No sexual connotation in minors is mentioned.
*******
*******
I never forgot my father's advice when I turned 18, "Son, a common misconception is that most men are sex maniacs while the majority of women would live happily without experiencing the pleasures of sexual intercourse. In my lifetime, I've bedded more than 100 ladies of all shapes, colors, and ages. The trick is to find the trigger that would light up their flames. Once you discover it, you are on the way to the infinite delight of the flesh."
It was one week after finishing my senior year in high school and I was preparing to start college before attending medical school. From a young age, I knew I wished to become a cardiologist, and invested much of my time and energy toward this goal. Unlike many of my friends, I never had a girlfriend, and the opposite gender was far from my thoughts.
I grew up in New York with my mother. She and Dad divorced when I was only 2 years old. He moved to California and never remarried. My father was a successful businessman and was rich beyond belief. He sent us a monthly allowance that was more than adequate for our needs. He also called and e-mailed us biweekly.
Mom worked as a full-time registered nurse in the internal medicine department of the local hospital. Her job required alternating shifts, and most weeks, half her schedule, she worked mornings and the other the evening shift.
Despite her busy work schedule, she managed to do well at home. The house was always clean, my clothes ready in my closet, and until recently, when I finally got my car, she drove me to after-school activities. I loved her calm and smiley demeanor and considered her the best Mom in the world.
When I became a freshman in college, my intention was to concentrate on my studies just like before. However, soon enough, I realized it wasn't as easy as I thought it would be. Much of the time parties were everywhere. While alcohol was not officially allowed under 21, it was always available. I got sucked into this lifestyle by 2 of my new friends and started going out with girls.
The first girl I dated, Lora, was 2 years older than me, a pretty brunette with an athletic figure. When she found out I never dated anyone before, she said, "It's very surprising. You are tall, extremely handsome, smart, and funny. How come I am your first?"
"I wish to be a heart doctor and wanted to ensure my scores would be enough to get to a good medical school."
She giggled, "Moses, college years are for fun. Enjoy your time while you are young. You'll have time to focus on medicine later." Lora had intimate relationships with 2 guys before me, and she was the one I lost my virginity to. She was insatiable. Under her guidance, I became good at eating pussy and the commonly used sexual positions. Pretty soon, I realized she craved our sexual escapades even more than me. When Lora was horny, she would do anything to be fucked. I made her expose her body to strangers on the balcony, photographed her masturbating, and even blindfolded her, making her suck off my friend. Two months later, I dumped her for Emily, a giggly blonde girl with huge tits. Emily was a lousy cocksucker, but her humongous breasts were tasty and useful for titfucking. I lost interest in her early because she was addicted to social media, and her phone never rested. In fact, I had similar issues with my next 3 girlfriends - While they were pretty with nice figures, their lives revolved around nonstop chatting and constant phone calls.
A year later, I met Sarah. She was a middle-aged, short lady. In a Costco store, she asked for my help pulling the Kashi cereal from the top shelf. I did as she asked and noticed her cart was overloaded. I carried her stuff to her wagon. She thanked me and invited me for a coffee. Sarah told me she divorced her husband 5 years earlier and was looking online for a mate.
I joked, "Why not me?" She gazed at me and answered, "You are young, good-looking, and a gentleman. Why would YOU want me?"
I ogled her. She was about 40, 5'3", 135 pounds, with a generous rack, narrow waist, and nicely widening hips. Her face was cute, surrounded by shoulder-length, dirty blonde hair. I liked the way she looked and blurted, "Lady, if your question refers to your chronological age, it's irrelevant. I'd rather date a mature woman who knows what she wants than a silly spring chicken whose interest is gossiping on the phone."
Sarah and I went to a movie together and later had sex. Initially, she was very shy, scared I'd find her body repulsive. However, I liked her large, somewhat sagging tits and the few wrinkles. It made her real. More importantly, she loved everything I did with her. Sarah was an expert cocksucker, and her blow jobs always ended up with her swallowing my seed, smiling afterward, and thanking me for the tasty juice. She offered me anal sex. I was patient and careful using her backdoor. The experience was very pleasant. I liked Sarah a lot: She was a wonderful lady, a great cook, a cheerful companion, and great in the sack. Our relationship ended abruptly when she got a phone call from her mother, who was admitted to the hospital with a large stroke. The mother, who resided in Oregon, needed her by her side...
I mourned the loss of Sarah and became depressed.
Mom noticed immediately that my mood was down. She joined me in front of the TV when I was watching a basketball game and asked, "Honey, I hate to bother you during a game, but I noticed you are not feeling well lately. Is there anything I can help you with?"
"I don't think so."
"You stopped going out after school, and you don't laugh. What is it?"
"If you really want to know, my girlfriend had to leave for good."
"You never brought her here, so I do not know anything about her, but judging from your reaction, you were very fond of her."
"Yes. She was perfect for me. Sarah wasn't young, but she was the ideal friend and lover."
"What do you mean 'not very young?"
"She was 42 years old."
"I am stunned... She was 2 years older than me. You are a real stud, like your father when he was your age, and as such, you can date most pretty young girls. What attracted you to our age group?"
"Every attractive girl my age cared much more about her appearance, the latest fashion, Taylor Swift, and chatting on the phone than enjoying REAL life."
Mom chuckled, "Do you mean having sex?"
I grinned, "That was never my issue. Each girl I ever dated loved our sex. However, at other times, they did not show interest in any worldly thing, whether politics, travel, sports, or hobbies."
"Was the sex with a woman in her 40s as satisfying as with a 20 year old?"
"It was even better..."
Mom had a strange smile, "I wonder..."
"Wonder what?"
"Never mind. How would you like to go to a movie together? We can see a comedy that will cheer you up or even an action movie you like. I hate to see you miserable."
"Mom, you don't have to do it. I'll be OK."
"Not good enough. Unless you have an exam tomorrow, we go out. It's not just a favor for you. I haven't gone to the theater in ages. Check online and let me know which movie and what time to be ready."
I smiled. It was so not like Mom to take charge. She was usually very quiet, wearing shapeless clothes at home, and unless one of us needed something, she was hardly noticed.
I chose the latest Tom Cruise movie. We had an hour to prepare. After dinner, Mom went to her bedroom and blurted, "Honey, I'll be ready in 20." She closed the door behind her. I shaved and wore a clean, long-sleeved shirt with khakis and sat to wait for her.
She opened her door, leaned on the frame, and asked seductively, "Moses darling, is this OK?"
My mouth almost fell to the floor. My timid, never-well-dressed mother had disappeared, and before me stood femme fatal! Her black, long hair was loose, her dark, large eyes shiny, and red lipstick covered her full lips. Her face was pretty!... Mom put on a short beige dress. It displayed ample cleavage and emphasized her shapely legs. Geez, Mom looked... sexy!
She watched my eyes and grinned, "From the way you stare, I assume you approve, but if I am wrong, tell me, and I'll wear my usual stuff."
"Mom, what the fu...? Where have you been all these years?..."
"Honey, you always saw me at home. Why wear fancy clothes when relaxation and comfort are in order?"
I didn't answer, but the way she looked and her pose was engraved in my brain. How come I never noticed Mom was beautiful?!
The theater was half empty. An old couple sat on the other side of our row with nobody nearby. Mom was thrilled to be in the theater and, even more, to see Tom Cruise. She said, "When I was younger, Dad and I used to go and cuddle watching his movies: Mission Impossible, Jerry Maguire, and Eyes Wide Shut. We were very naughty, playing with each other in the dark and finishing later in bed."
I hugged her shoulder, "Is this the way Dad held you during the movie?"
She chortled, "This was the way he embraced me when the lights were still on..."
I grinned and whispered, "Mom, you were very naughty."
She sighed, "These were the happiest moments of my life until I had you."
Next, she wanted to plant a kiss on my cheek, but I turned to her, and our lips met. She retreated and smiled, "Happy accident."
Yes, it was, yet the memory of her soft lips was another thing that changed the way I began thinking about Mom. She looked nothing like Sarah, yet I felt strangely attracted to her.
The lights went off, and future movies were shown on the screen. Mom's eyes glanced forward while mine wandered from the screen to her face and her bosom. Twenty minutes later, Top Gun: Maverick began. I continued hugging Mom's shoulder. She leaned her head on my chest and concentrated on the film.
We watched it for almost half an hour. Then, during a suspense moment, Mom tensed, and her hand squeezed my thigh. I hugged her tighter, attempting to relax her. Her pulse was very rapid. I kissed her cheek and whispered, "Mom, it's only a movie."
She didn't look in my direction and mumbled, "I know, but still..."
Another scary scene appeared 15 minutes later. She bent forward, and her palm again tweaked my upper thigh. I noticed the upper part of her dress separated from her body, and despite the dim lights, I could see her white bra and the top of her large breasts.
My pecker stirred and began climbing.
I was in a pickle: Mom was focused on the screen with her torso leaning heavily on my body and her hand on my thigh as my penis was on the way up. Only a couple of minutes passed, and Cruise was in real danger. Mom stopped staring at the film, hugged me with both hands, and pressed her face into me. Unfortunately, in this position, her covered tits crushed my chest and accelerated my erection.
Rather than resuming her original sitting position when the dangerous situation was over, she kept both arms around me as if afraid another scary moment was coming.
And then, what I was afraid of happened: My stiff pole hit her hand. She peeked down. The faint light was enough to notice the massive tent in my pants. I blushed profusely, but she couldn't see it.
Mom stared at my face, caressed my bulge lightly, and murmured, "Honey, I am sorry. I wasn't thinking."
I joked, "Is this the way Dad and you started your good times at the movies?"
She laughed, "Sometimes. Dad loved taking me to horror films, and when he saw me terrified, he began touching me. Scary moments raise my adrenalin, so I was easy pickings for his shenanigans."
I whispered in her ear, "Mom, you look so sexy that I am tempted to do the same."
She mumbled, "Honey, don't you dare."
I didn't answer, and my arm moved from her shoulder to her upper arm. I caressed it gently, moving gradually to her side boob. The first time I touched the boob, she gasped but did not change her position. I waited patiently for the next frightening scene, wondering what she would do.
About 10 minutes later, it happened. Mom's breasts pressed hard against my chest for a moment. When the scary scene was over, she slowly turned her torso from my body to the front. As a result, my palm slipped onto her covered mammary. I didn't move, wanting to see her reaction. I heard her breathing turn faster, but she didn't move.
I noticed her pulse accelerated, even though the scene was not dramatic. I waited for 5 minutes, and when she continued sitting still, my palm trailed gingerly on her breast. She turned her face to me and whispered, "Honey, what are you doing?"
"Like father like son..."
"Moses darling, you are not playing fair."
"You didn't play fair turning from Mother to a sexy vamp."
She didn't answer. I continued caressing her boob tenderly, feeling her respiration turning labored. My fingers began gently kneading the tit. She squirmed in her seat, and her hand bobbed my thigh. Next, my hand moved upward, reached the uncovered part of her chest, and penetrated between the dress and her bra.
She begged, "Please, honey..."
"Mom, that's OK. You like it, don't you?"
"I do, but that is not the issue..."
"Sshhh, watch the movie."
"I can't."
Subsequently, I inserted 2 fingers inside her bra and lightly pinched her hard nipple. She shivered and whined, "What are you doing to me?..."
I shoved Mom's hand slowly onto my erection and whispered, "Mom, be nice."
She quieted, and her palm massaged my covered cock softly. I kissed her cheek and said in a low voice, "You look irresistible tonight. Right now, I want you more than anything in the world."
I noticed her eyes were closed. She slowly turned her head in my direction. I kissed her lips and whispered, "Mom, I love you!"
She didn't talk but opened her eyes and looked at me lovingly. I kissed her again. Her lips parted for me and allowed my tongue to explore her sweet mouth. After a long moment, her mouth disengaged from mine. She buried her face in my shirt and mumbled, "What are we doing? It's a sin!..."
"No, it's not. We love each other."
"God! Kissing my own son..."
I lifted her chin tenderly and kissed her again. She didn't fight and let me spread her lips and invade her mouth again. My hand resumed tweaking her bare breast and then rolling her nipple between 2 fingers. She trembled and murmured, "Honey, I cannot watch the movie or think anymore. I am too aroused. Please, take me home."
I helped her up and led her carefully to the exit. I drove 20 miles an hour over the speed limit, lucky not to get caught by the police. Mom was crumbling on her seat with her eyes closed.
I parked by the house and went around to the passenger's door. I opened it. Mom kept sitting down. I lifted her in my arms, kicked the car door with my foot to close it, and carried Mom to the house. I gently stood her by the door, unlocked it, and guided her to bed.
I fought the urge to undress Mom and have sex with her. I removed her shoes, lifted the cover, placed her as is on the sheet, covered her, and went back to my room.
In the morning, I woke up early. Mom's door was closed. I brushed my teeth, dressed up, ate my cereal, and left the house. I knew Mom would not be home when I returned - She was working the evening shift.
I drove back from work and, on the way, stopped at a flower shop. I bought a dozen red roses, put them in a nice vase, and attached to it a card showing a heart being pierced with an arrow. I went to sleep at 10 pm. I woke up an hour later, hearing Mom crying softly. I debated whether to go to her, but then the cry stopped, and I remained in bed.
The next day, Mom left before I exited my room. I knew I'd see her after work. I was stressed and could hardly listen to the teacher at school.
In the afternoon, I entered the front door with my heart pounding like crazy. I saw Mom working in the kitchen wearing a robe. I came behind her, hugged her tummy, and whispered, "Mommy, I love you."
She pressed her back against me and murmured, "Thank you for the beautiful flowers, and I love you very much, too."
I kissed her neck, and my palms cupped her covered breasts, "I love all of you, Mom."
She whispered, "I know what you are saying, honey. I struggled all of yesterday, but I can't anymore."
I released her belt, and the robe opened. I turned her slowly toward me. Her eyes were shut. She raised her face to me. I kissed her pouty lips and ogled her exposed tits. My flag was up before I could say Jack Robinson.
I lifted her in my arms and took her to her bedroom. I removed the robe gently and lay her on the bed. I undressed rapidly and joined Mom on the mattress. Her eyes were closed the whole time. I blurted, "Mom, look at me."
She opened her eyes pleadingly, but no words came from her mouth.
"Mom, you are gorgeous, and I wish to make love to you."
She didn't respond and closed her eyes again.
"Please, Mom, tell me you want it too. I do not want to force you to participate in something you are reluctant to do."
Her arm caressed my face, and she mumbled, "My brain does not stop arguing, but my heart and the rest of my body want you."
"Show me you want it. Kiss me."
Her face closed on mine, and she kissed my lips lightly.
"Not like that. A lover's kiss."
She opened her eyes, and I saw tears in them, "Damn you! Stop talking and fuck me, for god sake..." I was shocked, and it took me several seconds to recover.
Next, I French kissed her and massaged her big mammary. She moaned. I dove between her thighs and started licking her cunt. She whispered, "Honey, I want you inside."
"No! I wish to taste you. All of you before sex."
"Honey, don't do it, please. I wanted you for a long time, and every second that passes, I feel my heart hurting more..."
I knelt between her spread legs, inserted my cock gingerly into her pussy, and began riding slowly. "Mom, when did you start having these feelings?"
"For quite some time now. But I couldn't do anything about them. I am much older and, of course, your mother. In any case, you were busy with other ladies."
I intensified my strokes and continued interrogating, "So what changed your mind?"
"Hearing from you about Sarah, who was about my age, and the way you ogled me when I dressed up for the movie."
"But I was still your son."
"I see you as the reincarnation of your father..."
"What do you mean?"
"In our first year, Dad and I loved everything about sex. We did it everywhere and anytime. He barely touched me, and I was ready for anything. Any position, any place, even in public. Sex became our addiction. Unfortunately, sex with me was not enough for him. He was born to be free like a butterfly: No commitment to his wife or child and multiple sexual escapades with other women. We separated amicably. I understood his needs, and he paid handsomely to support us. After the sexual bliss I had with your father, the separation was a heavy burden, especially on my physical needs. In the first 10 years of your life, he came to visit several times. On each visit, we had sex when you were not in the house. About a year ago, he asked to get your current picture. I e-mailed him the photo you gave me. Dad wrote back, "He looks so much like me. He is like me incarnate." I began seeing you in a different light and started seeing you in my dreams. Before that, I used to see Dad and me going at each other like in the old days. Lately, in the dreams, his face changed to yours..."
I accelerated my drilling and smirked, "Does it mean I get to have his privileges?"
She sighed, "Honey, I was yours from the first moment you showed interest in me, but I couldn't admit it."
I pounded Mom's body harder and asked, "Would you rather I make love to you or fuck you?"
"I waas hungry for tooo long. I waant you to fuuck my cunt aaand ravage my boody..." As she finished mumbling, her torso shook, and she screamed, "Ohh, GOD! It's sooo good. I caan die now. Ohh myyy!..."
Her mouth was wide open, alternating between gasping for air and screaming, and her body was quivering wildly beneath me. Mom's round tits bounced wildly before my eyes. I was plowing her cunt mercilessly with her screams being music to my ears.
I was closing fast on my own orgasm and hissed at her, "Do you want me to stop now?"
"NO! Pleease, continue foooreveer..."
I shifted to the highest gear, pinched her nipples savagely, and dumped my load deep inside her hungry vagina. The spasming muscles in her womb added to my pleasure, and my organ refused to shrivel after cumming. I continued abusing her pussy for another 10 minutes before slowing down.
We rested for almost half an hour before Mom began moving. She whispered, "Am I alive?"
I joked, "I hope so. I never had sex with a ghost before."
She chuckled and hugged me, "You really are your father's incarnate. Sex with both of you feels the same. My soul was outside my body and I could see you doing things to me. Everything was very pleasurable. I loved the combination of sex with some pain. I missed it."
"Mom, are you saying we can have sex again?"
"Yes, motherfucker. I LOVE IT! Just like with your father before: Gentle, rough, vaginal, oral, anal, on the laundromat, you name it."
I recalled Dad's saying and smiled.
Mom asked, "What is so funny?"
"Like father like son."
