My Mom, Maybe Not...

My Mom, Maybe Not...

When I was eighteen, I seemed to 'wake up' and become aware of scents, smells, odors, and the change in the smell of people's breath when they were aroused.

It took me a while to realize that my Mom's breath changed radically at the slightest enticement. I was able, because of the one hundred-plus-degree temperatures of the summer, to convince her with very little resistance that we could, as long as we would stay inside, wear only our underwear.

As the summer rolled on, I trimmed a pair of my underwear to the briefest of coverage, in an attempt 'to prevent jock itch.'

Mom questioned the trimming, but within a few days of explaining to her how much more comfortable I was, she stopped wearing a bra.

When I had worn the pair I'd trimmed to the limit, her breath would change and become sweet, floral, and boldly different. I'd recognized it as her arousal when I'd caught her repeatedly licking her fingers while sitting on the couch together. I recognized her odor, or her pheromones, as 'Mom.'

It was when I noticed her watching my cock and balls as I moved around the house; she was no longer just watching; she was focused.

I decided to expose myself to her. The easiest place was the living room while we were watching TV.

We finished dinner. I had all the windows open for air circulation. I had the two screen doors locked, and the main doors open.  

The couch faced the front, and the TV was under the large bay window at the front of the house.

The couch was a three-cushion one, and we usually sat at either end to watch TV.

On this night, I sat leaning against the armrest at my end, because I was able to expose my cock and balls to her direct view. If she looked my way, her eyes would see my cock, hard, pointed, oozing, and ready. My balls would be slack and hanging low on my thigh.

I was keeping a careful eye on her. As soon as she arrived from the kitchen with her cocktail, she stopped in the doorway. Without thinking, she drank her cocktail straight away.

"Well, dammit, I chugged that down. I'll probably behave drunkenly now. I might as well have another. Right?"

"Yes, I think that is a wise move, Mom." I volunteered.

"Here, let me get it for you. Get comfortable."

When I got up to get the second drink for her, Mom watched my cock bounce to my heartbeat since it had escaped any covering at all. After I disappeared around the doorway into the kitchen, I snuck back and watched Mom fingering herself. It was so HOT to watch her. Again, she did her relay of her pussy nectar to her mouth repeatedly.

Her panties were lying on the coffee table in front of her when I handed her the drink I'd made for her. Instead of the standard twelve-ounce cocktail, I'd made her a twenty-eight-ounce tea glass of mostly tequila and a little sweet and sour mix, poured over cracked ice. I added a straw, thinking she'd drink it faster with a straw.

I handed her the drink. She immediately took a big swig, choked, and then took a second deep swig.  

All this time, she wasn't paying attention to the TV or the amount of tequila she was drinking. Her entire attention was focused on my cock. I sat closer to her on the middle cushion and reached to caress her thigh.

When my hand touched her thigh, she leaned over and swallowed my cock. Mom's mouth was magic, because I was coming immediately when she slipped her lips over the flared crown of my cock.

Mom closed her lips snugly around the crown, and saved all of the load of come I'd shared with her.

As a result, her mouth was silky and slimy, and when she slipped her mouth off of my cock, she sat up and pulled my head to hers. She French kissed me, passing the mouthful of come to me. We kissed around the growing saliva, come, and slime cud until it finally overflowed on us.  

My cock was slimy, and still erect, dark, and angry red. Mom's face was covered in slime and come. With her fingers, she scraped come and slime into her mouth like a ravenous street whore, picking up pennies from the sidewalk.

When she had me nearly cleaned off, I pushed her onto her back over the backrest of the couch so that her head was where your ass would usually sit. Her cunt was on the top of the couch's backrest where I was happily sucking, biting, and ravaging my Mother's cunt.  

I had her legs spread along the top of the couch's backrest. I held her ankles and slid my tongue, lips, and mustache from one big toe to the other, dragging my tongue along her legs from toe tip to toe tip, down through that magic slime pit across her tall standing clitoris, rimmed her butt, and repeated until she couldn't cotton to standing on her head any longer.

I always called my Mom's body mine and the pleasures it gave me mine after this, and I claimed her after any sign of her ever being horny.

Molly watched as she noticed her crotch getting wet and realized she was as wet as he was. Thinking with her pussy, she fingered herself, him, and then licked her fingers clean.

"I'm going to sit on it, Shelly," Molly whispered.

"No, Molly, I am."

I opened my eyes; Molly's pussy was about a foot in front of my face. Shelly's pussy was poised over my hard cock, and as though they were orchestrated by a famous orchestra conductor, the twin cousins lowered themselves onto me.

Heaven was two nineteen-year-old pussies warming my face and cock, simultaneously.

I, of course, ate Molly's pussy while Shelly was riding my cock as though she was a jockey on a horse.

Shelly and Molly were fondling each other. I lay on my back and held Shelly on my cock. Shelly grasped it, stroking it madly and frantically while sliding up and down on as much of it as she could fit in her cunt.

Molly was having clitoral orgasms rolling across her abdomen. She oozed her nectar into my mouth as fast as I could lap it up. And, damn, did it taste good! She was coming in my mouth, I was balls deep in Shelly's cunt, and Shelly was coming on my cock. A something-for-everyone threesome.

The TV with the Mom sucking the Son was making enough noise to cover our pleadings amongst us as we played. We sat around, they fingered each other, and took turns sucking my cock. They finally decided I would come in Molly before they left the office.

It was about twenty minutes later, when I left the office, that Aunt Vic pulled me aside and said, "I know the girls have the hots to fuck you, but you need to know that they are your sisters, so you can't take a chance on them getting pregnant."

"Sisters?"

"Yep, they are your sisters."

"Aunt Vic, I don't understand. Who are my parents? Who are their parents? Please."

"Well, Del, your Mom is not your Mom. Your Dad is not your Dad, and I am not your Aunt. Molly and Shelly are not your cousins."

"That only confuses me more. That explains who people are not, but it doesn't clear up who my Mom actually is. I never knew the man who I was told was my Dad, so I don't care about him, I think. And if you are not my Aunt, then who are you? But the burning question in my head is, "Who is my Mom?"

"Who do you think she is, and why?"

"You?"

"That's right, son." 

At first I just stared at her. Then I studied her face. I raked my eyes over her from head to toe, seeing a different Aunt than I had seen up to about a minute earlier. I knew from my nose crinkling that she was aroused, the same way I knew my Mom's (?) breath changed when she became aroused.  

Aunt Vic's had a different effect on me. I knew she was telling the truth by the instinctive memory of her smells as I was born and nursed her the first time. Something internal recognized the former connection, and suddenly we were hugging and laughing.

I had no certain knowledge, of course, but my soul knew I was looking at the woman who carried me in her womb. I knew she was my Mom.

Being the same height, when we hugged, our cheeks touched, which caused Vic to peck me on the cheek. I returned the peck, and as we held each other, we both swung our heads into a lip-to-lip kiss. One sort of like kids play. Then Vic leaned into me, hugged my hips to hers, and landed the wettest French kiss I ever received.

She squirmed her tongue around, swapped saliva, and moaned loudly as though she was having an orgasm. I dropped my hands to the bottoms of her ass cheeks and lifted her against my growing hard-on. She responded by pulling away and saying, "You are my Son. We shouldn't."

I said, "You were my Aunt. Let's set the clock back to then so I can fuck my Aunt. Maybe she will like that fucking enough to want me to fuck her as my Mom."

My cock was pointed into the waistband of her skirt, and as we kissed and hugged, it slipped under the belt. Trapped, I said, "My cock is stuck under your belt. If I pump against you, I will leave come on your skirt and shirt. If you undo the waist on your skirt, I won't."

"My God, son. Your cock is the fattest I have seen. I hated it when they circumcized you. I wanted to keep the foreskin, but they wouldn't let me."

When the belt let loose, her skirt fell to the floor, and his fingers were under her thong before the dust on the floor had settled from the skirt falling in it.

Moaning from Vic, my Mom was cacophonous in my ear. Her change in her breath caused my hormones to bloom, and we found ourselves masturbating each other and French kissing aggressively.

We arrested the advancement of personal assaults, and adjourned to the office where I fucked her while she slid around on the slime from when I had earlier fucked my two sisters.

After we had fucked every way we could on a short couch, we cuddled and agreed to do this again tonight after everyone was asleep.

Aunt Vic was my Mom. Molly and Shelly were my sisters, Mom was my Aunt, and no one was sure who my father was, because Vic worked as a stripper and dancer when I was conceived. She thought we were lucky I wasn't black, because she was a favorite among the local professional basketball team.

When she told me who she'd been, I was fingering her while fucking her ass slowly enough that we could talk.

She told me how the trauma of giving me to her sister caused her grief at bedtime for years. Eventually, the man who raised me fathered the twins, so they are actually half-sisters, sharing the same father.

Fuck, I hope they aren't pregnant.

I filled Vic full, then sleep overtook us.

So, since I had been lied to for nearly twenty years by both Mom and Aunt Vic, why should I assume Aunt Vic is telling me the truth now?

I have a Mom. I am just not positive who she is... 'My Mom, Maybe Not...'