Many thanks, once again, to tangentjoker for editing this story.
This story is about incestuous relationships. All the characters are age 18, or more.
To better understand this story, you may want to read the previous chapters.
Mother and I didn't hear from Janet for several days. We knew that their daughter, Michelle, was visiting her and Earl. We didn't call her. We thought she would be tied up with Michelle.
Janet called Mother on Thursday, at work. She asked if she and Michelle could visit that evening. Mother told her that was fine. She asked Janet if I should make myself scarce.
"Maybe at first," Janet replied, "but tell him to be available. We may need him."
When I got home, Mother told me what was happening. When Janet and Michelle arrived, I went up to my old room to do some work on the computer.
Michelle was about a year older than I. I didn't know her very well. Really, only from family gatherings. She was a pretty good looking woman. She was like a younger version of her mother. She had been married almost two years. There were no children. I wasn't clear on just what the problem was in the marriage. I assumed that this visit was somehow connected.
Aunt Janet had another daughter, Diane. She was a little over a year younger than I. She was married too, but I hadn't heard of any problems in her marriage. They had been married a little more than a year. She and her husband lived in another state, so we seldom saw them.
Mother called me to come to the kitchen after about an hour. She, Janet and Michelle were seated at the table.
"David," Mother said, "I have been explaining to Michelle that you and I have a relationship that most people would condemn. I don't think she really believes me."
"It's true," I said. "My mother and I have had a very loving incestuous relationship for some time now. It is still ongoing."
Michelle looked shocked, and at the same time as if she were about to cry. I looked at Janet, with a raised eyebrow.
"It's her husband," Janet said, "she found out he was in a similar situation with his mother."
"Aunt Janet," I asked, "have you asked Michelle about the dreams?" I used the title "aunt" because Michelle was present.
Janet looked at Michelle. "Yes, she said she has some that are similar."
Mother took Michelle's hand. "We know about the dreams, Michelle. But the real reason your mother brought you to visit us was to show you that a mother and son love affair isn't really as shameful as many people would have you think. Don't be too quick to condemn Mike." Mother was referring to Michelle's husband.
"As for the dreams, I think your mother can help you if you let her. We have been working our way through them, although the process is still continuing. Your father may be able to help, too."
Janet said, "I've already told Earl about Michelle's husband and the dreams. After Edith left Sunday, I talked to him about the dreams. I explained them and how we all had them, so he knows the background."
I watched Michelle. She looked a bit dazed. A little scared, too.
"Mom, you mean you and Aunt Mary had dreams like I do?"
"Yes," Janet answered, "and Edith too. I think we have much to tell you. Some of it will come as a surprise to you. Maybe even a shock. Let's go home and have a long talk."
Janet and her daughter left soon after. Mother and I looked at each other.
"I hope showing her our love helped," Mother said.
"So do I," I replied. "I hope she'll work her way through the problem."
It was close to bedtime. Mother held out her hand to me and we went to the bedroom. She still had her skirt and blouse on from work. She went to work on the buttons of the blouse, while I was taking my shirt off. With my shirt and t-shirt off, I sat on the edge of the bed. My mother, bare to the waist, came close to me. I drew her closer with my hands on her hips. Then on the cheeks of her ass as I rested my forehead against her mound, delighting in her scents.
I loved the fragrances of my mother after a day's work. The traces of sweat, the remains of the perfume she had applied in the morning. The soap and powder she used. It all blended for a delightful sensation.
I lifted her skirt to view the panties she wore over a lacy garter belt. She opened her legs for me. I bent to let my tongue probe at the crotch of her panties. They were damp. They tasted of her juices. They were the juices of the lust that had been building in her while talking to her sister and niece. I hooked my fingers under the elastic at the waist and pushed them down her legs. I gazed raptly at the view of her ready pussy, which was capped with the trimmed crown of brown hair.
"I want to make love like we did when we first started together," she said. "No toys tonight."
Mother wanted our loving that way about once a week. She didn't want to forget how it all began. She didn't want our love making to become dependent on things, objects, or gadgets. That night I think she was being influenced by the conversation with Michelle.
I stood and let my pants drop to the floor. I kicked them off my feet. My cock was hard and erect standing straight out. I sat Mother on the side of the bed and slid to my knees in front of her.
Her skirt was bunched at her waist. As I knelt between her thighs, she wrapped her hands in my hair. I breathed the essence of her body. Many were the scents I had inhaled earlier. Now there was the strong musky aroma of arousal. It was pleasant and erotic.
My tongue flicked over her swollen labia. It tasted the dewy drops of her juices. I slid between the lips of her pussy into the warmth, the wetness, and the heat. I slid to her clit; that hard nubbin; that center of sensation; that focus of exhilaration. I slid into her tunnel, the path to her womb. I tried to push my tongue as deeply as I could. My fingers danced at her ass, along the crack, around her anus. It added to her thrills.
As I licked at her inner lips, she started to rise to an orgasm. Her legs were over my shoulders. Thighs pressed to my face. The friction of nylon hose excited my whole body. The drumming of her heels on my back sent me to heights of erotic excitement.
I was eating my mother. I ate my mother's cunt. How I loved to please her. I felt the exhilaration as it flowed through her body in waves. How I loved to hear her cries of satisfaction, of fulfilment and joy.
I stood and thrust my hard cock into her eager pussy. Her legs were around my hips as I stood between them. She lifted herself. She held herself with her legs around my hips. I plunged into her. I stabbed her wet, eager, cunt. She came and came again. Her pleasure transferred itself to me.
My cock exploded. My cum shot from me and filled my mother. She, at the peak of orgasmic pleasure, squeezed her pussy on my cock. She milked me. She milked the last drop of cum from me.
We laid on the bed together and were kissing, touching, and petting. We fell asleep cuddled together.
