This is my first mother/son story, it was requested by another member. I never had a desire for intimacy with my mother even though she was a handsome woman, therefore it was difficult to imagine and then write this. Hopefully my effort at telling this story will be well received. The normal disclaimers are in effect, anyone engaging in sexual activities is 18 or older.
*****
In the dark of early morning I relish the intimacy we've just enjoyed. When does a widow of 59 think she will ever attract a caring, loving, respectful, handsome man decades younger than she is? As a widow of six years I'd had my share of the pump and dump dates, not that I participated in many, the implications were evident. Sure, they'd take you to a nice dinner, maybe bring flowers, buy a glass or two of wine if that was your thing, or a beer if it wasn't. Sometimes it was a dancing date where they wanted to pull you in and hump you like a dog.
It really made no difference, in the end the majority wanted one thing and one thing only, pussy. It might be the first date or the fifth but satisfying their ego and biological need was always the end goal. Shoot, even the nice ones were at times too pushy. In my six years as a widow I'd slept with a total of three men, only one of them more than once. I was feeling comfortable with him, we'd been to bed three or four times when he started being possessive, where was I, what was I doing, why didn't I let him know, it was *adios* time for me. I let him know in a New York minute I wasn't interested, he continued to call and text which I could easily ignore, when he showed up at my doorstep half in the bag, I involved the police. It only took once and he was history.
Now I lay against my lover, his arm under my head, my hand gently stroking across his hairy chest, his softened penis laying to one side, with the dim light from the bathroom I can see a shiny liquid form and drip. I notice his breathing is beginning to slow down as I push my lower body against his hip, my nether region having not been this satisfied and completely stimulated in over a decade. Not even my husband had been this good in bed, and it wasn't as though my present lover was some cock guru hung like a porn star kind of guy. He was polite, considerate, tender and passionate without being overwhelming or feeling he had to dominate, he was what this woman wanted and needed.
I leaned in for a sideways kiss and heard him say softly, "I love You."
As his eyes closed and sleep overtook him the words to an old Journey song drifted through my head.
*Lying beside you -- Here in the dark -- Feeling your heartbeat with mine -- Softly you whisper -- You're so sincere -- How could our love be so blind? -- We sailed together -- We drifted apart -- Now here you are by my side -- So now I come to you with open arms.*
I moved my right hand off his chest and lay it on my hairy mound, now matted with the by-product of our lovemaking. I notice his is matted and full of love juices as well, a shower upon waking will be a must. Moving my fingers gingerly into the crease of my sex I marvel at the fact that though we've had hard fast and climax oriented sex, followed an hour later by slow, loving, sensual, tender love making, though I'm a bit sore and my vulva are swollen, I'd open my legs for him again if he wanted me. No questions asked, simply open my legs and draw him into me. I begin to ponder and appreciate how perfect our love making had been.
The kind where you whisper each other's name, where you kiss between strokes, where your hands go to his muscled ass cheeks and pull him into your steamy playground even further. The kind of love making where your knees are bent, feet flat on the mattress to accommodate pushing up into his thrust every time, assuring maximum penetration and the euphoric feelings that evolve from that depth of entry.
The kind of love making where he has time to bend slightly taking first one nipple and then the other into his mouth where he gently sucks before pulling the tit away from your body with his lips, sending signals of ecstasy through your body ending inside the walls of your vagina. Love making that requires no naughty talk or words of erotic encouragement, love making that is felt without more than a few whispers of your name, loving endearing eye contact and a soft I Love You. The kind where your body stiffens as you climax, him pushing against your vulva with all his lower body strength as he empties his precious cargo into the depths of your overly stimulated pussy.
I felt it shoot from the end of his love cannon, his warm, thick, creamy sperm splashing against my cervix, filling me entirely, to the point I could feel it seep out along the sides of his dick, trickling downward toward my ass and the sheets. Knowing I'm well beyond the age of any pregnancy fear I ground into him, squeezing my Kegel muscles, coaxing every drop of semen he had for me, I want every bit of it inside my hungry formerly neglected vagina. We stayed that way for what seemed an eternity as he softened, his arms fully extended as he looked into my eyes, his cock eventually slipping out with a soft squishy sound.
The mixture of his cum and mine slowly ran from me, I think some call it a creampie, I called it my reward. As he lay down, he scooped me in his arm and pulled me tight, which is where I am at the moment. My older slightly droopy 34 C's feel wonderful albeit a bit tender, they've not been manhandled, or should I say lip molested like this in years, not that I haven't enjoyed it, my body simply is not used to it. It will be though, he's a tit hound and I love it.
I gently part the lips guarding the opening to my vagina, they're soft and slicker than I've ever felt them before, a bit puffy which I'm not sure if I should attribute to the level of excitement that flowed through me, or the pounding my pussy took when we started out hot and heavy. And twice ... I never imagined at my age I would go two rounds in one night with a lover of this magnitude. I slid my hand back up to his well used tool which had shrunk to normal size, even at that it was at least five to six inches long.
I remember the moment I saw it hard for the first time, I marveled at how fat and veiny it was, not to mention well north of six inches. I estimated a solid seven and possibly more, the time to measure would come about soon enough. I recall being a bit frightened wondering if a woman my age could take all his pleasure stick, it was cut with a huge helmet ready to split the tender silky lips covering the entry of my sopping wet baby cavern. The skin was stretched taut, it looked angry and ready to do damage to my tender unused kitty, I relaxed as I remembered the words he'd whispered in my ear,
"I won't hurt you ... ever."
There was a slight discomfort as he entered me, nothing of this size had been inside me for many years, in fact since college. The fat head of his dick was gently prying open the petals of my love flower, the labia opening enough to let the swollen head past and then closing tight around his shaft. The walls of my vagina were being stimulated and aroused as he went deeper, the bulbous head invading and the walls hugging him tightly. I heard him whisper, "My God you're tight." My heart swooned, a baby had passed through that channel many years ago, my late husband and I utilized our nether regions for years and still this young man whispers lovingly that I'm tight.
His cock is still advancing as I feel him nearing my cervix, I worry that I'll be too shallow when he suddenly stops, as my body adjusts, he smiles and winks at me. After thirty seconds or so I nod my head, he continues pushing in the last inch or so, I feel his balls touch my ass and I grunt with pleasure. I've taken all my lover has to give in missionary, it'll likely go deeper from behind, or in my favorite position, on my tummy, a pillow under my waist and my ass pointing up waiting to have a cock driven into my vagina. Jerrod (my late husband) wasn't a fan of that position, but I was, and he accommodated me often.