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My Mother Uses Me
It was 1995 and I was eighteen. Your typical stay at home introvert, living with his divorced mother. I had a job at a restaurant; Randall’s, you can look it up. It’s closed now, but back in the day it was a pretty nice spot to eat and have a drink. I gave Mom a hundred or so a month to stay there, putting the rest into savings, except for my “fun cash” for when I hung out with my friends.
I was your typical long-haired headbanger wearing metal t-shirts. Grunge was taking over my rock and metal, but some of it wasn’t too bad. Kurt was dead and we were all still feeling it. What can I say, it was the 90’s.
I was a pretty good kid, got into mischief but not enough that the cops were called, or if they were, I was never caught. My friends and I, that is.
My Mom was a chubby girl, about 5’5″, A little over 200lbs, not too shabby in looks as far as middle-aged women go. It also helped that she had a nice pair of 34 DD’s. She never had too much luck with the guys, or should I say, the good guys, couple sleeze-balls here and there. Now that I look back on it, maybe it runs in the family, because I haven’t had much luck with women either.
My Mom had a back injury when I was little, and always seemed to keep aggravating it every couple of years. Slips, trips and falls, just sleeping wrong or pulling a muscle lifting something too heavy. She had started seeing a chiropractor, but that relief only lasted for a little while, and she couldn’t afford to see the chiropractor more than once a month.
Enter the good son, and the massage.
So I had been giving my Mom massages for a while now. She would come home from a hard day at work – or I would come home from work – and she would would be in sweats and a tee relaxing on the couch, reading one of her romance novels with Fabio on the cover.
Today I was the one coming home from work. Mom was on the couch reading. The stereo was on playing a Dolly Parton record, my mom was a country loving gal.
“Donny dear, can you give me a massage? It was really rough at work today.” She said, resting her open book on her ample bosom.
“Sure Mom, no problem,” I said.
“Wonderful!” She chirped. She placed a bookmark to save her page and set the book down on the coffee table.
Then she assumed the position. The coffee table was fitted with cushions on either end with the table in the middle. It was over one of these cushions she would lay. Her knees on the floor, her ample bottom on full display. Her arms crossed under her head to rest. Her breasts mashed into the cushion.
“Um,” I swallowed. She seemed to wiggle her bottom in anticipation. “Let me quick change out of my work clothes. I smell like burgers and fries.”
“Okay,” she said, almost dreamily as her head rested in her crossed arms.
I went to my room and shucked my clothes. I threw on my own sweatpants and a tee, and headed back into the living room. It was just another massage after all. Boy was I wrong.
The first thing I noticed is that her knees were apart and the sweatpants were snug against her cleft, accentuating her plump pussy. I took a deep breath to steady myself and walked over to the end of the coffee table perpendicular to my mothers back, and went to my knees. Like taking communion.
I began as normal, working her shoulders and neck, then down her spine. Just enough on her soft sides to be polite and not perverse. Then onto the love handles just above her hips. It was magical, watching her bottom shake and wiggle as I worked her lower back. I appreciated the movement, I had seen it time after time, so I was desensitized to it. It was just my moms butt wiggling. Then rinse and repeat, starting from the top and working my way down again.
As I began to work her lower back she spoke. “Donny?” She paused. “Is my shirt in the way?”
“Not at all, Mom.”
“Why don’t you go ahead and lift it a little, I feel like it’s in the way.”
“Okay,” I said, innocent and naive. I hadn’t had a girlfriend yet. Never kissed or touched or did anything. Sure, I masturbated to fantasies involving the other girls at school and at work. But that was all they were, fantasies. And now here I was, raising the bottom of my moms shirt to expose the soft skin underneath.
I started working my fingers into the soft skin. After a moment, there came a grateful sigh from my mom, “That feels a lot better,” she softly moaned, “Don’t you think, Donny?”
“Uh, yeah!” I was trying not to get turned on, immersing myself into the senses of touch and sight. Memorizing every curve and blemish and freckle. The texture of her skin, so soft and inviting. “I can feel the difference.” Like welcoming me home.
After a few moments she spoke up again, “Raise it higher then, get my whole back, it feels wonderful!” My Mom said. Silently I complied, lifting her shirt higher and higher, she raised her belly so more of her shirt could be moved, and just like that it was bunched around her breasts. I soaked in the sight before me for a few precious moments before getting back to work ankara escort bayan on her muscles and the innocent massage.
“You’re missing the area under my bra,” she said, almost pleadingly. I stopped my massage as I processed what she was saying. “Are you getting tired, Donny?” she asked.
“N-no. I’m good.” I then added, almost proudly, “I’m young, I got stamina!”
She wiggled a little beneath my fingers. “Then unhook my bra to get the muscles under there.” I slowly reached for the hooks and fumbled and fumbled and fumbled. “Here, let me.” She lifted herself up off the cushion and expertly unhooked her bra and the straps fell to her sides. Her shirt was still bunched up underneath her arms and she absently relieved herself of the pesky garment, tossing it to the floor. Her full breasts held the bra as she lay back down, her head nestled into her folded arms. “Get back at it, champ!”
Her bare naked back exposed before me like a painters canvas. I soaked it all as I took a deep breath. Then I dove back into my massage. I felt her soft skin beneath my fingertips, I traced her beauty marks, I fondled her freckles. Up and down her spine I worked the tight muscles.
I was hard now, I constantly stole glances at the sides of her breasts, and ground my erection into the side of the coffee table, my hips moving in circles.
“Are you okay?” she asked suddenly.
“Y-yeah, why?” I stammered, pausing only a moment in my massage, then digging my fingers back into that soft flesh.
“You’re wiggling your hips,” she giggled.
“Oh-oh!” I needed to think fast. “I was just moving with the movements, kind of getting my whole body into the motions.” I continued my massage.
“Hmmm, Speaking of hips, maybe reach down there and get my glutes.” She looked over her shoulder at me.
“Glutes?” I asked. I had heard the word before but had forgotten the meaning.
“Massage your mom’s big old butt,” she said, emphasizing it with a wiggle, still looking over her shoulder at me, reading my face and gauging my reaction.
Then I remembered what glutes meant. “Oh! Okay. Yeah, no problem.” My hands glided slowly down her back, over her love handles, to the edge of her sweatpants, then into uncharted territory. I didn’t know what I was doing, I never massaged a butt before. So I just kind of squeezed them and rolled the muscles in circles. Really just opening and closing her butt-crack, over and over and over again. I must have been doing a good job because she took a deep breath and let it out slowly, letting out these little moans of approval.
“How is that, Mom?” I asked, opening and closing her cheeks.
She gave a thoughtful “Hmm,” before answering. “Maybe the angle would be better if you were behind me. That way you’re not reaching over me. It will all be right in front of you.” Again she looked over her shoulder at me, reading my face, gauging my reaction.
“Uh, okay,” I said, still so naive. I moved behind her. I noticed that her eyes looked down to my waist before she rested her head on her arms again. Did she see my erection? Could she tell I was so hard? I looked down at my sweatpants and the obvious bulge hiding under there. I thought, “Great, she must think I’m some kind of pervert, getting turned on by his own mother.” Boy was I wrong.
Her legs were together so when I got behind her I positioned my knees on either side of her. Her plump pussy still snug in the sweatpants. Tentatively I reached out to her buttocks, grabbing them in my hands, giving them a soft squeeze, then dragging my thumbs up either side of her cheeks to the top.
This made her moan. “Right there,” she moaned softly.
So I continued the best I could, massaging her butt. Opening and closing her cheeks, running my thumbs up and down her crack. My cock was raging in my sweatpants. I needed to jerk-off so bad. Precum was making me all sticky down there. I gazed achingly at her butt, then up her naked back to where her wavy brown hair framed her neck, the bra straps at her side, her freckles and beauty marks. She wasn’t laying her head in arms anymore, she was up on her elbows on the cushion. Oh my God, what was going on!
“Honey?” She asked.
I didn’t even think about the endearment from “Donny” to “Honey,” I just kept spreading her ass open and closed, open and closed, open and closed. “Yes,” I answered.
“Maybe pull my sweatpants down, get that skin-on-skin contact that felt so good on my back.”
I looked at the back of her head. The angle was awkward for her to look at me over her shoulder so she just stared ahead. Waiting for me to comply. She tilted her head to the side and fluttered her feet beneath me.
“Y-yeah,” I spoke just loud enough for her to hear. I ran my hands up her backside to her hips. I saw her head tilt down. My finger found the edge of her sweatpants, they curled under the fabric. I slowly dragged them down over the curve of her rump. Her panties were exposed to me, a faded canary yellow. I pushed them down and down to her knees, my face inches away from those panties.
“The eryaman escort panties too!” she chirped, her head now up again. “Can’t really get the skin-to-skin touch with them in the way.”
Oh my God! Her pussy looked so nice and plump in those panties. At the edges there were beautiful curls of pubic hair. I could smell how aroused she was. I noticed a wet spot on those lovely yellow panties. I stared as time slowed to a stop for me. It looked so yummy. I must be dreaming.
Then she said so softly to me, “Take of my panties, Honey.” Her head was down again.
I reached for the edge of her panties, curled my fingers underneath, and drew them down, down, down. Down over her cheeks until her plump, juicy pussy was in view, the soft curls of hair like a little cozy nest. Down, down, down, to join her sweatpants by her knees. I just stared at the beauty of everything before me. The first pussy I had ever seen in my life, and it was beautiful.
“Massage me now, Honey,” she said softly, her head down.
I reached for her butt and felt that smooth skin beneath my fingers. I dragged my thumbs up her crack. I squeezed her butt, spreading her open, and there was her butthole! The little morsel a tiny crown over the furry lips of her pussy.
“Massage my pussy, Honey,” she said softly, her head down.
My thumbs ran up and down her pussy lips, so soft. The pussy hair rasping beneath my touch. I opened her, my mom, my mother. It was so pink and pretty inside her. My mouth hung open in awe. I opened and closed her pussy, opened and closed, opened and closed.
“Put a finger inside, Honey.” she said softly, so softly, her head down.
I listened to my mother, I was a good boy. Holding her cheeks open with one hand, with the other I entered her with a finger. I pushed it in and out. She was so wet, so juicy. In and out, in and out, in and out.
“Put in another finger, Honey,” she said softly, so softly, her head down.
I pulled my finger out. It was so wet, I brought it too my mouth and sucked on it. It was yummy, I was tasting my mommy’s pussy. Holding her cheek open again with one hand, I pushed two fingers inside her wet pussy. In and out, in and out, in and out. She moaned. I looked up from what I was doing as if still in a dream. Her head was tilted up now. Propped up on her elbows, her back arched like a cat. Which made sense, because I was making her purr. She was moving her hips against my fingers, pushing herself back against my searching digits. I could feel her insides squeezing them. She was whimpering as she fucked herself on my fingers. Then she was gasping and she slowed her movements, savoring every thrust. Slowly in, slowly out. Slowly in, slowly out. Squeezing the fingers inside of her.
I just made my mommy cum on my fingers.
I pulled my fingers out, looked at how wet they were, then put them in my mouth, tasting my Mom’s pussy.
She took a deep relaxing breath followed by a heavy sigh of relief, or maybe release. The bra straps that had fallen off of her shoulders she pulled them back up to hang loosely still. There was a silence that grew longer with every breath. I waited to see what she wanted next. I didn’t want to do something not wanted and be reprimanded. Maybe she was collecting her thoughts on what she wanted next.
“Come over here, in front of me,” she said, “I want you to massage my neck and shoulders and scalp.” She confirmed this by patting the cushion beneath her. “Come on.”
I wiped my fingers on my pants to dry them. Oh God, my erection tented my sweatpants, she would definitely see, she would know! I was suddenly very anxious. Then she folded her arms again and laid her head down. My own embarrassing relief washed over me. I shuffled over. The space between the couch and the coffee table was tight but I was able to squeeze between them. On my knees still, my calves and feet were under the couch giving me the most space possible.
I went to work. I moved her wavy brown hair to either side of her neck and started to rub the muscles their. I slowly moved my way down to her shoulders, then back up again. It was surreal. After what had just happened, we were what? Back to normal? Like nothing ever happened, or like it was a common occurrence? I didn’t know what to do or think, so I just kept going, enjoying it while it lasted. I gazed longingly at her back, at the freckles and beauty marks. The curve of her buttocks, her motherly hips.
“Don’t forget my scalp, Honey,” she said softly.
I took her head in my hands and started to rub her scalp. There was the sound of my fingers rasping through her hair, and I was reminded of the sounds made when I was massaging her pussy. Then she tilted her head up. I paused.
“Keep massaging my head, it feels good,” she said. So I did.
As I massaged her head she began to move it side to side slightly. Then I heard her inhale deeply. Oh God! My erection! She was so close it.
She again propped herself up on her elbows. “Keep going,” she said, “On my head.” So I did. I massaged around her temples, etlik escort down behind her ears, at the base of her skull.
She reached forward and gently but firmly grabbed hold of my hips and pulled me towards her until my sweatpants and the leaking cock beneath was touching her face. My cock was touching my moms face! She moved her head from side to side again, rubbing my cock across her nose. She inhaled, again and again, smelling me, smelling my own arousal.
My massaging grew less and less focused as I was bewildered as to what was happening, and to what might happen.
The hands on my hips crawled up to my waistband and her fingers curled under and pulled them down, down, down, freeing my aching cock. It stood out long and proud from its thatch of pubic hair. My sweatpants went down, down, down, to my knees. Just as I had done to her minutes earlier. She inhaled my scent again, rubbing my cock with her nose.
“You smell so good, Honey.” she said softly. Then she rubbed her cheek against it. “It’s so warm on my face.”
“Thank you, Mommy.” My hands were just holding onto her head now as she moved her face back and forth against my cock.
Then I felt her tongue on the tip, tasting my precum. She hummed approval. She licked the tip again and again, like a cat and milk. My mind was lost in the sensations she was giving me. Then she opened her mouth and took the tip inside.
“Oh God! Mommy!” I softly cried out. I couldn’t help it anymore. She sucked on the tip, nursing on me. Then she took more and more of me in her mouth, and I was pulled into another whole world. Her warm, wet mouth swallowed me, tasted me. Her head bobbed back and forth on my cock, going down to the root, her nose being tickled by my pubic hair, then coming back up to the tip, up and down, up and down, up and down. My hands were still on her head. Not guiding but holding on, holding on for dear life. I didn’t last long with all of the delicious foreplay and fingering from earlier. I swelled inside her mouth.
“Momma! Momma! Momma!” I gasped out as my orgasm was pulled from the center of my being. “I’m gonna cum, Momma! I’m gonna cum!” I shouted. She kept her mouth on me and continued to suck and suck and suck.
“Momma! Oh, Momma! I’m cumming! I’m cumming! I’m cumming!” I growled out, holding her head as I came in her mouth, gasping. She took my essence in her loving mouth. I came and came and came. So much flooded her mouth. My Momma was so good to me, I heard little swallowing noises as she took my seed into her belly. I filled her tummy.
I fell back to Earth once I was drained, and Momma let my spent cock slip from her lips.
“That was nice wasn’t it, Honey?” she said, getting up off the cushion of the coffee table. I glanced down at her pelvis and was rewarded with the view of her lovely hairy pussy. Then she reached for her panties and pulled them up, hiding her center from me. Then repeated the motion with her sweatpants, hiding her panties from me.
“Nice?” I said, dumbfounded in post orgasmic bliss. Then regained my thoughts. “Yes Momma, it was very nice. Thank you.” I said politely.
“You’re welcome, dear.” she said, standing up, and reaching behind her to rehook her bra. I stared at her breasts as they wiggled so slightly in the confines of her bra. “And thank you for the massage. Can you hand me my shirt.”
Snapping back into reality I looked down for her shirt. “Uh, yeah!” I found it and handed it to her. “Here you go.”
“Thank you, Honey.” She tugged her shirt over her head and breasts. “Get yourself proper, I’ll make some dinner.” She said.
I looked down at myself and wondered how my pants got down to my knees. What just happened? Did all of that just happen? To me?
Mom walked into the kitchen and I shuffled my legs from under the couch and pulled my sweatpants up. I think I was in shock. I got up and headed to my room. I saw that the stereo was still on, sometime during the massage the record stopped. I didn’t even notice Dolly had stopped singing. I turned off the stereo and went into my room.
I laid in bed going over and over in my head what had just happened. It was supposed to be a simple massage. One I had done dozens of times before. Then she changed the script and I massaged her bare skin, slowly undressing her. Then I fingered my Mom and made her cum, then she sucked me until I came in her mouth. I was hard again.
“Dinners ready, Donny!” Mom called from the kitchen. I looked at the clock, I had been lost in my thoughts for over an hour.
Dinner was chicken and rice. The small talk was about work for that day. After dinner I helped Mom clean up the dishes. Then she went to the living room to watch TV; Roseanne or maybe Walker, Texas Ranger. I wasn’t sure what to do, I was always awkward with women, I still am all these years later. So I just went to my room to listen to music and reread some comics I still had in an old shoebox. I was just trying not to think about what happened. But it was the pink elephant; you tell someone not to think of pink elephants and that’s all they can think about then, pink elephants. My pink elephant had a nice round bottom, and nice full breasts, and pretty yellow panties, and a beautiful, plump, hairy pussy. A hairy pussy that squeezed my fingers. And a lovely, hungry mouth that ate me up until their tummy was full.
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