

"Ok, let me heat something up and we'll just watch some TV." She went into the kitchen and I went upstairs to change.

When I came back down, she had everything laid out on the coffee table. "I picked a movie pretty much at random, if it's bad, we can always change to something else."

"Ok, cool. Thanks for all this, Mom."

"Of course, sweetie. Dig in." We started the movie. I don't really remember much about it, except that it seemed to have a lot of really steamy scenes in it which made me squirm around a lot. My cock just wouldn't accept that this was not a day for shenanigans, and the women on the screen getting petted so heavily made me super-hard.

At one point, my mom, now in a comfy terrycloth robe, leaned back on the arm of the couch away from me and put her feet in my lap. "Honey, do you think you could massage my feet for me?"

"Sure Mom, no problem." I took one in my hand and started in. After a few years of this, I was well practiced with her feet. Her other foot landed in my lap against my hardened cock. I don't think she noticed. She was still watching the screen.

"This movie's a little much, but I don't really care, nothing else sounds good to me and I don't really think it matters right now," she said.

"Yeah, I agree, it's fine." I was actually enjoying the distraction.

"You're not embarrassed with your old lady here?" she asked.

"One, you're not old, and two, no, I think we're both adults at this point." I considered 19 to be adult enough.

"I guess you're right. Still, these scenes are pretty hot. A good distraction, I guess." She looked so tired.

"Yeah, that's what I was thinking. Mom, you look really tired. Maybe you should just go to bed," I suggested.

"I would, but I'm...afraid of going up there tonight. It's going to be so empty." She started crying again.

"Mom, how about I sleep down here and you take my bed?"

"You sure? That sounds like a pretty good idea," she said.

"Of course, Mom. It's no problem. I'll go get some sheets and stuff." I started to rise up from the couch.

"No, no, let me do it. You'll use the wrong ones." She smiled briefly and got up. When she stood up, the robe opened a little bit and I stole a glance at her boobs. God, they were so big. Jesus, how could I be thinking about her tits right now? I guess the whole thing about funerals making people horny was true. That, and I was a 19-year-old with a MILF.

She came back with an armful of sheets and a pillow. "Here you go, let me help you get it set up." She started making up the couch. I kept stealing what glances I could when her rope parted. I think she caught me a couple of times, but she didn't say anything, and I guess was too tired to do anything about closing up.

"There, honey-bear. You sure about this?" she asked.

"Yes, absolutely. You're tired, go to bed. The sheets should be fine, you just changed them a few days ago."

"Yeah? I'm not going to find anything...weird, am I?" Her eyes twinkled a little bit.

"What? Like what?"

"Oh, porn mags, you know..." she joked.

"Mom. No one does that anymore. It's all internet these days," I said.

"Oh, yeah, right. I forget." She laughed again. "Ok, goodnight, baby."

"Goodnight, Mom."

A little while later, I woke up from a slight noise. I opened my eyes, and in the dark room, I could just make out my Mom standing by the couch.

"Mom? What's going on? You ok?" I was a little freaked out.

"Yeah, baby-bear... I just... Well, I want to ask a favor of you, and I know it's kind of a lot to ask." She waited. "Would you mind... Cuddling with me a little? I can't get to sleep. Your Dad used to do that a lot, and.." She started crying again.

"Yes! Of course, Mom." I stood up. "It's no big deal. I can't really sleep either."

We walked up the stairs. I noticed her big, fat, beautifully shaped ass in the terry cloth moving from side to side as she climbed the stairs. We got to my bedroom.

"So... Um..." She hesitated.

"What's up, Mom?"

"Well, the thing is..." She bit her lip a little bit. "I... I don't wear anything to bed. I can't sleep wearing any clothing. It's a thing with me, since forever. Is that going to be a problem?"

HELL NO, my cock was yelling. But I was having some serious doubts about being able to ignore her naked body all night.

"No, Mom, no problem. I'll wear some sweats, no big deal."

"Well, what do you normally wear to bed? Just wear that," she said.

"I don't wear anything either. Too hot, and I don't like things wrapping around me at night."

"Oh. I see." She paused. "Well, if you feel like you have to wear sweats, that's alright, but I'm fine if you don't. Your bed is big enough, we shouldn't come in contact after the cuddling." She made me wonder if she expected me to wear sweats for that. I decided she probably did.

"Let's play it by ear, ok?"

"Ok."

She turned off the lights in the room. There was still enough light from the window to see her dimly. She turned around and took her robe off. I saw her naked ass just briefly before she slipped under the covers. I grabbed some sweats from the drawer and put them on over my boxers. I kept them on for the couch, nervous that she'd get an eyeful in the morning if I didn't.

She pulled back the covers on my side. "Come here, baby-bear." I could hear a lot of emotion in her voice. I really didn't want her to start crying again, or it might set me off too. I got in next to her.

I gathered her in my arms. She put her head on my chest. Her hair smelled so good from the shampoo and perfume she used. I was almost immediately hard, and I had no idea how to keep it from her.

She draped one leg over both of mine, as I lay on my back.

"I'm really going to miss him," she said into my chest. I stroked her hair gently.

"I know. Me too."

"Baby-bear, I need to tell you something."

"What's that?" I asked.

"Your father... Well, he was sick for a long time. And while he was sick, he asked me something."

"What?"

"He said that he was worried about me. He didn't want me to spend my days grieving, that he wanted me to be happy." I felt her tears on my skin.

"Ok..." I had no idea where this was going.

"So, I just don't want you to be upset if I start dating, so soon after he passed. He actually asked me to do it for him. I told him that was crazy, but he insisted. He said that thinking about me being alone, being so sad all the time, depressed, made him feel like a failure as a provider. He said that if I could find someone else, that would allow him to move on that much faster and easier."

"Ok. I can understand that, I guess. Do you want to date?"

"Yes, I do. He was so sick for a such long time. I got really lonely. We weren't able to be...well, intimate, if you know what I mean. And it was killing him, seeing me lonely before he was even gone."

This conversation was getting way more revealing that I was comfortable with.

"Ok, Mom, this is kind of weird. I'm fine with you dating, whatever you want to do. If Dad wanted that, then it's fine. I won't be upset."

Her arms tightened around me, and her leg moved up. Her thigh brushed against my hardness. She didn't say anything. I was able to suppress a groan. She had no idea what she was doing to me, and I felt like an asshole for being so turned on by her on the same day my Dad died. What kind of person does that?

"I'm sorry, honey-bear. I didn't mean to embarrass you or anything." Her leg moved up and down a little bit. "It's just been...so long..." Her head moved slightly back and forth on my chest.

"Mom, are you ok?" I was getting really weirded out, but more and more horny.

"Jason, you need to understanding something." Her leg kept moving. "Your father and I... We... Well, we spent a lot of time being intimate. I..." Her thigh was directly over my cock, and I realized she knew exactly what she was doing. "I need a lot of sex. I need it every day."

"Mom, what are you doing?"

She raised up her head and put a finger to my lips. "Shhhh, let me finish. Your father and I talked a lot about how I was going to satisfy that need after he was gone. And I proposed a plan to him, and he thought it was a very good one."

"What plan?" I was about to come in my pants if she didn't stop.

"Your father always wanted more children, but after you, nothing ever happened. We tried for a long, long time. But apparently you were all we could make." Her hand traced my chest muscles. Her fingers brushed against my nipple, and I gasped.

"Mom! What's going on? What is this?"

"Baby-bear, I need something from you. And I need it tonight. And I need to know you're ok with it." She leaned down and took the same nipple in her mouth.

"Oh my God! Mom! What are you doing?"

"Honey-bear, I'm making you as horny as I am right now. You see, your father wanted me to be safe, no matter who I picked after him. After a lot of discussion, we decided that there was only one person who would be safe enough for me, one person who could take on his responsibilities in this house."

She sucked on my nipple again. "One person in the entire world who could replace him."

Her hand moved down to stroke my cock through the sweats.

"You, Jason. The person I want to date — the person I want to fuck, tonight, in this bed, with the memory of your father in my heart and my mind — it's you, baby."

Her words sent me over. I started groaning and coming in my sweats. Her hand kept stroking while she felt the dampness spread through the cloth.

12
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