I have been somewhat diverted from continuing the chapters. After reading some reviews asking for a continuation, I have refocused my attention.
I could write chapter after chapter of the times that mom and I were intimate. In previous chapters I wrote about the unusual happenings, so with this chapter we will jump a head quite a few years to show how things deteriorated and became a bit stressful. Mom had retired and moved near us so she had to be at least 62, but I think we can add a year or more to that.
I was talking to the neighbor lady by my chain-link fence and looked up to see mom coming down the street. If she had taken the bus, there would have been two transfers to get her to my street and an estimated time of two hours. Needless to say, I was quite taken aback when she told me she had walked from her apartment to my house. It was closing on 3 o'clock and she told me she had left her apartment around 11 o'clock. I estimated the distance at close to 8 to10 miles. It was a hot July day, which concerned me even more.
"You walked here!" I exclaimed. I could tell that the neighbor lady was quite concerned also. "You walked across the bridge! What could you possibly be thinking mom?"
"No big deal." She answered nonchalantly. "It was a nice walk and it's not all that hot out."
Mom had answered nonchalantly but she did not like to be criticized and I could tell she was becoming upset.
I have written earlier that mom was fit as a fiddle due to her walking. What I did not know at the time was that mom was in the beginning stages of dementia and possibly Alzheimer's and in the coming months she would walk from sunup to sundown, some kind of syndrome, which took me quite a while to discover.
I left mom talking with the neighbor lady and reentered the house. Mom followed me in within a few short minutes.
I wore my usual summer attire of cotton, elastic waist shorts and a T-shirt. I was barefooted. Mom had on a lightweight skirt and a light shirt, which had three buttons at the top. Her shoes were her usual flats and she wore a large brimmed straw hat.
"Mom, you have done some silly things but this tops them all." I exclaimed facing her in the living room.
"I haven't seen you since Monday! Where the hell have you been?" She challenged.
"It's only Wednesday for crying out loud." I said. "I told you I would probably be over Friday."
"I thought it was later in the week. Perhaps Friday! That's why I was wondering where you were." She defended. "You damn well come over whenever you want some ass! You don't think I get tired of waiting for your schedule. I came all this way to get me some sugar and you want to argue with me."
I glanced at the clock.
"Mom, it's five after three! We can't be doing anything so late in the afternoon." I tried to reason. "There's no telling when Della will pull in the driveway."
Mom turned to walk into my son's old bedroom just off the living room. She turned, and while looking at me, reached up under her skirt and removed her panties.
"I expected to get here earlier but that didn't happen." She said with determination. "I dressed for the occasion and you damn well better get in here and take care of me before she does pull into the driveway. After that I don't care what you do."
I left the wood door open as I turned the lock on the storm door. I scanned the area and no one was out on the street, the neighbor lady was either in the backyard or back inside. I could feel the bulge beginning in my crotch. But I made a decision I was not going to fuck mom this day.
When I returned to the bedroom I saw mom laid back across the bed her ass on a towel with her knees high and spread wide, her feet flat on the bed. I stood staring at her pussy. Her panties lay partially hidden under her left buttock. Even at her age with a thinning bush, her pussy was mesmerizing to me. My cock was at full attention and pushing against my thin cotton shorts. Her ample belly showed very little pouch. For a woman, or a man for that matter, a lot of flab can disappear when laying flat of her, or his, back.
I was anxious but her pussy was more than I could stand. As I bent over the edge of the bed, I knew I could hear if a car pulled up. I placed my hands on the outside of mom's thighs and put my tongue to her pussy. I began lapping and probing but quickly concentrated the tip of my tongue on her clit. The aroma of her pussy was not offensive but was indeed strong from the workout of walking all that distance.
Her moans did not start right away but were soon coming steadily. I placed my left forefinger to her hole and teased her briefly before sticking it into her. The humping of her ass was instantaneous and her moans soon changed in tone and pitch, telling me she was losing herself to lust.
Numerous things were coursing through my mind. Number one and foremost was the chance that my wife would pull into the driveway. Worst-case scenario was for me not to be aware of it. If time allowed, and under normal circumstances it would, I had decided to wet my dick in mom's pussy. I would be taking a chance getting balls deep into her pussy knowing that there was a slight chance that my wife would be in the mood to fuck this night. For some odd reason, Wednesday was the average.
Added to the list was my mother acting strangely. Walking for near four hours with intentions of getting her pussy a little TLC. I could not dispel the thought of her saying she too needed a little TLC. The old lady still desired my tongue, which had been her choice to orgasm for some time. Her continued sexual desire was the reason why our incestuous relationship had continued. It was meant, in the beginning, to last just over two years but mom discovered that she liked a good orgasm, addicted really, when she was not being suppressed by a man's thumb. I often wondered if she letting me stick my cock in her was just a means to an end.
Then there was the competition, in her mind only, between her and my wife. I suppose, I did not help, complaining, truthfully, that I was not getting the amount of pussy I thought proper and, not so truthfully, that her pussy was much better than my wife's. The incestuous lust had always been a plus, making her pussy seem like the best. And there was a time when mom could hold her own in the clutches, fucking me with more passion than my wife could muster, but I still continued to tell her, her pussy was the best.
Her breathing transitioned to huffing and puffing alerting me to her nearing orgasm. I eased up on her clit to flick it with a feather-light caress, as I often had to keep her suspended, causing the orgasm to hit like lightning. Her ass quaked and shook, as did the excess flab on her thighs. She had taken up hollering upon reaching orgasm and it was loud. Her body finally relaxed and she lay breathing heavily.
I stood. It was only a matter of pushing my cotton shorts down to release my raging hard on. Stroking my cock, I moved to the window and looked down the street. Moving back to the bed, I took hold of her thighs and pulled her ass to the edge the bed. Mom looked at me knowingly. I moved in close between her thighs and with little ado I poked her pussy, found her hole easily and pushed into her. I cradled her legs in my arms and began an aggressive rhythm.
Things were still running through my mind. How daring I had become. It dawned on me that I could have easily put my mother off until I drove her home after dinner. I could have called my wife with some lame excuse making sure she was still at work. Long minutes ticked by. My mother used to urge me on with sexual banter and role-playing. Now, she just lay there grunting each time I shoved my cock deep. With no verbal encouragement in the light of day, coupled with the stress of discovery, I finally gave up. I could not reach orgasm. On the plus side, I would not have to worry about my mother cleaning up or walking around, her panties constraining my cum.
Mom began making the meatloaf that my wife was going to cook, making my wife quite happy when she did walk through the door.
