Chapter One
It had been a very long week and I was sound asleep. Having a dream, a very good dream. And then it wasn't a dream.
There was enough light spilling into the room that I could see who it was.
"Mom?" I said but she stopped any further conversation with a kiss and then in one smooth motion she was straddling me and I was inside of her and it was beyond good. It was perfect.
Now don't get me wrong. I'm no virgin. Well, I wasn't a virgin. There had been my high school girlfriend with whom I had shared the backseat of a car every Friday and Saturday night and the occasional bed when parents were out of town. I don't think I ever managed to bring her to orgasm, but I learned to get her aroused to the point she would wet through her jeans. I learned her tastes and scents, but I was always very careful to pull out and cum on her belly. No unwanted pregnancies for us.
My second was a weekend I spent with a wonderfully fat and frighteningly passionate bride's maid I met at a friend's wedding where, as a groomsman, I was paired up with her. She had flown in from some small town in Wyoming for her niece's wedding and we had, as they say, "hit it off." I spent that weekend in her hotel room learning just how damn sexy and exciting and flat-out exhilarating 324 pounds of woman can be, a detail I learned when we went to the hotel's pool and hot tub where there happened to be a set of scales. She was comfortable in her size and giggled and jiggled and encouraged me to explore her.
My third was a bodybuilder I had a thing with while we were both in tech school in the Air Force. I met her at the gym. I was working the speed bag and heavy bag, keeping the skills learned in hard hours in a dojo current. She was working her way around a nautilus machine, working every muscle group and working them hard. I figure that she might have had three ounces of body fat all told. She was athletic and energetic and before we went to sleep we would both be soaked in sweat and her love nectar. Her I DID bring to orgasm.
The fourth was a matron who happened to be the squadron commander's wife. She was 40-something and the very definition of "matronly." She was thick in the middle, heavy in the chest, and kinky as hell. We rarely had sex in the missionary position. She taught me the pleasures of an asshole or a mouth or tits pressed together or a hand or feet. It was fun right up until Major What'hisname walked in while I was balls deep in her mouth, my fingers entwined in her hair, her snorting and gagging, thick snot hanging in ropes from her mouth and my balls. I had damn near shit my pants but he just smiled and said, "I'll take it from here." I got out the back door, literally with my pants in my hand, and had orders for Shemya, Alaska waiting the next morning. I was later told she had lost a couple of teeth that night. I spent my final year in the Air Force terminal at E-4 and freezing my ass off.
So I had come home. Mom met me at the airport and she was almost unchanged except for a few streaks of grey in her hair. She had kept my Mustang and I drove home, the presets on my radio unchanged, oldies blasting, and us singing along. My room was as I had left it as well, including my now terribly obsolete computer on the desk, my car magazines still in the rack. I had chuckled and said, "well, at least you didn't turn it into a sewing room or a gym or something."
She had smiled and brushed my cheek lightly with her fingertips. "Not a chance," she had said, "now get cleaned up. I'm taking my son out for dinner."
So I had and she had.
Dinner was fun. We talked and laughed and I indulged in things chow halls don't have. The lobster was delicious. We had a few drinks at a local bar I remembered, and danced to the jukebox on the tiny dance floor. We dance well together. We should. She had taught me before my first junior high school dance and had practiced right until I went off to basic training.