I was nineteen years-old and living at home when I first spied upon my mother in the throws of sexual intercourse with a man. He was not my father who had left shortly after my birth, nor did this man heaving now into my mother's womb, remain in our family constellation long enough to even warrant the overused and veiled title: "Uncle". As in, "this is your Uncle Mike. He's like a brother to me." I became curious as to why having sex with a brother would be more comforting than if she introduced him as "this is Mike. He's my new boyfriend." It seemed odd that my mother would find familial relations more sexually intimate than normal social relations.
In any case, I always recall that evening and what followed with vivid clarity. His muscular back holding himself over her as her breasts moved up and down on her frame with each thrust he made. The covers were still shielding their waists so I was unable to discern any details below their torsos, but I knew instinctively what he was doing. The bottom of "Uncle Mike" was thrusting with an even motion and each time his lower half descended, my mother gave a glorious sigh of satisfaction.
This piston-like action went on for a few moments before her hands began gripping the sheets and then his back; her breaths coming in short gasps between cries of "Oh, God." And "yeah." Holding Mike's back she lifted herself up and began aggressively kissing Mike hard on his mouth as her groin thrust with more force against him. And that's when it happened. Our eyes met. While they kissed passionately, her eyes widened and I could tell her mind was being ravaged with a thousand scenarios of what she should do. I too was in a state of shock. We both knew what I was doing was wrong; spying on anyone fucking was rude, let alone a close family member. However, we were both in such a state of arousal that no such social decorum mattered. We saw in each other's faces the mask of pure lust, I for her and she for him. Yet in that time and place, it didn't matter that we were mother and son, what only mattered was that we were both sexually aroused.
That's the best I can describe it in any case.
Instead of stopping and closing the door or even discreetly shooing me away, she simply smiled, her eyes aflame with the decision she knew would affect our relationship. In that moment, we had a tacit agreement that we, she and I were sharing this because of our secret complicity and that Mike was only a product for our amusement. Staring at me, she fucked Mike harder, encouraging him to meet her force.
"You gonna come?" She said in his ear, but looking at me. And then she nodded to me, an indication that I should masturbate. I reached my hand into my sweat pants and began to stroke myself.
"You gonna come, baby?" She repeated into Mike's ear.
"Soon." He groaned.
My mother then grabbed Mike by the hair and pulled his head back. "Hold on, big boy. Not yet." She then disengaged from him and pushed him on his back, the top of his head facing my direction. Now my mother and I would have an unimpaired view of each other's faces. Mike laid back and my mother straddled his waist slowly rubbing the folds of her engorged and heated labia over his throbbing staff. "We're gonna make it last. Okay?" She said, and then looking up at me with as if giving a command: "There's no hurry. No school tomorrow."
Mike laughed believing this to be aimed towards his own approaching weekend, when in fact, it was clearly meant for me. I smiled.
My mother, still teasing his cock with the outside of her pussy began to slowly and methodically stroke him with her vagina. Mike groaned and hissed.
"You know that makes me cum, baby. Please."
My mother smiled with one side of her mouth. It looked sexy and cruel. "I know, baby. But I need you to keep it together. We're gonna make it last. Can you handle it?" Inch by seemingly painful inch she coated his throbbing cock with the fluids of her excitement.
At last she put his cock into her pussy and simply sat there and made eye contact with me once more. While she sat squarely on his cock, Mike lay there running his hands over my mother's breasts, playing with her nipples and stroking her face, but my mother stared at me and I her. Finally, I saw her stomach muscles begin to flex and relax and Mike cried out. "Oh, God! I can't hold on!" He covered his face with his arm as my mother worked his cock with her muscles and stared at me.
"Don't worry. Let it go. Cum, baby." Mike and I both released ourselves; he into the wet and warm vagina of my mother and I into my soft and Downy-fresh surroundings of my sweatpants. She broke eye contact with me and leaned down to kiss him. I knew this was my cue to leave and I did so.
The next morning, Mike made some excuse as to why he couldn't spend the day with my mother and this time she accepted his ephemeral explanation with an unprecedented casualness. In my heart I knew it was because she wanted to be alone with me, most likely to discuss last evening's events. Mike left and I heard her pacing outside my bedroom door.
"If you want to come in, just come in. It's your house." I heard my mother let out a small laugh before she turned the knob and came into my room.
"Talk?" She asked with a trace of hesitancy.
"Let's." I replied. "Last night?" I retorted.
She nodded, her hair falling in her face.
"Mom..." before I could finish she put her hand up signifying her turn to speak.
"You're nineteen. I had you when I was twenty. I was a young mother who ... wait until I finish ... made a mistake. Not because of who you are, but because of who I was. I was a really wild girl who fucked a lot of guys by the time I had you. A lot. And when I had you, I was very happy I kept you, but I won't lie. We thought about it. No. Your father thought about it. For me it was never an option. Jesus, this is hard to talk about."
"So dad didn't want me. I'm sorry, mom. That must have been hard for you."
She looked at me. But not the same way a mother looks at a son who she's proud of or pleased with, but as a peer. She looked at me with the eyes of friendship. I felt lifted.
"It was. It was really hard. You know, I'm telling you this because we're close. I've never felt as close to anyone as I have with you. And it's not just mother and son. I've seen a lot of mothers who don't give two shits for their sons. I'm getting sidetracked here."
"Just say it, mom. Don't worry. I won't judge you."
She smiled. "I know. That's why I feel for you the way I do. That's why last night we had that ... moment."
"Mom, that was more than just a moment."
"I know. Jesus. But the thing is, baby. The thing is ... Oh, God, this is so weird." She looked up. "The thing is ..." she looked at me directly now with a fierce intensity. "I wanted it to be you in there."
