Mom's Halloween Treat

If you're old enough, you might remember a time when toilet paper was so plentiful we'd use it to prank people we liked and disliked. Most often on Halloween. My mom was a teacher at a local middle school and there was always a risk that our house would be teepeed on Halloween Night. Hey-- Just between you and me, I had always wondered if that name came about because of the initials of toilet paper, or that when it was finished, it vaguely resembled the nomadic Native American dwellings. But I distract myself.

I had earned a semester off from college. Not in a good way. While my first semester got off to a good start, I crashed and burned on my second semester. I barely pulled out almost passing grades in my core engineering class, but couldn't recover my math grade and the required freshman literature class was a total failure. The assistant engineering dean had pulled me aside and professionally suggested I 'get my shit together' before coming back to school and wasting my parents' money.

He was right.

And I didn't want to run into her.

She was my first real girlfriend. The first girl who had ever kissed me long and hard, with a tongue in my mouth making out sort of way. The first girl who had ever let me touch her boobs, even if it was on top of her clothing. The first girl who had ever touched me... down there; even if it was on top of my pants. And the first girl who had ever manipulated me so thoroughly into doing her assignments for her at the neglect of my own responsibilities. She hinted that there was more for me, if I just did a little more for her. I was smitten. I was in love. And I was a fool. At least she didn't have me buy things I could not afford for her, or do anything illegal. Although who knows what I would have let her talk me into had our relationship continued and she showed me a little more or let me do a little more.

It all ended when I had an unexpected gap in my schedule and I decided to surprise her by bringing her assignment to her at her dorm room. I was slightly disappointed at the potential loss of alone together time when I ran into her roommate in the lobby; but her roommate could escort to her dorm room I was excited to surprise her by getting her homework to her early. It turned out I was the one surprised. Just as her roommate slid the key into the door, we heard my girlfriend loudly beg for her lover's cock yelling that she didn't care if he had a condom or not. Her roommate was mortified. And it left me in a putrid puddle of self-pity for the remainder of the semester. And hence the lecture by the dean.

The demeaning words of my father calling me a failure at every chance over the summer didn't help me get over my heartache. It didn't matter that I never told him or anyone else why I had bad grades, just that I did. I guess the bright spot there was that dad wasn't home all that often. He drove truck and was away from home more than he was at home.

Throwing myself into my part time warehouse work helped some. But only some. It was menial labor and gave me too much time to think and chastise myself for being such an idiot. Mom encouraged me to enroll in the community college. As I said, I never told anyone, but I think Mom kind of knew what happened. Mom never pried. She'd be quietly supportive in other ways after one of dad's rants. She'd ruffle my hair when he was out of sight or kiss the top of my head or touch one shoulder and drag her fingertips to the other as she walked by. That last thing always gave me shivers.

This semester at the community college was focused on making up for some of horrible grades. Part time. A lighter load. No Engineering classes. So far, so good. If that was successful, and after knocking some of the other courses I needed to repeat, I'd start working through transfer credits in the spring while making saving up money while living at home for my eventual return to college. Otherwise, I'd need to start looking for another part-time job or see what the community college had for trade schools.

So that's how, at 20 (my birthday was two weeks ago), I happened to be at home, alone with mom on Halloween. My younger sister was off at her friend Samantha's house for the night. A sleepover with the girls. I could go on about how I had crushed on Sammy for a long time, and how my crush became even harder when Sammy got huge boobs and a reputation as a fast fuck. But my sister and quashed my acting any of those feelings; how Sammy needed a big brother and a guy who she could trust; that we weren't right for each other and so on. I sometimes wondered if the two of them conspired just to tease and frustrate me as after don't even think about it from my sister, Sammy would give me full on hugs mashing her massive boobs into my chest or arm and gush about how she wished she could have a boyfriend or big brother like me. But she did have a big brother and the rumor was that he was her first. Which I guess was OK because they were only step-siblings, but still pretty weird and oddly arousing. If she'd do that with him, then...

See... I get distracted.

Halloween fell on a Friday this year. I had stopped by school on the way to work to help mom take her classroom decorations down. She was going to take them home and put them back in our collection. By the time I finished my half shift getting the trucks ready for Saturday deliveries, Mom had put away her classroom decorations at home and outdone herself at home this year. The inside of the house was festive. The outside was even more impressive.

Mom had added new touches to the walkway and entry decorations this year. The little signs along the path were cute, Hansel and Gretel themed. Cobweb material stretched out artfully. A dry ice caldron was on the side of the porch bubbling away. A fake wooden crate hid the ice chest with more dry ice. She had added hanging bats this year that had motion detectors that would squeak when someone walked underneath.

It was unseasonably warm this year and I wondered if mom would opt for a different costume, but her witch costume was impressive. In order to keep the kids from school from recognizing her she had a witch's mask that covered almost all of her face, with the long, hooked nose that almost touched her chin. Mom used makeup adhesive to keep it in place around her mouth and eyes. With green and black shadowing around her eyes the transition was seamless. Mom had repurposed her graduation gown from a couple of years ago when she got her Master's degree and advanced teaching certificate into a tattered witches robe. Mom also had the classic tall, pointed, and crumpled witch's hat that hat its own long grey hair. At 45, mom had a full head of curly, light brown hair that she had tucked up and out of sight.

At not even an inch shorter than my 5' 11" Mom was kind of tall for a woman. Of course, any other observation of mom's body was lost when she would answer the door hunched over with a cane, the flowing robe, and a crackly voice. To the rest of the world, she was unrecognizable.

It was a little after 9:00 when I got home. The street was crowded with trick-or-treaters and their parents, so I couldn't park near our house. I parked across the street and down one house from the Troutman's, our next-door neighbors. There was a waist high hedge row that separated the Troutman's property from ours. I really didn't love that hedge, probably due to the fact that I had to trim it every month or so now that I was staying at home. But there it was there and with the kids on the sidewalk, I stepped a little ways off the sidewalk, standing in the Troutman's flower bed behind the hedge to watch my mom at work.

Up at our porch there were two girls. I'd guess that the oldest was just barely middle school aged dressed in a Raggedy Anne doll costume. Her little sister who might not even been in grade school was obviously Andy. They were so cute. Even as a 20-year-old guy I could admit that.

And my mom was over the top in her witch character. I could hear the cackle from across the yard and stopped to enjoy the show from my almost hidden vantage.

Mom stirred the caldron, and said to the older girl. "Hello Ms. Rachel. I have been expecting you. Did you come for tricks or treats?"

Clearly the girl did not recognize Mom from school. The Rachel girl was shocked and shaken. Big sister's reaction obviously had an effect on little sister who had been fidgety and distracted as they came up to the house. The little girl suddenly froze and stared at mom. I couldn't see from my angle, but I am sure that Rachel's little sister's eyes must have been the size of saucers.

Mom dropped in another chunk of dried ice which made the pot bubble more. The long fingered, wart covered latex gloves helped mom handle the ice without it sticking to her skin. Mom stirred the pot and looked into the steamy vapor as if reading portents of the future.

"I see you struggled with Mr. Schafer's assignment."

My mind went back to my time in Junior High as we called it back then. Mr. Schafer had this horrible assignment where he got us to list everyone in the class we know based on how we knew them. He used this to assign us partners for a team project. He always paired everyone up with the person in the class we liked the least. Leaving them off the list was almost a guarantee to be partnered up with that person. Everybody struggled with Mr. Schafer's assignment.

Rachel, the older girl was totally shocked that Mom knew about that. Mom's disguise was good, but I didn't think it was that good. Or the girl was kind of dense. Or the Halloween orange porch light kept her from figuring it out. Poor Rachel never even got the words "Trick or Treat" out of her mouth.

And then Mom turned to the little sister and cackled. "I see you brought me a sweet little treat for my oven. You will plump up nicely."

To be fair, Mom didn't actually call the little sister fat, but dressed up in the rag doll costume with overdone rosy cheeks she did have that comic chubbiness about her. Looking at their mom standing with their dad at the sidewalk, I see where she got it from. The parents were animatedly talking to each other and oblivious to the drama unfolding on the porch.

It was at that moment when my mom's words sunk in to the little sister. She fell backwards and sat right down on the porch. The candy bar in the hand that she wasn't holding on to her sister with went skittering across the porch. And she just sat there for a comedic pause two-beat. Whether it was the loss of the chocolate bar, the words Mom said, losing her sister's grip on her hand, too much sugar, or just falling down, the little girl just started bawling. Not crying just a little bit, but 'the world is ending and I'm going to die horribly and can't do anything about it' wail. People walking in the street paused and turned their heads. To me, it was so over-dramatic it was humorous. But I'm sure the shocked parents were not nearly as amused as I was.

Mom was clearly mortified. Something about being a teacher and protector of small children just snapped Mom into action. Mom switched to her normal voice as she tried to soothe the poor child. I think it made things worse. Softer, gentler, and so quiet I could not quite make out the words from across the hedge.

I wasn't sure what I needed to do, but I could tell it was time for me to help. When I stepped out of the flower bed and back to the sidewalk, I saw the parents were still frozen in place. Clueless, trying to figure out what changed so fast. I wasn't sure if I should walk to them or cut diagonally across the lawn.

That's when the stage two disaster happened.

Mom was explaining and trying to show the girls that she wasn't really a witch. Mom pushed her hat back and took off her mask. Maybe the act of peeling off the mask was like removing skin. Or maybe that in the weird glow of the Halloween orange porch light. But even from across the lawn I could see the strings of glue and blotches on Mom's face. That wasn't helping. Mom has a much rounder and cuter face than the mask presented. Still, the black and green eyeshadow and the stringy adhesive streaming away from her cheeks and the blotchy spots was the stuff of horror films.

At least it must have seemed that way to the Rachel girl. The older sister had been staring at mom in a mixture of horror and disbelief until the reveal that mom was one of her teachers.

And then that realization hit her like a ton of bricks. Betrayal. Her teacher was a witch.

Rachel's scream was unlike anything I had ever heard in my life. Loud doesn't begin to describe it. A fire truck siren is hundreds of decibels quieter. And the pitch was amazing. It started high. And then doubled. And then doubled again. While it was still at the edge of human hearing there had to be harmonics that caused the dogs three streets over to join in the commotion with their barks and howls. Along with every dog at every house in between.

And the scream didn't stop.

I don't think she breathed.

I don't know how she could have.

It just kept going, and going, and going.

Everything in the world was in slow motion.

The whole neighborhood stopped and turned to see who was being murdered. I trotted the rest of the way across the lawn. The parents ran up the driveway and got to the porch first. Mom continued to try and soothe the children.

Pandemonium.

Mom unclipped her pointed green ears.

Bedlam

Mom struggled but eventually pulled off her gloves.

That didn't help.

Their mother was busy trying to figure out what upset the Rachel girl. I don't think Rachel and inhaled yet, and the screech was not showing any signs of diminishing.

I was close enough now that I could hear the dad call the little sister "Hunny Buns" as he reached down to pick her up to comfort her.

Those were not the words to use.

At this point the little girl was sure her dad was going to help this scary witch lady throw her in the oven. Her own wails got louder in a weird counterpoint to her big sister's scream. She scrambled backwards away from her father to stay out of reach. Then she saw me and before her father could react, the little sister scrambled over and practically jumped into my arms. Fortunately, the scramble had gotten some of the chocolate bar that the little girl was wearing wiped off on the ground and she only got a small amount on my hoodie.

Eventually the Rachel girl had to take a breath. And the sudden silence was deafening. The adults were still trying to sort out what had happened. Rachel tried to explain but had now reduced to sobbing so hard she couldn't talk. She just kept pointing at mom and occasionally her little sister. Every gasp in of air demanded another and no words could get out in between. The little sister had a death grip around my neck and was nothing but sniffles and runny nose at this point. I tried to pry her loose and give the little sister back to her father, but that was not going to happen.

Mom was apologetic. Their mother was dividing her attention between her oldest daughter and the other adults. The father was losing patience with his oldest daughter, and was exasperated with his wife for some unknown reason, and clearly had no idea what to do about his littlest child in a stranger's arms.

This went on for what seemed like forever. Then, as Mom was trying to explain for the who know how many iterations what had happened, mom took off her hat and shook her hair out. It was like every shampoo commercial everywhere. It had been up under the hat so that it wouldn't show through the wig. When her hair came down, it sort of rolled down to its full length, and bounced and swayed back and forth, the normal light brown glistening red in the orange porch light.

The father noticed that mom was much, much younger than he assumed. He clearly decided he was pretty. I watched him stand up a little straighter and square his shoulders. His whole posture changed. I was disgusted. He was preening like a stupid peacock. In front of his wife and two sniffling children.

I passed the little sister to her mother and stepped on to the porch properly. I put a possessive arm around mom's waist; which Mom offhandedly acknowledged with a "Hello Sweetie." That was enough to deflate the dad's puffed out chest and follow his wife who was towing the two girls down the driveway.

When they got to the bottom of the drive way and resumed or started a new argument, Mom spun on her heels and announced, "I need a drink!" I opened the door and let mom in, not only being a gentleman, but mom had all of her costume stuff in her hands.

I let the storm door close, but left the front door open and followed mom into the kitchen. Mom unceremoniously dumped the costume parts on the kitchen counter top.

"I'm making myself a Rum and Coke. Do you want one?" Mom asked.

That was new. I was being offered a whole drink, not just a sip of one. At 20, I was not technically old enough to drink.

Through the open front door and the closed storm door I heard the sounds of new trick-or-treaters approach the house and then the doorbell rang again. I was already on my way when Mom hollered at me to get that. I asked where my tricorn hat and eye patch were. Mom hollered back at me that they were in the bin closest to the door. They would go well with the horizontally stripped t-shirt I had worn to work.

After two successive batches of trick-or-treaters I got back to the kitchen to find mom sitting at the breakfast bar sipping a drink with a couple of ice cubes floating in it. There was a matching one on the countertop closest towards me.

Mom looked elegantly disheveled. Her cheeks were a mess with the glue and make up, smeared a bit where she had rubbed some of it off with a paper towel. However, the green and black makeup around her eyes made her eyes shine like emerald gemstones. The robe was like a long black dress draped off her lap. Her hair still had that shine to it, although it was less red in the normal light and clearly messed up from the hat and the wig. Mom robe had been pulled up to so that she could sit at the kitchen bar stool and that had her exposed legs crossed at her knees. I realized at that point, that with long legs, pretty hair, and her bright eyes that my mother was pretty. Really pretty.

Mom pushed my drink to me and I took a sip. It was... interesting. It didn't taste much like alcohol, nor did it really taste like Coke. I kind of liked it.

Mom and I looked at each other for a moment and then started cracking up. The situation was ludicrous. In between laughs, Mom wondered if she'd have a job next week. I scoffed at that, and said that I don't think they knew who she was.

The doorbell rang again and I was off to see the next batch of trick-or-treaters.

Over the course of the next hour, perhaps made easier through the use of alcohol, and the frequent interruptions of trick-or-treaters, Mom was able to drag the story of what happened at college out of me. She was alternately sympathetic and angry and used the word 'bitch' several times. That was a little shocking because Mom seldom swears. There were several times when Mom seemed genuinely surprised at my naivete' and lack of worldliness. She remarked how incongruous that was because I've filled out and grown into a good-looking man. During the conversation (conversations?) she'd often remark about my being grown-up or handsome with her hand on my chest which gave me a warm feeling. I kind attributed it to the horizontally stripped shirt which worked well as an impromptu pirate costume. The shirt did emphasize that the physical work at the warehouse had done me some good that way, putting a little definition in my chest muscles. But given that I was raised to be modest, I dismissed mom's complements, even the time she yelled 'cute butt' as I went to answer the door again.

Embarrassing.

The cops patrolled down the street sometime a little before 11:00 reminding us over the loudspeaker of the curfew and sending the kids home. By then, the steady stream of trick-or-treaters and diminished to a dribble. I came back to the kitchen and mom had got off her stool and was putting things away in the kitchen. She had made herself another drink and asked me if I wanted another. I was feeling very warm, a little bit sleepy, and thought that was funny. I told her that I would pass, but I might take a sip or two from hers if she didn't mind.

She agreed as I responded to what I hoped was the last trick-or-treater. This time, on my way to the door she asked if she could borrow one of my shirts from the laundry room. The laundry room was just past the kitchen. It was closer than the bedrooms, but it did strike me as kind of odd. I said she could and I went back to the pouch and tried to give away the last Mounds, Almond Joy, and Licorice ropes.

When those kids left, I surveyed the remaining contents of the candy bowl and noted that the last of the peanut butter cups (my personal favorite) were gone. I looked up and down the street and didn't see any other kids about. I brought in the props, shut off the porch light, and locked the front door. The shock I got when I returned to the kitchen was as strong as the shock I got at school.

Only different.

A lot different.

Mom was facing away from me and was pulling her gown off over her head. Her panties were totally exposed. As was her back. And if I didn't stop her, I would see her bra next.

But I was as frozen as a deer in headlights. No one in this house ever, ever was out of the bedroom or bathroom in just our underwear. I might have tried to peek at my sister, and definitely tried to perve on Sammy at any chance I got. The truth of that was I never got the chance. I was always so cautious that it never happened.

But never mom. She was... Mom.

I couldn't move. I couldn't make a sound. I couldn't even look away.

Because, well... I couldn't. I had to take in everything. My first chance at seeing a woman in her underwear. If I had to go back and categorize things the first think I noticed was that Mom was anatomically different than me. OK, well duh. Of course she was. But what I noticed about the black panties that she was wearing was that her hips were wider and higher than mine. Standing at the kitchen island, the top of her hip bones which were very obvious in the lacy top waist band were above the counter top. Mine would not be. Were her legs that much longer than mine? They had to be, because I was taller than she was.

That meant I looked at her legs; critically. They were long and elegant. They were bare and uncovered all the way up to her black panties. The muscles and joints were smoother, softer. Graceful even. The swell of her calf that came in slightly before her knee and then back out for her thighs. As I have said, mom was tall, but she was also a kind of a big girl. Not skinny, waifish or frail. Her thighs weren't tiny, but they gracefully met up to her ass. Almost. There was a little bit of ass cheek that escaped the bottom leg hole of her underwear. Just this little swell of skin that my brain said, 'that's her ass, not her leg.' And so it was. And it was good.

And then there was this part where her legs came together. It was flat there. Like there was space for boy parts that weren't there. But it wasn't really flat. There were two soft, round bumps and the underwear was sort of stretched between them, like the web over her ass crack up to almost the small of her back.

And above that was her bra. White. Lacy. Mysterious. Forbidden. The band around her back was wide. It became more exposed as the gown went up and up over her head. It was connected to straps that I followed with my eyes as the hem inched higher and then exposed her shoulders.

My mom had freckles on the top of her back. Her shoulders were round and smooth. The straps I had noticed went up from the wide strap across her back and disappeared over the font. I felt I could move when the gown completely covered my mom's head as she pulled it off. Now was my time to run away. I could go back towards the front entry hall and pretend I wasn't in the room as mom was undressing. Undressing in the kitchen.

But I couldn't. I saw one of my mom's boobs. Part of it anyway. Sure it was encased in a white lacy sheath. But it was a boob! Round. Conical. Or like a bullet, maybe. A melon in a sling? It was what the girl at school kept hidden and secret from me. I only had a glimpse of part of it. Only the side of it. Only for a moment. She then turned squarely away from me. Reaching for my folded shirt she had brought out and set on the counter. I watched her put my shirt on as smoothly as her gown came off. Yet covering up seemed faster and I was somehow deflated or lessened for that.

Mom turned around and started folding up her gown as if she had known I was there all the time. And it was no big deal. Or maybe she didn't know. I don't know. I do know that I was holding my breath and I had to breathe out slowly without mom knowing that I was holding my breath over what I had just witnessed.

Mom smiled, and said. "I hope you don't mind me borrowing your shirt. I missed you while you were at school. I used to borrow your shirts and wear them. They smell like you, and it made me feel close to you even though you weren't here."

We put the last of the kitchen stuff away took mom's costume parts and my pirate hat and eye patch to the bins near the front door. We did a moment of organizing there, shuffling things from one bin to another, making room for the stuff outside that we would bring in tomorrow. I couldn't help but look at mom across the bins from me. I had never had the urge before, but now I wanted to peek down my shirt to see if I could see her bra and confirm that her breasts were as big as I now thought they were, but the collar was too tight and no such gap appeared. But with subtle inspection, I convinced myself that mom had a significant chest. Even under the shirt, I could tell, now that I really looked. Mom's breasts may not have been bigger than Sammy's, but rivaled the only other pair that I had any experience with. In fact, I was almost certain Mom was bigger.

When we were done, mom grabbed my hand and led me to the bathroom. She said she wanted to talk to me while she washed off her make up. Mom had been talking and leading the conversation as we cleaned up, so it seemed natural. But in the bathroom there was no place really to sit, so I sat on the wide counter and talked with Mom as she washed her face. I didn't do much talking, mostly just listening, and trying not to stare with to figure out my new puzzle regarding mom's breasts. Mom went going on how it was so difficult to be a young person, not quite an adult and no longer a child. Rules and expectations conflict with each other and themselves. You're told to behave one way and the people who tell you that do another thing. Mom apologized for sheltering me and holding me back.

I scoffed at that and told her I didn't feel repressed in any way. Just a little behind my peers, I was moving at my own pace. I was grown up, just lacking experience. Mom handed me the drink glass which was about 2/3 empty. Her fingers lingered as they touched mine as she handed me the glass. Here fingers were warm and the glass was cool with condensation. She had moved so that she was no longer directly in front of the sink but had shifted closer to me and her hip was leaning up against outside of my left thigh. The hip that was taller and wider than mine and connected to her ass. "You are so mature and so sweet, you are going to make some woman so happy."

When she let go of the glass and started combing her hair, she rested her left hand on top of my thigh. I couldn't help but notice the soft circular strokes she made. I noticed the loss of warmth where my mother's hip was no longer pressing against my thigh when she stepped back and switched hands to brush the hair on the other side of her head.

When she was done, mom stepped up between my thighs. I felt her hips covered by her panties and my old shirt touch the inside of both of my knees. It was warm where we made contact. I traded the drink for the hair brush which she and handed me to put in the little jar where she kept her brushes and combs. When I turned back, mom was reaching up her shirt behind her back. She arched her back kind of thrusting her chest at me. I tried not to stare and wondering if mom had an itch on her back and was about to offer to scratch it for her when she softly said to herself, "I got it."

She then leaned forward and moved her hands to the front of her shirt. Mom then rolled her right shoulder towards me and the bra strap fell out of her shirt and down her shoulder. She did the same with the other side of her shirt so that both shoulder straps were hanging down around her bicep. Taking her hands out of her shirt, she pulled the straps one at a time down her arms and off her hands. The next thing I knew she handed me her bra and asked me to hang it up on the towel rack on the wall next to me.

I could barely move. I held my mother's bra in my hand. It was warm. Some parts were soft. Other parts were stiff. There was a raised lace pattern on the outside of the cup part of the bra. I had felt that with my college girlfriend. There were also some stiff wires where the cup part joined the wide strap underneath. That was the strap I had seen behind mom's back.

I wanted to touch it. To smell it. Just to hold it. But mom was right there. I was excited and I was embarrassed. I was right in front of my mom. Holding her warm underwear. And shit. I did what I asked and looked back at mom.

She grabbed and lifted one boob with one hand outside her shirt and I could hear her fingernails on the other hand scratch the skin underneath her shirt. She let out a contented sigh and then switched to the other boob.

I stared. I'm sure I looked like a fish out of water with my mouth wide open.

Mom smiled at me and then she sighed. "There is nothing like letting the girls out after a long day. But when you get to be my age the support is needed to keep my boobies off my knees."

Mom said it so naturally, like, "It's Tuesday" or "We're having fish for dinner." I had no idea what to say to that. I had no idea if I could even speak. Mom never talked about her body -- not even aches and pains. Sex talk was left for school health class. Even her underwear, or my sister's were kept out of sight. Mom's bemused smile caused by my shocked reaction grew warmer and more sympathetic.

Mom looked at me, gently put her hands on my shoulders and said, "It pains me to think that some woman took advantage of you. That she took advantage of someone sweet and innocent. It's not fair and it's not right. That was a horrible situation. I think you need a good experience. You need to gain some experience and confidence. I think I can help."

Mom took a deep breath and asked, "Did she ever let you touch her breasts when she wasn't wearing a bra?"

I couldn't speak. I just shook my head.

Mom gently grabbed my hands and placed them on her breasts.

Oh... My... God!

Mom did this. No warning. She just placed my hands over her tits!

This was so different than with the girl at school -- Not firm tightness trapped in elastic. Mom's breasts were soft and warm under the shirt. The moved. They were alive. I could squeeze them gently. I could lift them up as she did earlier. I could squeeze them, push them to the side. Put my hands underneath and pull them too me. I did all that. For how long? It seemed both a moment and an eternity. I rubbed them in the same direction and opposite directions. Mom's breasts were amazing.

Mom's breathing through her nose was strong. Like sighs, like pants, like something in between. She whispered, "They're more sensitive on the ends." I moved my fingertips to the ends and found mom's nipples. They responded to my touch, getting firmer, changing shape.

It was affecting mom too. Her breathing through her nose sped up and got noisier.

I not really paid attention how it was affecting me when mom slid her hand up my thighs. That snapped my focus from her breasts to my own crotch. Mom gently stroked my cock with back of her knuckle, running from the base of my zipper up past my head. Immediately I had grown to the point that my dick was uncomfortable and was still growing so much it was threatening to bend itself in half and break as it was trapped in my pants.

"Did she ever give you a proper hand job?"

I had no idea what a proper hand job was. The girl at school had just stroked the outside of my pants a couple of times until I came inside my own pants. Mom didn't wait for an answer and reached up and undid my belt and unsnapped my pants. My eyes must have been bigger than that Rachel girl's little sister. Mom let out a small amused chuckle. As she unzipped my pants, Mom said, "I guess by your reaction, that she didn't."

The pressure relieved by the zipper opening was a wonderful release. And at the same time brought a stiffness and anticipation like I had never known before. She pulled my work pants down my legs, I rocked one butt cheek to the other to help. My pants and my shoes ended up piled on the floor somewhere kind of near the dirty clothes basket.

Mom looked at my throbbing cock, barely contained within my briefs. Then mom licked her lips and said, "I'd bet she only promised a blow job."

The girl at school did say something vague about that. That she had something special in mind for me at the end of the semester. She had stuck my finger into her mouth and sucked on it and then pulled it out and told me keep waiting. I said nothing imagining the implications that might be behind mom's words.

Mom looked at the memories run through my head and said, "I though as much.

"I don't make promises like that, that I don't intend to keep. You will get one. And soon. But not just yet."

Mom stepped away from me and said "And she never showed you her tits, did she?"

Without warning Mom's hands crossed in front of her grabbing the hem of my borrowed shirt. And then they were over the top of her head exposing her breasts. They sort of fell from the shirt and bounce on her chest. They were smaller than a cantaloupe, but not by much. They were like teardrops, narrow at the top and swelling round at the bottoms, full. Her nipples and the circle of skin around them were the color of her lips.

Mom cupped her hands underneath them and lifted them up off her chest and extended to me. For a moment I didn't realize what she was offering, but then she said, "You used to be so hungry for these as a baby. Your sister was not so interested."

And then I knew. I leaned forward and took a nipple in my mouth. Mom sighed. I sucked and tonged and then switched to the other and repeated the exploration with my mouth. They tasted like her skin. They felt amazing. Mom's breathing was fast. I think she liked it too. Mom muttered, "I'm almost sorry I don't have milk to share with you after all these years."

I released my suction and straightened up and looked at mom. She had a contented smile on her face. She pulled me across the counter closer to her and embraced me; chest to chest. She whispered, almost breathed in my ear, "I miss the feeling of touching skin on skin."

And then she whispered the words that almost made me cum right there, "If it's OK with you, I'd like you to fuck me."

She gently pulled back and looked at me. Quizzical, seductive smile. I looked at her and nodded, but because I couldn't believe it, I asked, "Really?"

She nodded back and answered with the one word, "Really."

Then she leaned forward and pushed her panties off so that she was totally naked in front of me.

This was at a time when not every other woman shaved down there. There was an inverted triangle of hair pointing down her abdomen between her legs. It was darker than the hair on her head. There was more, but mom was talking.

"Of course, if we do this, we can't ever tell anyone about it. OK?"

I understood. I was not going to jeopardize this opportunity. Even if it was with my own mother. Maybe especially since it was my own mother. And yet it didn't seem that weird at all. Not as weird as Sammy and her step-brother.

"Then, let's take your pants off. Mom reached forward and grabbed the waistband of my briefs. Using my hands on the counter top I lifted my ass off the countertop as mom slid my briefs forward. But my underwear was caught on my engorged dick. Mom brought her hands up and gently extracted my dick from my underwear.

"Oh, this looks yummy and I haven't done this for a while." Mom murmured as she leaned forward. The next thing I felt was mom's warm, wet mouth engulfing my cock. From a light kiss on the tip of my head, to wet firm lips sucking it into her mouth, feeling her tongue swirling around it as she pulled it deeper into my mouth, stopping only when I felt her nose in my public hair. It was the most incredible amazing feeling I had ever felt on my cock. It was only because it was so overwhelmingly mind blowing that I didn't cum at that instant. Mom bobbed her head up and down a couple of times as she pulled my underwear the rest of the way off and dropped them on the floor at our feet.

Like a sloppy kiss, mom pulled her face back and my hard cock felt both amazing and disappointed. If this was what a real blow job began like, what would I have done for the girl at school. I had to have more. Mom, you can't stop now. I tried to get my brain to make my lips say the say those words that were screaming inside my head.

She straightened up and looked at me. "There'll be time for that later. I want your first cum tonight to be in side of me."

Fuck. What did she just say? My brain is exploding. First? More than one? What the fuck!?! What?!?

Mom stepped back from the bathroom counter and tugged gently on one of my hands she still held. I hopped down with my cock comically bouncing up and down with enthusiasm. I slid off the counter and looked at Mom.

Naked.

I would do anything she asked.

In truth, he boobs sagged a little, they were not perky pointy cones pushed up and out by lying undergarments, but gentle teardrops whose round parts were bigger than an handful. Tits that had nipples red and swollen with excitement and glistening with my slobber. A waist that was nearly as wide as her shoulders and hips, not the hourglass of the classic nudie girls I had found in dad's magazine until he beat me within an inch of my lift three years ago. There was a little pooch to her belly, but my mind took it in as just feminine softness. The bush of fur above and between her legs would be considered primitive by today's standards, but it preserved the mystery.

When she turned, opened the door into her bedroom with one hand, I could see the beginnings of cellulite on her very soft ass. Not the boy ass of somebody like Taylor Swift in her young days. Not the huge caboose of Cardi-B. It was an ample ass. Meaning comfortable enough.

My cock bounced and slapped against my abdomen as mom waled towards the bed. When she bent over to pull the sheets down, I was given another surprise that almost made my heart stop.

I had no idea that when women bent over their pussy is accessible from behind. But there it was. Those soft mounds that shaped her underwear were there, but between them and protruding downwards were two wrinkley lips like the color of the ones on mom's face or the nipples of her tits. And they curled out a little, like the petals on a flower. And there wasn't much hair there. Her round globes of her ass made a heart shape and that was at the center of it. The act of bending over, made her ass more round and smoother. There was the little star of her anus above it was puckered but a tiny hole and not as interesting as what was down lower.

That was her pussy down there between her legs.

Of course it was. It had to be. It was why people had sex 'doggy style.' I had never considered or imagined such a thing. In stead of helping mom with the sheets, I just stared at her pussy. When the sheets were turned down mom looked at over her shoulder at me and smiled and asked, "Enjoying the view?"

It was a wonder my brain had not exploded and splattered all over the ceiling. I nodded. Mom continued, "We'll try it that way later, but we'll start out with Missionary because I want to see your face when you cum in your mother's pussy."

I had no idea mom knew those words.

And she must know the meaning.

And we were really going to do this?

Mom spun over onto her back and lay down on the bed with her head on the pillows. She pulled her feet up so the heels almost touched her ass and tipped her knees apart exposing her crotch to me. Right there at the bottom of the hair and between her legs were the lips I had seen peeking out from between her legs when I looked at her from before. But there was more of them. The soft mounds on the outside, the irregular soft scalloped curved lips turned out on the inside that was smooth and glistening with moisture. Mom reached out to me with her arms and there was no question where she wanted me.

I crawled up between mom's knees; for some reason careful not to touch her with my engorged cock. At face-to-face she kissed me. She pulled my face to hers and kissed me. Her mouth was all over my face, my eyes, forehead, nose, cheeks and back to my to my lips. Our tongues danced past each other.

Mom's hands slid off the back of head and down my neck. She rubbed my shoulders, pausing our kissing enough to marvel how broad my shoulders had become. Hardly room enough between us as her hands moved down my chest and momentarily played with my nipples. But only for a moment. It was like she was on a mission.

And then I felt her hands on my cock

.

Mom murmured that "this is what she was looking for."

With one hand she maneuvered my cock between her legs. I didn't know that with the other she was spreading her pussy open. She lined Tab A up with Slot B and said, "Now push. Push your cock inside mommy's pussy. Gently though. It's been a while."

The words "It's been a while" rang in my head as I began to press my hips and my cock forward. Did that mean that she and dad didn't do this anymore? Impossible to imagine with as beautiful as mom looked. But all thoughts and questions disappeared as my entire focus became centered on my cock and the sensations I was feeling.

I felt a wetness on the end of my cut cock. There was a slight resistance as I moved forward. But mom had lined me up true and with a little more effort the head of my cock was though and in her pussy. My brain screamed, 'the tip of my cock was inside my mom's pussy!' as if I didn't know.

Mom gasped.

"Are you OK?" I think I surprised us both that I could actually speak.

"Yes. Yes. Keep going." To encourage me mom grabbed my ass with her hands and flipped her ankles behind the backs of my thighs and pulled me closer and further in. My cock slid into my mother's pussy, millimeter by millimeter, inch by inch. It was if her pussy was slowly recognizing me and welcoming the intruder in bit by bit.

Mom moaned, and hissed "Yes" again as I slid further and further inside.

I stopped when our bodies came together. Hip to hip. Pubic hair mingling. My waist on her. My chest against her breasts. My face close to hers.

"I'm inside you," I breathed, almost afraid to say it any louder to break the spell.

"You're inside me," Mom agreed in the same way.

And I was. The first time my cock was inside a woman. And it was my mother. And I could feel the snug warm wetness around me. It was heaven. The senses were overwhelming. This was incredible.

Mom asked, "Are you OK?" I don't know if she was asking if this felt good. It felt unbelievably good. Was she concerned about the fact that this was incest? This felt too good for me to even think about that at the moment; here and now was heaven. Did I feel bad that I was taking something that belonged to dad? It sounded as if she and dad hadn't... It was my turn now. Mom was giving herself to me. What could I say?

"I love you Mom."

"I love you too sweetie."

Those words. The motion of our breathing. The overwhelming stimulation of my cock in a pussy. My cock in my Mom's pussy. It started with the familiar tension in my testicles, but stronger, deeper than anything before. It was a boiling in my balls. I started deep and took control of my body. I wasn't in control. Every muscle in my body tensed. My asshole hurt.

Without warning I exploded. My field vision which consisted entirely of my mom's lit with the soft light spilling from the bathroom door at our feet became a flash of white, fading to red, with my mom's features imposed in it in a darker shade of red. The sound became a crescendo of silence. I could hear nothing.

The only thing that registered was the stream of my seed bursting forward out of my cock and into my mother's womb. Gush after Gush. Not the little spurts that came when I jacked off. But huge quantities in pulses that never quite ended. It was like trying to shut off a garden hose by pinching it, but there was too much. More than I had ever felt. I was cumming and cumming.

I was cumming in my mom's pussy.

My hearing was coming back.

"Give it to me. Give me your seed. Give me all of your seed."

Mom was encouraging me. Her hands were stroking my back and my ass. Rewarding me. Giving me approval.

I tried to give her more. My body understood the motion of fucking even if my brain did not. Clumsily I started pumping with the last of my surges. As they faded, it was too little too late, but it felt good.

And my body knowing it had achieved the act it was designed to do began to relax. I knew some how that even though my cock was full and long inside my mom's love canal that if I pulled back too far, I would fall out. It was her pussy that kept me in and full.

And the question she asked if I was OK rolled back in my mind as my senses took in what else was going on. I could feel her pubic hair and mine touching. My belly on hers. My chest mashing down on her breasts. The sticky sweat of our skin holding us together. Our faces so close we were almost trading breaths. The sounds of our pants returning to almost normal breathing with my weight crushing down on my mother. And a pungent smell I had never know. Sharp. Like sweat but different. Like my mother's scent, but different.

"Are you OK?" I asked my mother.

"I am very OK."

"Am I crushing you?"

"No, you feel perfect in every way. Stay where you are. I want to feel you inside me for as long as we can."

And I could feel my cock betraying me, getting softer. I wanted to stay inside her forever. I was in my mother. I had cum inside my mother. She wanted me inside her. I was inside her.

Yet, it was if my shrinking cock was reminding me that what we had done was wrong, that mother's and sons don't fuck. And I had just cum inside my mother.

"Mom, I just came inside of you!"

She squeezed me tighter, and purred, "I know."

"But you could get pregnant!" My cock was surly shriveling at this realization, but was still held inside my mother by her warm, firm, wetness.

"Ahh, you're sweet for thinking of me. But that ship sailed after your sister was born and my tubes were tied."

Well, I guess that was OK. I wasn't ready to be a father yet. Something nagged. There was something else. My mother. She said she was OK, but was she? Really?

"Mom. I'm sorry I came in you."

"Don't be. I loved it. Why are you sorry you came inside of me?"

Those words gave my cock another surge slowing it's withering for just a moment.

"So soon. I came too soon. I don't think you had an orgasm. Did you?"

Those were the wrong words. Mom started crying. "Oh God. You are so precious. So sweet." She took a breath and wiped her nose on my cheek. "It's OK. No, I didn't cum. But that's OK. I loved it. It feels so good to have you in side of me. To be this close. This intimate. I expected it, really. That it would take long for you to cum. Even if you never told me, I knew it was your first time."

"I was your first. Your first time inside a woman. Your first time to come in side of a woman. And it was me. I was the one. I gave this to you. And this makes me feel so good. It doesn't matter that you came so quickly."

Mom rolled us over so that she was on top of me. My cock literally popped out of her with that moment. I heard the sound, but felt it more. Mom gave a little involuntary gasp as that happened. The inevitable separation caused by our movement and my deflating cock. Then she slid down my body, crawling backwards, dragging her erect nipples down my belly and thighs. Kissing my neck, my chest, my nipples, and my belly.

When her face was even with my cock, Mom looked up at me and smiled. She grabbed my soft, swollen, slick cock with her hands and pointed it towards her mouth.

"And we have all night to learn what makes us feel good. Trick-or-Treat!"

And she sucked my hardening cock into her mouth.