Incest/Taboo How to Eat an Elephant

Our Moms thought they were ever so clever. They had weekly lunches to gossip about our love affairs, and that's what it was - love affairs - and to talk about which Mothers and Sons they would try to bring into the group. And let's be honest here. The group was Sons and Moms who were fucking each other. I don't know if they were trying to hide their weekly lunch get-togethers from us, but they didn't talk about them much with us. When I was brought into the group there was a general understanding that what we were doing, or in my case, wanting to do, was something that had to remain an absolute secret. Oh, sure, we each knew what was going on with the others, but we were bound to secrecy among us. It was like a "Mutual Assured Destruction" pact. If anyone had talked out of school we all would be ruined, so no one talked out of school. Besides, it's not something that comes up in conversation that often. "Oh, say. I'm fucking my Mother. It's pretty great." Yeah, that's just not something you should say as a conversation starter. If there's a lull in a conversation, better to talk about the weather, or sports, or anything, except that you're in a sexual relationship with your Mom.

I was brought into the group by my buddy, Matt. His Mom, Susan, and my Mom, Anne, were close friends and, as a result, Matt and I were friends. Matt knew I had a thing for his Mom. Who wouldn't? She was one of those redheads who just takes your breath away. In my experience, redheads are either stone beautiful, or plug ugly, with no in-between. Susan was one of the stone beautiful ones. Matt had a thing for my Mom, too. If you look up "Soccer Mom" on Wikipedia, you might find a photo of my Mom, she's so stereotypical. She's a tall brunette who's going to gray naturally and although she's putting on some weight as she gets older, I think it's pretty well-distributed.

I can remember the first time Matt and I talked about our Moms. Our families were having a pool party at our house. After the hamburgers, Susan and Mom went into Mom's bedroom to change into their swimming suits. Matt and I, without having talked about it, lurked in the den so we could see them when they came out. We didn't say what we were doing, it was just by mutual understanding. This was several years ago and we were horny teen-agers, so anything could turn us on. Both Mom and Susan wore modest middle-aged style swimming suits when they came out of the bedroom, and they were giggling at something. Mom had on a one-piece, and Susan had a two-piece suit. Matt and I sat there with our mouths open. Susan stopped and looked at us, and said something like, "Close your mouths, boys. It's just your old Moms," and then they walked outside, still giggling.

I said to Matt, "God, your Mom is hot."

"Yeah, so is yours, Ryan. Her butt is something dreams are made of."

And that's how it started. From that moment, it seems like, our conversations about our Moms became more graphic each time. We tried to come up with plans for how we could seduce them, as if a teen-aged boy could ever seduce an older Mom of his friend. Whether it was possible or not, though, we would get so turned on by our talks that we couldn't stand it. Looking back, it was funny. We'd talk about them and then, one by one, we'd have a sudden urge to use the bathroom. We never talked about what we were doing in the bathroom, but for my part I know I must have flushed a few billion sperm down the toilet.

I'll admit it, I always wanted to fuck my Mom. It didn't matter what she was wearing around the house, to me she was always beautiful and sexy. There was one time, and maybe this is how we changed our focus to our own Moms, when I saw Mom in her panties and a tee shirt. She had run to the kitchen in the morning to start the coffee for her and Dad, and I was already up and getting ready for school. Matt was right. Mom had an ass to kill for. I couldn't wait to tell Matt about it.

"You won't believe what I saw this morning. I caught Mom in the kitchen, and she just had on panties and a tee shirt. You're right about her butt."

"Whoa. Could you see it? What were the panties like?"

"Just regular panties, but they were almost see-thru, and I could see her butt, I think. She didn't have a bra on, either, and her nipples were standing out."

Matt was entranced. "God, Ryan. I'd love to get my hand on her butt. You think she'd let me?"

"If anybody's hand is going to be on that butt, it's going to be mine. You've got Susan. Your hands should be on that red-haired butt."

Matt moaned. "I know, I know. You don't think I've thought about it?"

Normal teen-aged conversation, right? From that moment, though, we had acknowledged we wanted to fuck our own Moms. Oh, I'd still talk about Susan and Matt would still talk about Mom, but there was a tacit understanding that what we really wanted was our own Moms.

When we went away to college, we'd still get together with the old gang on breaks. We were careful not to talk about our Mothers in front of the other guys, but when Matt and I would be alone, you could be sure that topic would come up. As we got older, both of us were a little guilty that we still harbored those desires. I mean, at some point you're supposed to grow beyond that, right? But we didn't. I know I didn't. My desire to get Mom in bed festered like a boil. There were times when I was consumed by it, and there were times when it was in my mental background, but it was always there.

Usually, the times when it would come to the forefront was when I was in my dorm room alone and jacking off. Sure, there was the occasional coed who would occupy my fantasies, but Mom was always in there somewhere. That girl in my calculus class might start my jerk-off fantasy, but somehow it was always Mom who finished it. I can't tell you the number of times I would call home, late at night, with my dick in my hand. I'd talk to Mom, slowly jerking off, and that made it even hotter. She had no idea I had my dick in my hand while I was talking to her.

After graduating and getting a job, I guess I matured a bit. I still wanted Mom, but it was like a pot on the back burner. It was always simmering, but didn't come to a boil anymore. I guess I realized some things are unobtainable and have to remain in the realm of dreams. Yes, I still dreamed about Mom occasionally, but that's all it was - a dream.

All this is to give you background for what happened a couple of months ago. I was home for vacation, and Matt called me one afternoon. "Hey, Ryan. A bunch of us are going to O'Malleys to watch the basketball game. You wanna come and hang out with us?"

O'Malleys was our local watering hole. From the time we could drink legally, that's where we'd hang out. We thought it made us grown up, having our own bar. It was a great place. They had separate rooms with big screen TVs, so each group could watch what they wanted.

"Sure. Who's going to be there?"

"Probably Jim, Bill, Chris, and Sammy. Maybe Andy will be there. You remember him? Point guard, a couple of years ahead of us?"

"Yeah. What time? Game starts at three, I think."

"Three will be good, or maybe a little before that. See you there."

I got tied up in traffic and the game had already started when I got there. I went from room to room, and finally found our group. The rooms were great. They were set up like dens, with couches and easy chairs, and the guys were settled in with their beers. Somebody had smuggled in a couple of bags of Doritos that were being passed around.

"There he is. I told you he'd come," said Matt. All the other guys raised their beers to me. Matt already had one waiting for me, so I toasted them in return and sat in an easy chair next to Matt. We were already down ten points and it looked like another blowout in progress, so there wasn't a lot of interest in the game. We were talking in small groups, and Matt, Jim, and I caught up on what we had been doing. It was kind of poignant. When we were all younger, we had some hell-raising times at O'Malleys. Now we were in danger of becoming our fathers, talking about grass sod and such. At least we weren't to the point where each of us would describe the route he took to get there, with arguments about which route was better.

Matt leaned over to me. "So how is the beautiful Anne doing?"

"She's fine. She's started yoga classes, so we're constantly bombarded with the joys and benefits of yoga. She seems to like it, so I guess it's okay."

"She still hot?"

That kind of took me by surprise. Matt and I had discussed our Moms in intimate detail, but only between the two of us. Now Matt was talking about her in front of Jim. I didn't want to seem like a pervert, so I tried to deflect him. "Oh, she's the same. She's letting her hair gray naturally, and I think it looks good on her."

Matt took the hint, and we talked about something else. As the beer flowed, the conversations got more raucous. In a lull in our conversation I heard someone say, "She gives the best blowjob I've ever had. I guess because it's her, maybe, but it still takes my breath away." My ears perked up. Who doesn't like hearing about a good blowjob? I couldn't tell who had said it and when I looked back at Matt, he was smiling.

"Wonder who they're talking about?," he said.

"Dunno, but I'd like to get in on it. I'm in a dry spell."

Jim had gone for another beer so Matt leaned over and whispered, "You ever make any progress with Anne? Don't try to tell me you don't still want that."

I blushed, I guess, because I did still want that. Couldn't have it, of course, but I still wanted it. "Some things you want, you just can't have. I guess understanding that is part of growing up. To answer your question, though, yeah. She's still hot. Maybe hotter than she was."

"Same with me, bro," Matt said. "Mom is still the hottest redhead I've ever seen."

Laughing, I said to him, "So you tapping that?" I expected the same kind of answer I had given him. You can imagine my shock when he answered.

"Yep."

I spewed my beer. "Sure you are, in your dreams. Asshole."

He didn't answer directly, but asked me again, "You still want Anne?"

I thought I'd play along, since he seemed to be having fun with this. "Oh, yeah. You know I do. She's put on a little extra weight, and it's gone right to her ass. Drives me crazy."

Matt looked at me. "That's all I needed to hear. You remember when you gave me your Packers jersey?"

"Yeah. I loved that jersey. But you wanted it, and you were my best friend. You still got it?"

"Sure do. I know I owe you for that, so I'm going to give you an even better gift. I'm going to give you something you will remember the rest of your life."

I looked around. I didn't see anything he could give me. I did notice that conversation among the other groups had died down, and everyone seemed to be trying to watch us out of the corners of their eyes. I wondered what was going on, then noticed it was halftime. That's why people had stopped talking. I was glad we were talking about the jersey, though, so no one would hear me talking about fucking my Mom. "So where is it? Parked outside? You get me that Porshe I always wanted?"

"Better than that, my friend. Better than that."

I didn't know where this was going, so I laughed. Matt didn't laugh.

He put his hand on my arm and whispered, "What if I told you that you can get Anne in bed? What if I told you it's not only possible, but can be pretty easy to do if you go about it right?"

The other guys were all focused on the TV, where the second half had just started. "I'm listening," I whispered back.

"You ready to give it a try?"

"I dunno. First, it's impossible. Second, we're just starting to get along better, and I don't want to piss her off. Third, I don't want to get my ass shot off by the old man." I laughed, but what I said was true. It would be impossible, and it would be risky. I continued, "Better for some things to just stay in dreams, you know."

"And if there was minimal risk?"

"Minimal risk? Then yeah, I'd give it a try."

Matt stood up, clapped his hands, and shouted, "He's in!"

"What the fuck, Dude?" I had no idea what Matt was doing, but everyone in the room cheered and looked at me.

Jim was back with beers for us. "Here's a life lesson for you. How do you eat an elephant?"

Oh, now I got it. This was some sort of joke, and Matt was giving me the lead up to it. I groaned loudly. "Yeah, like I don't get enough life lesson lectures from Mom and Dad. OK, give it to me."

"You eat an elephant a bite at a time. Little bites, but by the time you're done you ate the whole elephant and it didn't even know until it was too late."

I laughed. I was a little confused by where this was going, but didn't want to look like I didn't understand. "Yeah, that's just what I want to do with my life. Eat elephants. Thanks for that."

Everyone laughed, and I laughed with them.

Jim wouldn't let it go. "That lesson applies to everything in life. What you want to do is just one of those things, but if you go at it like you eat an elephant, you can get where you want to be."

"And where is that, Jim?" I was getting a little irritated.

"In your Mom's bed."

Now I was getting pissed. It's one thing for Matt and I to talk about it, but what the hell? What had Matt been telling them. I was getting ready to stand up and walk out, when Matt said, "It can be done, because we've all done it."

"Huh?"

Bill was sitting on the couch. "That's right. We're all doing it. You were never able to hide how much you wanted Anne, so we thought we'd bring you into the group. You good with it?"

No I wasn't good with it. So the whole group had been talking about how much I wanted to fuck Mom? That's not cool. On the other hand, what if they were telling the truth? What if it could be done?

"I might be good with it, if you guys aren't all bull shitting me."

"We're not bull shitting," said Chris. "We're not bull shitting at all."

I looked at Matt. "You and Susan? Are you shitting me?"

"Yep. Me and Mom. She's hotter than I ever imagined. That red-haired bush is fine, Man, just fine." He looked around the group. "Okay, who was talking about the best blowjob you ever had?"

Sammy pumped his fist in the air. "My Mom gives the best blowjob I'll ever have."

I looked at him. I knew his Mom, Bonnie, and she was hot. Cute little blonde. I couldn't help but imagine her face on my dick.

"You're serious, aren't you? This isn't some sort of hazing ritual?"

"No, Dude. It's not hazing. It's fact. We're all in there. You can be, too, if you'll listen to us."

"I'm all ears now. Let's have it."

One by one, they all recounted how they were fucking their Mothers. Either they were telling the truth, or O'Malleys was putting some sort of psychedelic drugs in their beer. If it was some sort of mass hysteria drug, I didn't get it, so maybe it was the truth. If it was, then I was in. I told them that.

Jim took charge. "It started with me and Bill, and we've learned some lessons along the way with each of us. There are a few basic principles that seem to be consistent."

He sounded like a damned college professor. "...a few basic principles that seem to be consistent."

"And?"

"First, you have to understand your needs and your Mom's needs. You want to fuck her. Right?"

I looked around. If they were all doing it, what could I lose by admitting that's what I wanted? I nodded.

"What your Mom wants is for you to love her, totally and deeply. You can't get what you want until you give her what she wants. That's step one, really. You have to show her how much you love her."

"That sounds easy enough."

"Then you have to make her see you as a sexual being, and not just her little boy. That's the tough part, but once you get it out there, everything starts to fall into place."

I looked at Matt. I still couldn't get the image of Susan's red-haired bush out of my mind. Then I thought about what Mom's bush might look like. What it might look like with my face buried in it. "So how do I start?"

Chris said, "When's the last time you told her how much you love her?"

"Maybe Christmas, I don't know."

"Well, she needs to hear it every day. How do you kiss her?"

"Maybe on the cheek. Hell, I don't know."

They laughed in unison. "Just like us. That's where we were. Now look at us. A real gang of motherfuckers!" I laughed, too. The image was something. "Motherfucker" has become the ultimate curse word, but these guys were claiming the label proudly.

We talked for awhile. Somebody explained that what she wanted was to know I loved her, respected her, and that she could trust me. Seemed pretty basic.

As we broke up to head home, I said, "If you guys are bullshitting me, I'm going to kick some ass."

Matt said, "Just do what we tell you, and see how it goes. You down for meeting here again later in the week?"

"Sure," I said. "Why not?"

When I got home the first thing I did was to find Mom. She was down in the basement doing her yoga. I don't know what pose she was in, but it looked good. She had her butt up in the air and it looked fine in those tight yoga pants. I waited until she finished that move, and then went up to her. She stood up, slightly out of breath, and I hugged her tight to me. "I love you, Mom. I hope you know how much."

"What have you done this time, Ryan? You in trouble?"

I laughed. Yeah, I could understand how she might think that. "No, not in trouble, unless loving your Mom too much can be trouble."

She hugged me back, and I pulled her close. "I need to send you to O'Malleys more often, I guess, if this is the reaction I get," she said. "You want to learn some yoga with me?"

"No, I don't think so. I'm working on my inflexibility. You mind if I watch you?"

"Sure," she said. "I've just got a few more to work through, then I'll start supper, or maybe just order some pizza. What do you think?"

"Whatever's easiest for you." I sat down while she got back on her yoga mat. I wasn't exaggerating when I said I thought she looked better with a little age on her. She had a strap top on over the yoga pants, and those tits were looking good. I noticed a little nipple action going on. Did yoga turn her on? Maybe it was my hugging her?

That's how I spent the rest of the weekend. I hugged her whenever I could, and told her how much I loved her. I guess I was getting on her nerves because she finally said, "I get it, Honey. You love me. You don't have to tell me every ten minutes." So, lesson one to myself: Don't push it too hard. Be a little subtle. That had never been my strength, so I made myself slow down.

On Sunday she was standing at the sink, wearing another pair of yoga pants. I walked behind her and hugged her from behind. I didn't go in with the idea of making it sexual, but that's how it worked out because I ended up with my hands on her belly and pulling her butt against my hard dick. She turned around and put her hands on my chest, pushing me away. "Whoa, Son. Don't forget I'm your Mother."

"Can't help it. Those damned yoga pants on you drive me crazy."

She laughed. "Try to control yourself."

I hugged her to me, from the front this time, and made sure my dick was pressed against her. "What's gotten into you?," she asked me. She wasn't laughing this time.

"I don't know. You've just always had that effect on me. I'm serious. I can't help it."

"Well, don't let your father see you like that."

She pushed me away and went back to the sink, while I sat at the kitchen table looking at her ass. She turned around to tell me something, and saw where I was looking. "Am I going to have to start wearing a burlap bag when you're around?"

"Wouldn't make any difference. It's what's in it, not what you're wearing."

This was getting pretty deep, and I wasn't ready for it yet, so I changed the subject. "I saw Matt at O'Malleys. When's the last time you saw Susan? How's she doing?"

"I saw her a couple of weeks ago at the grocery store. She seemed very happy. I don't know what's gotten into her. She was practically bubbly."

I almost choked. I knew what had gotten into her. "Matt's good. He seemed glad to be home."

"And you're not?"

"Of course I'm happy to be here. I've missed you."

She came over and mussed my hair. "I've missed you, too, Honey. It seems like you were always here, and then you weren't. The house is empty without you, sometimes."

"You keep wearing those yoga pants, and I'll move back home, Mom," I said.

"You really like them that much? They're comfortable, but I think they show too much of my fat roll." When she said that, she pulled her tank top up a little and twirled around.

"Whew," I said. "Looks good to me. I've always been obsessed with that butt of yours."

"Too much information," she laughed. "I thought you would have grown out of that by now."

"Don't think I'll ever grow out of it. Mom, you're fine, and you know it. If you were mine, I'd have you in the bedroom every minute of the day."

She giggled. This was going better than I expected. She was upset with me at first, but here we were, talking about having her in the bedroom. "Oh, that wears off after awhile. If you haven't noticed, I'm becoming an old lady."

"You're still the hottest woman I've ever known. You may not think so, but you've still got it."

She made a shooing motion with her hands. "Oh, hush, you silver-tongued devil. Go in the den with your father. I'm going to do some yoga downstairs."

"Mind if I watch you again?"

"Will you behave yourself?" She giggled again.

"I make no promises. That one you do where your butt is up in the air? No man could control himself with that going on."

We went downstairs, and I settled into an easy chair while she got her yoga mat out. She started with some basic stuff, I guess, and then did my favorite. She was on her hands and knees and did this pose where her butt was up in the air and her head back. I noticed that she had been facing me with the other moves, but had twisted for this one so her butt was toward me. Was she doing that on purpose? Did she want me to appreciate her butt? Looked like it to me. This was going better than I hoped.

When she finished that pose, she looked back at me, back on all fours. I don't know about you, but there's that move women seem to make while you're fucking dog style. You know, when you're pounding her and she turns her head to look back at you. It drives me crazy, and that's what Mom was doing. Maybe she didn't know what that look does to men, but it sure had its effect on me.

"Ryan, you're drooling."

So she knew. She knew how I loved seeing that ass. She knew how that look back would affect me. She did it on purpose.

"Whew," I said. "You want to get a room?"

That made her laugh. She finished her yoga and rolled the mat up, then stood in front of me. I reached for her and pulled her onto my lap. She hugged me, and the effect was that her tits were right in my face. I don't know what she expected me to do. I turned my head and hugged her so that her breasts rubbed right against my right cheek. She rubbed her fingers through my hair and whispered, "What am I going to do with you?"

"I've got a few ideas right now," and I pushed down with my hands around her waist so that her butt pressed down on my dick.

"That's not going to happen. Just put it out of your mind."

In a teasing voice I said, "What's not going to happen?"

Her voice took on a teasing tone, too. "You know. That."

"Even if that's what I want more than anything? You wouldn't have to buy me a birthday present this year. It would be a lot cheaper."

"Sometimes what's cheap in the short term is more expensive in the long term, Ryan. There are some things that can never happen."

Good Lord. In two days I had gone from hugging her awkwardly, at best, to talking about whether she was going to fuck me. She might not have realized that's where our conversation had turned, but I sure knew. She had pulled back so that she was looking down at my face. I raised my hands to her back and pulled her to me. I bent my head forward and kissed her left breast.

I don't know what her reaction would have been, because at that moment Dad opened the door to the basement and shouted down the stairs, "Honey? You about done? What time's supper?"

She jumped off my lap and answered him. "I'm coming. I thought we might have pizza. Okay?" Then she looked back at me, shook her finger at me, and ran to the stairs.

Dammit. I had her tit in my face, I was kissing it through her tank top, and then Dad had to interrupt us. I laughed when I thought that. Dads. The ultimate cock-blockers. He had no idea.

We ate our pizza in the den while we watched a movie. Dad sat in his usual recliner, while Mom and I were on the couch. She leaned back on the arm and put her legs up on the couch, putting her feet against my leg. She tickled my thigh with her toes and giggled. Dad was into the movie, but neither Mom nor I were watching it that closely. I kept looking at her, laying there with her breasts straining against the tank top, and I noticed her nipples were hard. She saw me looking, and crossed her arms over her breasts.

"Spoil sport," I said softly.

"Bad boy," she said back, just as softly.

The guys had told me to show her I loved her, and then to try to introduce a sexual component to it. I was already there. She could have no doubt what I wanted. What was it they told me? To get what I wanted, first I had to give her what she wanted.

"I love you, Mom," I mouthed to her.

"I know," she whispered back. "I'm glad you do. You're supposed to, you know."

When the movie was over, Dad got up and announced he was off to bed.

"I'll be up in a minute, Honey," Mom told him.

After he left, we sat there for a minute, not saying anything. I reached down to Mom's ankle, and gently massaged it, rubbing my hand up her calf.

"You're crazy, you know it?," Mom said. "What's going on with you?"

"Same thing that's always gone on with me. I think you're even prettier now than you were when I first started noticing you."

"And when was that? Last week?"

"A little bit before that," I laughed, "as if you never noticed."

"Oh, I noticed. It's just a phase boys go through. They're all in love with their Mommy." She looked wistful. "And then they grow out of it."

"I guess sometimes we don't grow out of it, huh?"

She got up and stood there, as if she was expecting something. I thought if she was expecting it, I ought to give it to her so I took her in my arms and, without saying anything, kissed her on the lips. It was not a passionate kiss. Just a kiss on the lips, but I couldn't remember the last time I kissed her like that.

"Oh, get to bed," she said, and pushed me toward the stairs.

I had to leave the next Sunday to get back in time for work on Monday, so I had a week to get things moving. I had no idea how I was going to close the deal. I had some experience with women and it seemed to me that when it worked, it just worked. There came a time when it just seemed natural to end up in bed together. Sometimes it happened according to the much-vaunted "three date rule," and sometimes it took longer. When it happened, though, it just seemed like another step in a progression.

But this was my Mom. I had a feeling that the "three date rule" didn't apply to Mothers, and I had no idea how to progress. With anyone else, I would make sexual jokes and comments, but this was Mom. To tell the truth, I didn't think she really cared about sex that much. She and Dad seemed to just live together, and always had. I used to listen carefully at night to try to hear them at it, but never could. As far as I knew, they didn't do it.

I held back and motioned for her to climb the stairs ahead of me. She knew why I was doing it and giggled, putting her hands back over her butt. "Spoil sport," I said. I still enjoyed her swaying ass as she climbed the stairs, hands or no hands. That was a fine ass. In bed later, I thought about where we were and where I hoped we would be. Relationships are funny. You go from stealing glances at breasts until, after you've made love, you're able to touch them practically anytime you want. I wondered if I would ever get there with Mom. Either way, success or not, I had her thinking about fucking me. Oh, sure, she would deny she was thinking about it, but how could she not be? She knew what I wanted, so she had to at least consider it. I wondered what she was thinking. "Should I let him have it? Will I let him have it?" Just thinking about what she was thinking was delicious.

The next day Dad went to work and I had her to myself. When I went to the kitchen in the morning she was already there. I hugged her as she sat in her chair and kissed the top of her head. When I did it, I held the back of her neck and gave a little squeeze. "Oh, stop it," she said, but she didn't say it in an angry way. After I finished my coffee she said, "Are you ready to go down for some yoga?"

Now that was progress. She knew I liked watching her. I didn't know about her, but all I could think of was how we were interrupted when I kissed her breast the day before.

She went through her routine, and I couldn't take my eyes off her. When she got to my favorite one, she said, "This is the Downward Facing Dog. I think it's your favorite, isn't it?," and then she went into it. She first got on all fours, and then raised her butt up until she was in an inverted V position. The yoga pants strained across her ass, and I could see the outline of her panties under them. I moaned out loud. I didn't care if she heard me or not.

"Oh, yeah. I like that one."

"How about this one? This is called the Upward Plank Pose," and she laid on her back, put her hands under her, and raised her body until the only things touching the floor were her hands and her feet. Her head was arched back. Her pussy was outlined perfectly by the yoga pants, and I almost lost it right there.

I noticed, and didn't know why I didn't see it before, that she was not wearing a bra under her tank top. She had been on the previous days. In this pose, her breasts were prominently displayed and her nipples were standing up like little soldiers. "Oh, I like that one, too. I really like that one. A lot."

She held it for awhile, and then collapsed on her mat and sat in a cross-legged yoga position. "What do you like about it?"

Wow. Was she flirting with me? She had to know exactly what I liked about it. Her question caught me off-guard. What should I say? Should I be honest? How could I frame it in an innocent way? I finally decided if she wanted to flirt, I would give it right back to her, but in spades.

"It makes your breasts look delicious, the way they strain against your top. And those yoga pants, well, they show you off perfectly."

I feared I may have gone a step too far, too fast, but she didn't get mad. "I thought so. Yoga makes me feel sensuous, somehow. I thought you'd like that one."

She stood up and walked over to the chair I was in, the same one I was in the day before. Again, I pulled her into my lap and she giggled. "Now where was I," I asked, "when we were so rudely interrupted yesterday?" She put her hands around my neck and kissed me on the forehead.

"I forget," she said.

"Well, I remember," I said, and bent my head to kiss her left breast. She held my head, arching her head back, and pulled me in. I kissed her nipple through her tank top, and then sucked it.

"Oh, my baby. You shouldn't be doing that. That's not what a son should do with his Mother."

"I did before, didn't I?"

"Yes, you did. You were always a hungry little bugger." She still held my head into her breast.

I had my hands on her waist, and slid my right hand under her tank top, resting it on her smooth little belly. I started running my hand up, wanting to hold her breast, and she put her hand on mine and stopped me. "Honey, this is going pretty fast. I like playing with you, but there are some things we can't do, you know. Some things are off-limits, and always will be."

"Maybe," I replied, "But what happens between us stays between us. There's nobody but us right now, and nobody can see."

"Even if nobody sees, I'll know. I don't think I could handle the guilt, Ryan."

Even with her holding my hand, I continued to push upward. She kissed me on top of the head, and released the pressure holding it from advancing. I slid my hand up and cupped her breast, rubbing my thumb against her nipple. She moaned.

"This is what I was talking about in that plank pose. Your nipples are beautiful. They were begging me to touch them, weren't they?"

She trembled a little and said, in a drawn out flirting little girl voice, "No."

I squeezed her breast. It was soft and filled my hand. I pinched her nipple lightly. "I think they were. I think this is what they wanted," and I bent forward again to suck her nipple through her top. She held my head, pulling me into her, and reached her right hand under her top, placing it on mine. She then reached down to the waist of her top and pulled it up, over her breasts.

I don't know what I thought about them when I was a baby, but Baby, I loved them now. She had a light dusting of freckles on them, and below her tan line they were milky white. The nipples were a light brown, and stood out a good half inch. I looked up at her face, and she smiled at me. "Disappointed?"

"No way." I bent my head back down and took her left breast into my mouth. It was big enough that I couldn't get the whole thing in my mouth, but I tried. I sucked, while scrubbing her nipple with my tongue.

"Oh, my God, stop," she said, but she continued to pull my face into her breast. She held her breast with her left hand, feeding it to me like she must have done, many years ago. I sucked and sucked, with her moving my face from one breast to the other. "It's been so long," she said. "I always loved feeding you."

I couldn't say anything. What could I say? First, my mouth was full and my Mother always told me not to talk with my mouth full. More important, there were no words that could convey what I was feeling. I continued to work her breasts and started unconsciously hunching my dick up against her. She responded, moving her hips against my dick, and then she jumped up.

"You see what I'm talking about? This is going way too far, way too fast. Honey, we have to control this. There's no telling where we'll end up if we don't have limits."

"I'm good with limits, Mom, as long as they include those beauties. They were mine once, and I'm reclaiming them."

That got a laugh out of her, and she gave me the dreaded Mom answer, "We'll see."

That afternoon we just hung out together, talking and laughing. She seemed to love my attention, and I loved giving it to her. I tried to get at her tits again, but she slapped my hands away. "Time and place for everything. Remember that." I didn't know what she meant, but I wanted her to see that I could control myself, so I stopped.

That night we watched another movie, and like the previous night she put her feet against me on the couch. I didn't hesitate this time, but took her foot and starting rubbing it. "Ooh," she said loudly. "Honey, your son gives a good foot rub. You might be replaced."

"Good," Dad said, keeping his eyes on the TV. "There are some jobs I don't mind giving up."

Mom laughed, and I continued rubbing her feet. She was practically purring. She had plantar fasciitis and rubbing the tendon in her foot relieved the pain, she explained to me. By that time my hands were aching, but I wasn't about to stop. Finally, she had mercy on me and said, "That'll do, Honey. I'm good now." I ran my hand up her calf, and slid my fingers under the bottom of her yoga pants, gently rubbing her skin. She made no move to stop me, but just smiled angelically.

Again, Dad went upstairs first. This time I didn't hesitate when Mom stood up, but got up with her and took her in my arms. I kissed her again, and this time gently probed her lips with my tongue. She opened them slightly and allowed me in, then her tongue met mine. I was holding her waist, and slid my hands down to cup that curvy ass of hers. She moaned in my mouth, and then pushed me away. "Limits, Ryan. Remember."

I sighed. Limits are a killer. I wanted my hands on her bare ass. Damned limits.

She walked up the stairs ahead of me, and this time didn't bother reaching back to cover up her butt. She knew I was watching as I climbed the stairs behind her, and she didn't mind.

That night I reviewed my progress. She might say there were limits, but so far I had been able to push the limits ever forward. I was sure I would reach a point where I couldn't push anymore, but I was determined to find that point and enjoy what I had.

The next morning, Mom announced that she had some shopping to do at the mall and asked if I wanted to go. Normally, I would rather have been dipped in boiling oil than go to the mall with Mom, but this time I agreed eagerly. I'm glad I did. We had a great time. We wandered from shop to shop, and as we walked I held her hand. She liked that and, from time to time, would squeeze my hand.

We walked by Victoria's Secret and I said, "Oh, let's go in there."

"No way, Buster," she laughed. "Those aren't for my old body and besides, I think there's a rule against Mothers and Sons being in there together."

I leaned to her and squeezed her hand as I whispered in her ear, "I think that's a beautiful body." She squeezed my hand in response, but didn't say anything.

Just then we heard a voice behind us. "What are you two lovebirds up to?"

We turned around, and it was red-haired Susan and Matt, and they were holding hands just like we were. God, she was gorgeous. All I could think of was her giving Matt a blowjob, so I must have blushed bright red. I looked at Matt, and he winked at me.

"Ryan, when did you get home? Good of you to visit your poor old Mom. She wants to see more of you, you know."

Susan gave me a hug, pressing her breasts against me, while Mom hugged Ryan. I noticed Ryan's hands were pretty low on Mom's waist - not on her butt, but pretty close. "Bastard," I thought, but then I was pretty excited by Susan's tits, so I guess I couldn't criticize.

"Well, I hope so, Susan. I confess I haven't spent enough time here, but from now on, Scout's Honor, I'll do better."

Susan laughed and Mom said, "Matt's looking good."

"Oh, he is," Susan said, and got a warm look on her face. "He's my baby. He's doing everything right, I think."

She then turned to Mom and took her arm. "Say, Anne, there's a group of us who seem to get together every week for lunch. You know almost everybody - Victoria, Sarah, Lisa. There's a few you don't know, but you'll like them. You want to join us tomorrow?"

Mom looked at me and said, "I don't know, Susan. Ryan's only home this week, and I want to spend all my time with him."

I jumped in. The group Susan had described included all the Mothers who the guys claimed they were fucking. Only good could come of Mom being with them, I figured. "Oh, go ahead, Mom. You young gals need to get out and kick up your heels. We've got plenty of time. Maybe Matt and I will go out for a beer."

"Oh, okay, Susan. Where? When?"

They arranged the details, and then we went our merry ways. Mom was a little pensive as we drove home. "I hope Susan didn't see us holding hands. What did she mean with that 'lovebirds' comment?"

"Mom, she didn't mean anything. What's wrong with a son loving his Mother? What's wrong with holding hands? You always made me hold your hand when I didn't want to. Now it's my turn. Besides, she and Matt were holding hands, too, weren't they?"

"I guess so," she said, "But we have to be very careful. Nothing out of line in public, Mister."

Those were beautiful words to hear. She was telling me that we now had two sides to our relationship. We had a public side of a son innocently loving his Mother and a private side that had to remain secret.

"Don't worry, Mom," I replied. "I'll never embarrass you. When someone else is around, I'll always treat you with respect and love because you're my Mom and I love you. But when we're alone? I want to treat you like the beautiful, sexy woman you are."

"We'll see," she said, and then laughed when she saw my face. "Don't look like that, Honey. Sometimes 'We'll see' really means yes, you know."​