Author's note -- some of this story contains scenes of homosexual activity
***All characters in this story are of legal age
How may I describe it, falling in love with my mother?
Of course, I've always loved my mother, but as a normal son should - with his heart and soul, not his body. Mom's beautiful, smiling face, with its wide mouth, full lips, and gleaming, hazel eyes never failed to warm my insides. Her arms, always eager to embrace, held me tightly against her supple body for as long as I can remember. For the entirety of my childhood, my mother represented a cocoon of nurturing warmth and support, the keystone of my world. I could not have been more content.
But now, something had changed.
As I remember, it started during adolescence, when I began to notice the opposite sex in a different way. At school, girls my age had developed curves and breasts, making my curiosity run amok. Even the younger female teachers didn't escape my attention. Soon, I was examining their bodies so much, I often lost track of the lessons.
"Billy," Mrs. Nelson repeated, breaking my concentration on the pair of erect, perfectly separated boobs staring at me, "do you know the correct answer or not?"
Snapping to attention, I blurted out, "Fifty-two!"
"Correct," Mrs. Nelson replied, leering at me slightly as she turned away, her round ass swishing toward the blackboard. She was correct in assuming I was not paying attention to her Algebra lesson. I was no dummy, though.
The first part (or parts) of the human anatomy that fascinated me were nipples - mine, and others. Breasts, too, but nipples, at least on me, were pleasurable to touch. I was amazed that I hadn't discovered them sooner. So obviously accessible, they were, and so much fun. Alone in my room, I would run my hands over my bare chest, pleasuring in the sweet sensations that it created. Eyes closed, I rolled the hard tips between my fingers, sighing as I imagined Mrs. Nelson's full, lush mounds.
My first sexual fantasies centered on breasts and, not surprisingly, sucking nipples. My best friend, Mike, introduced me to his stash of well-worn adult magazines purloined from his uncle. Within those wrinkled, stuck-together pages, I discovered the beautiful, erotic artistry of the nude female form. My favorite women, I soon discovered, were the plump ones, with full breasts and large areolas. I eyed their tits like succulent fruits and, naturally, I wanted to put them in my mouth.
Again alone, I would torture my nipples and fantasize about Mrs. Nelson. Of course, she now had the tits of a Playmate. Although she was twenty-eight at the time, practically elderly in my young mind, she more than sufficed in my sexual quest.
As we existed together, in some vacuum of nowhere, she would open her blouse, exposing her luscious tits to my hungry gaze. With a smile, Mrs. Nelson would beckon me.
"Come here, love," cooed her distant voice.
With intense excitement, I stepped closer, close enough to touch her beautiful body.
"I know you want them," Mrs. Nelson teased, pushing her tits out slightly, within inches of my face. "Go ahead."
Instantly, my face pressed against one of her soft globes, taking the nipple in my mouth. Like a hungry baby, I sucked powerfully on her breast as I inhaled the sweet scent of her perfume.
"Ahhh," my sweet teacher hissed, cupping her hands around my head, "you love to suck my tits, don't you?"
I whimpered into her breast, greedy for more of her ample tit. It was also about this time I discovered what my cock could do.
"When it's hard," instructed my more enlightened friend, Mike, "you pull on it like this."
Alone in his bedroom, our jeans and shorts down around our ankles, Mike patiently guided my hand up and down my erection while his other hand squeezed and tugged at his own hard cock. The throbbing sensation was driving me mad. My dick felt huge, more swollen than it had ever been before.
"Ohhh," I shuddered, drowning in a mixture of bliss and anxiety, "it feels weird."
"Relax and be patient," my friend said, sounding very authoritative. "It'll come."
Closing my eyes, I concentrated as a strong sensation built itself from deep within my body. My lips parted, and I panted as pure pleasure seared its way up the length of my shaft.
"Oh, Goddammit!" I grunted, face flushed with arousal, "It's coming!"
That gentle Tuesday afternoon, I came for my friend. Mike let go of my hand, his own orgasm taking him, as I beat out a thin string of milky, white goo across my thigh. Arching my back, another squirt lashed across the carpet. Mike pressed his face against my shoulder, shivering to completion.
"Well?" Mike panted. "It feels good, huh?"
"Yeah," I exhaled, spent. "Oh, yeah." That moment, I had achieved a level of satisfaction never before realized. My best friend and I spaced out for a few minutes of silent, post-orgasmic bliss.
Soon, the closeness of Mike's body and his breath on my neck made my hardness return. I'd never had sexual feelings for him but, at that moment, I was open to almost anything. Before I knew it, my lips brushed against Mike's ear, then his neck. It felt so good, so inviting. He offered no resistance.
"Damn," he whispered, "you're still horny?" I noticed his cock still bobbed at attention.
"Yeah," I breathed damply against his skin.
Mike pulled away, sitting up.
"Let's take these off," he said, removing his shirt, then helping me tug mine over my head.
Kicking the remainder of our clothes free, we slid our nude bodies up onto Mike's bed. Our throbbing cocks bumped together as we faced one another. In spite of my incredible horniness, I hesitated to touch my friend more. The idea of engaging anyone sexually, much less another guy, terrified me. Nevertheless, my hand reached out to touch his chest.
"You wanna come again?" Mike asked, rubbing his hand on my cheek.
"Are you kidding? Sure."
Mike pushed me back on the bed. Lying there, naked, exposed and vulnerable, my whole body tingled with arousal. I watched as he lowered his face to my chest and, with hunger in his eyes, lashed a wet, pointed tongue back and forth over one of my nipples.
"Mmmm," I moaned with pleasure, reaching up to grip his shoulder.
"Does it feel good?" He looked into my eyes.
"Don't stop," I commanded.
Obediently, he continued running his wet tongue over my rock-hard nipple. I became impatient.
