A Craving For Mother

Even as a young boy, I had a power, the power to make people dislike me. It was probably because I usually had a smart- ass comment for everyone. It makes it difficult to make friends. I read a lot, and that gave me more ammunition, and that made me less friends, and then I read a lot more. I did have one friend for a while, Drew. He had more of the power than even I did. But after the eighth grade he moved away and I was pretty much on my own, except for mom.

I spent almost all my hours in my room, with the books, TV, and video games. I went places with mom and she didn't seem to mind after having giving up on trying getting me to make friends. We lived in a mostly rural area in a town of less than a thousand people. Once you get a reputation in a town like that, you're done. Everyone knows everyone and everything. My father left early and I didn't miss what I never knew. But I was pretty much okay with it all.

High school was different. I wanted to fit in, but for four years I had limited success. I had some acquaintances and went out with a few of the girls a few times, but nothing ever developed into anything. I'm still not sure if the unusual sexual attraction I felt for my mother made me disinterested in the high school girls, or the disinterest of the high school girls made me attracted to my mother. Whichever came first, there it was. I had it pretty bad and I knew it.

Her name is Emily and when I said it, it brought moisture to my tongue. And the sound of it went around in my head whenever I got turned on. And when I looked at her, I had the sensation that I was touching what I was looking at. It took a while to accept it, but by the end of my senior year, it pretty much filled my psyche, and my pants, when I was around her.

I was alone with myself until I met Eddie. The chances of my meeting a guy like Eddie Mella were pretty slim, but sometimes the higher odds come in. We were lab partners in Biology and we discovered in each other, a person to talk to. We had other aspects of biology in common also. That became evident after the track meet. It was a full day event away from school grounds. Mom had to work, but Eddie's mom came. We participated in some events and sat together in the stands. Afterwards, we went out together to the local diner.

The next day I said, "Your mom's very nice...and good looking."

He gave me a strange smile and said, "Thanks." He hesitated and said, "Do you like older women?"

I said, "Yes."

I think the directness of the question and answer led us both to realize we were on the same page even before he said, "Me too." He stepped deeper into the murky waters of our inclinations when he said, "You know something, I think my mom is good looking too." All this might be innocent conversation without any subtext had we both not felt the way we did. It took a while, but step by step we talked until we admitted to each other that our interest in our mother's was sexual. For me, finding someone else who felt that way was such a relief. Maybe I wasn't crazy, or if I was, at least I wasn't the only one.

And then Eddie Mella blew my mind. The story he told me was unbelievable, but I believed every word. After sharing his confidence we became close. Eddie had paperbacks that he lent me that fed my fantasies. He knew every good web site and all of it ramped me up. He sent me an amazing video on the computer. My head swirled with imaginings of Emily, Emily doing all those things with me.

It was the video that sparked the forest fire at home. I was pretty confident leaving stuff on the computer because mom hardly ever used it, and when she did, it was only for e-mails. So when she yelled to me, "MATTHEW...WHAT IS THIS?" I came into the room and saw her looking at Eddie's video." Fuck. How could that happen? Later I realized that I hadn't deleted the temporary files and when an e-mailed opened the media player, Eddie's video was the last thing played. She hit 'Play,' and got an eyeful.

Mom said, "What is this Matthew, I've seen that woman, who is she?"

I hesitated and said, "It's Mrs. Mella, you met her once when we were getting gas." She happened to be at the next pump and Mrs. Mella said hello since I was at her house so many times. I introduced her to my mother and I guess she remembered her face.

"Who's that boy?" mom said. "She was having oral sex with a boy!" She didn't recognize Eddie since he had only been to my house a time or two and video wasn't exactly professional quality, but there was enough there to knock mom out.

I said, "He's not a boy mom, he's almost nineteen."

She asked again, "But who is he?"

And then, because at some level, I wanted to say it, and I wanted her to know it, I said, "He's Eddie...her son."

Mom covered her mouth and her eyes went wide. She said, "My God, he came in her mouth."

Not that I was thinking straight at that time, but later when I thought about it, I realized that my mother must have watched quite a bit of the video, because it started with them fondling and kissing and it took a while before Mrs. Mella went down on him. And she had to be looking very close because there was some kind of glitch when he came, and only a few seconds where you could see that she had some of his cum on her chin.

I had watched it so many times that every image was seared into my memory. The way Eddie took off his mother's bra and cradled her tit, sucking on the nipple as she threw her head back with her eyes closed, enjoying his attentions, the way he touched her pussy as she squirmed and called his name. I'm hard thinking about it again, and I got harder every time I watched it, and wished that it was my mother who was naked, and sucking on me, just as Mrs. Mella was sucking on her son Eddie.

Mom said, "That's terrible...disgusting...what kind of people...?"

I said, "Mom, you don't know what a tough life they've had. Eddie told me, his father beat her, mom, he burned her. Eddie got crazy one day and went at him with a big glass ash tray. He told me that he left his father a bloody mess. They ran away and ended up here, a thousand miles from where they started."

"What happened to his father?"

I said, "They figure he was okay because they never found out anything about him going to a hospital or to the cops."

"Were they sleeping together, is that why that whole thing happened with the father?"

"No," I said. "Eddie told me that the first time he slept with his mother was at a motel, the night they ran away. They were scared, and all they had was each other. He told me that after that, they realized that they loved each other and that it wasn't only about sex. I told her the outline of story the Eddie had told me, leaving out the sexual details which I couldn't enough of. I said, "He really loves her mom, and that got them through some really terrible times."

Mom was quiet for a minute and said, "Well, I don't know, that's their business...but why would she let him make this thing, and why do you have it?"

I said, "Mom, she let him make it because he wanted to, and she loves him. And Eddie showed it to me because he trusts me and I was the only one he could share this with...and do you know what mom?"

I stopped, even when she said, "What?" because I wasn't sure I was ready to say any more.

But I did, I said, "I'm sorry you saw it, and I feel like I let him down by being so careless, but he showed it to me because he knows that I don't find it terrible, and I don't find it disgusting, mom, like you do, and because he knows how I feel."

She said, "I only meant...I didn't know the situation, but still, a mother and her son...it's not right." She didn't ask me about what I feel.

I didn't say anything, but what I was thinking was that I couldn't imagine anything better than a boy being in his mother's mouth. Except of course for what came later on the video and that was the best thing I could imagine. Because if mom had watched to the end, she would have seen Eddie inside his mother's pussy and she would have heard her crying out "Eduardo, Eduardo...aieeee...si mi amor, mi amor," in a voice so saturated with love and desire that I could feel it just thinking about it.

I said, "I don't think you can say it's not right for them, that's for them to decide."

Mom seemed a little shaken and as she got up and left the room she said, "Well I don't want to talk about it, and I can't understand why you would watch something like that." She didn't stay around for my answer, which would have been something like, 'Because that's what I want to do with you Emily.' Of course I wouldn't have had the guts to say it then.

I was sorry mom had seen the video, but I wasn't sorry that things were getting into the open. The more Eddie and I talked, the more I wanted mom. I became more explicit in my feelings towards her. On a day when she was wearing a V-neck tee shirt that showed some cleavage, I said, "Mom you look hot." I rarely remarked on what I saw but it was having an effect on me.

I saw her catch a glimpse of my bulge and then look away. She became uncomfortable and said, "Matt, you shouldn't say things like that to me."

I said, "That's ridiculous...okay fine."

She said, "Matt, I'm not Mrs. Mella."

I said, "Don't I know it, she loves her son."

I regretted the words even before Mom said, "That's a terrible thing to say."

I said, "I'm sorry, I know you love me, I just want..."

"Oh Matthew, I don't know what you want."

I said, "I want to love you mom."

"I want you to love me too, but not in that...dirty way."

I didn't say anything and she said, "I don't mean dirty, it's just..."

I said, "You do mean dirty and it's not mom, it's love, I can't help loving you that way."

She said, "That's not love, what they're doing...that's incest."

I said, "Mom, we're not talking about Eddie and his mother, we're talking about me, and you. You can call it what you want, and just because you're my mother, does that mean I'm not supposed to feel what I feel? Mom, If you're attracted to someone, there isn't that much you can do about it; if you get hard when you're around that person, there isn't much you can do about that either." I couldn't believe how out in the open it all had become, but it was a relief to say the words. I said, "Mom maybe it's better if I move out." Even though the college I had started was within commuting distance, I knew I could share a room in the dorm.

Mom said, "I don't know what to think anymore. " She covered her mouth and I could see tears starting to form.

I got up to leave and touched her hair and said, "Don't mom, I'm not going to talk about it anymore." And I wouldn't have, but the faucet broke. And that changed a lot of things.

We were on our way to Home Depot to get the new faucet and we took her car. Coming off the rural road from our house, a car ran a stop sign and mom swerved into a wooded area hitting a small grove of trees. The airbags deployed and for a few seconds all the possibilities flashed in my mind. The jolt knocked the wind out of me and I was out. The next thing I heard was mom calling, "Matthew, no, no, Matthew..."

I saw her in a state of panic and shock and said, "I'm okay mom." Actually I wasn't sure; I hadn't really taken stock. I knew it hurt where the seat belt had held me and probably kept me from going into the windshield. I said, "Are you all right?"

Mom said, "I'm okay baby, oh God...I thought...THAT BASTARD..." She screamed the curse at the top of lungs, and then collapsed into tears. Whoever was in the other car was long gone. I had a hard time getting mom's door opened before getting her out of the car and hugging her. Looking at the car, I couldn't believe we were both standing there; it was a mangled mess.

She cried in my arms for a few minutes as I comforted her, and when she stopped, she didn't move away. Her breathing moved her breasts on my chest. She held me tight enough for me to feel her contours. I got hard. She stayed. I kissed her neck. She stayed. Her hips moved almost imperceptibly against me. I put my hand on one of her breasts and held it as I kissed more of the neck she exposed to my lips by tilting her head back.

And then she just looked at me. She closed her eyes and said, "Oh God." She pulled back and took a deep breath as she reached into the car to get her bag. She called the police from her cell and we spent hours with forms, details and calls. We were within walking distance of home and mom didn't want to accept the ride home from the police. She'd had enough of cars for one day.

Mom had a drink when we got home and couldn't stop talking about the accident and what might have been. By late evening she'd had a few too many and said she wanted to go to bed. I stayed up and watched TV. About two hours after she went in, I heard her calling my name. When I went into her room, I could see from her eyes that she's been crying. She said, "Matthew, can you sit with me a while; I need to be near you right now, I'm sorry."

I sat on the bed and said, "There's nothing to be sorry about, we're both okay; there's nothing to worry about."

She said "Shut the lights please honey; I must look horrible."

I turned off the bedside lamp and said, "You look fine." And she did. Look, my mom wasn't a kid, she was forty years old. Her tits are big enough, but they wouldn't stop traffic, and if you're a guy passing her in the street, you'd probably think, 'Nice looking,' but you wouldn't turn your head three times to check out her ass. But somehow the whole package just worked for me – I was turned on.

When my eyes adjusted to the dark, I still couldn't see much. I felt her hand on my arm and she said, "Talk to me Matt."

I said, "About what?"

She said, "It doesn't matter." So I told her about school and what I was planning to take this semester and that I had definitely decided to live at the dorm. All the while she stroked my arm and then she took my wrist and put my hand on her breast.

I said, "Mom..." and she pulled me down to kiss her. It was a sweet kiss of longing and regret.

When she said, "Oh Matthew," I could hear her conflicted emotions. I kept kissing her and fondling her over her nightgown until I couldn't contain myself. I put my hand under the material and took hold of her bare flesh. It felt wonderful to feel the weight of her full tit. The skin was soft and that contrasted with her nipple. I could feel the small bumps around the tip when I circled it with my finger.

I kissed her for a long time and when I stopped, I said, "I love you Emily."

As I took off my clothes, her response of, "I love you Matthew," was almost tearful. She let me take her nightgown off and our flesh met. What my eyes couldn't see, my fingers and hands told me. Her ass was smooth and firm, her pussy was moist and velvety. She had a patch of hair above, and her folds were unprotected.

She touched my cock. I was so hard in her hand. She whimpered my name as she stroked from under my balls to my shaft and then moved to go down on me. I could just make out a sight that one day before would have seemed impossible. My cock was in my mother's mouth. And as she began sucking on the spongy knob, I thought of how many times I'd imagined it happening, and how many sons had imagined their mothers doing this to them, and how surreal it was that it had come true for me. I reached for her tit and I was gratified that her nipple was erect. I massaged her tit-flesh through my fingers as she took more of my shaft into the wet warmth of her mouth.

Amidst my excitement I had a sense of relief that I was in the mouth of the woman I wanted. It was as if I had been holding my breath for years and could now exhale. I said, "I love you mom; I love you so much."

Her head bobbed and she made small noises each she slowly took me to her throat. When she started I thought I would come quickly into my mother's mouth. Strangely I relaxed into the rhythm maintained control. After a few minutes, she stopped sucking and came up to embrace and kiss me. Her kisses were passionate and her tongue moved endlessly in my mouth. She reached down and took hold of my straining cock and rolled me on to her. I raised myself to give her room to place me at the entrance between her legs. We both moved.

The first contact of our sexes caused the same reaction from both of us. As I pushed through the soft folds, and pressed against the grasp of my mother's pussy, we both went, "Ohhhh..." With gentle thrusts, I inched into her until I was ensconced in her channel. I started to stroke her and she said, "Mathew...Mathew...you're inside me!" and it sounded as if she was about to cry.

I felt guilty. I thought to myself, 'Is this what she really wants or am I forcing my mother to have sex with me?' The repercussions flashed through my head and I stopped pushing into her and said, "Do you want me to stop mom?"

She whimpered and said, "No Matthew, I don't want you to stop."

I was so relieved. I pushed into her and said, "I love you mom."

She didn't answer but softly moaned, "Oh..." after each time I pushed into her pussy. It felt good that mom was wet and getting wetter as I stroked her. The full length of my shaft was now penetrating with each entry and she was responding with her hips. I looked at the place where my mother and I were joined and could just make out my cock being swallowed into the place I had thought my mother would never give to me.

It wasn't the kind of sex that you fantasize about or read in stories where the woman keeps saying, 'Fuck me with your big cock,' and then has twelve orgasms. For me it was even better. There was love with the passion. I felt it with each entry into my mother's pussy, from both of us. She held me tight every chance she got. And each time she pushed me deeper into her center and said, "Matthew, I love you," in a plaintive voice filled with her confusion over what she was doing.

Besides her low moans and my soft long 'Ohhh...' each time I pushed into her, the most evident sounds came from the improbable wet connections of a sons cock moving in and out of his mother's pussy. And then I stopped.

I had an overwhelming desire to eat her pussy. I pulled my wet shaft out and she said, "Matthew?" I didn't say anything and slid down to lick the satiny skin over her opening. Breathing hard she said, "OH...no..." I don't know why she said 'No' because she held my head in place and writhed as I used my tongue to separate the folds and lift the hood that covered her clit. The nub felt swollen and engorged as the tip of my tongue explored it. I loved the delicate taste of her. The sounds of my mother's sexual pleasure were unfamiliar to me and as she gradually lost more control, I got more excited, if that was possible.

My mouth explored every inch and angle of mom's pussy until I settled on working her clit. Taking the swollen center of sensitive nerve endings between my lips, I sucked and licked it until she started a long loud burst of, "OH, OH, OH, OH..." I loved how my mother came in my mouth, with her back arched and her long moan of passion and satisfaction filling the dark room. I kept sucking until she was completely finished with her spasms and shuddering.

I was so hard and ready to fuck her at that moment; I couldn't have waited another second. I moved up and firmly kissed her. I took my cock in hand and placed it at the opening she had exposed by spreading her legs. I pushed all at once and sunk into the depths of her body. She cried out, "Ohhh Matthew," as I plunged into her depths. I was so anxious to take her and come inside her, but I also wanted to stay in her long enough for her to come too.

I finally understood what Eddie was talking about when he described what it was like to have his mom because I wasn't just watching; I was the son who was inside his mother's pussy. And as each inch sank deeper between my mom's legs, the pleasure of knowing where I was ran over me. I was in her body, with her wet flesh wrapped around me. I slid in and out of the moist channel. I tried to maintain a controlled rhythm that would bring us both up slowly. At one point I withdrew and placed my shaft over her clit. I moved as if I was still inside her and the friction across the nub made her take shorter and harder breaths. It all came out as "Mmmmm...Mmmm...Mmm..." She did that until it sounded as if she was about to come. I put my cock back into mom's pussy and I gave her long, strong, hard strokes that were almost out of my control. They were the kind of penetrations as you approach orgasm that feel the best; the ones you wish would never end. And then there were those last exquisite few that took me deep into my mother's center right before the explosion.