Incest/Taboo Playing with Mom

"Greg?"

"Yes." Greg usually didn't answer his cell when he was working, but it was a really slow day in the mall, even for a Monday.

"It's Jay."

"Jay?" Greg responded uncertainly after a pause.

"Yeah. You sold some boots to my mother last weekend."

"Oh, Jay! Yeah, how are you? How's your mom?"

"She's fine," Jay laughed. I bet you want to know how she is, he thought, you horny little prick. Then, just to put Greg in his place, "She loved the boots. She modeled them for me for quite a while, even after she took her dress off." There, let him chew on the image of her parading around in just her panties and those boots. "Yeah, she's really fine!"

Greg's throat went dry as a little movie of Lorraine strutting around on her long legs played vividly in his head. Hoarsely, he choked out, "Man, you're so lucky to have a mom like that. She is SO hot." Catching himself, he blurted, "Sorry, I didn't mean to say that out loud."

"It's OK. She is hot, and I am lucky. You can be too. That's what I'm calling about. My Mom wants to know how you're making out with your mom? Dhelia, isn't it?"

"Yeah, Dhelia. Umm, OK I guess. It's going kinda slow."

"Slow is good. Did she let you do anything?" Jay asked, intrigued.

"Well she tried on some shoes and let me stroke her legs, but that's about it," Greg lied. He was afraid to let Jay know how far his mom had let him go. He didn't want to admit to ignoring Lorraine's advice because he wanted to see her again on the pretext of needing more.

"Well, that's a good start. Get her used to that, and press for more once she's comfortable," Jay said, repeating what he remembered of his mom's advice.

Greg's head flooded with the sight of his mom 'getting comfortable' on the guest bed Sunday morning after he'd fucked her against the fridge. When he'd entered the room she was on all fours on the guest bed, her head twisted around to watch him as he clambered up on the bed, his engorged prick swaying between his legs. As he crouched over her she dropped her head to the pillow, spreading her arms straight out to each side, tilting her ass up at him. He grasped the headboard to steady himself, then, feet on either side of her knees, he plunged his cock into her pussy triggering a loud grunt, "Unnngghhhh." He worked his cock deep into her and then stayed still. After a minute he started rocking into her, twisting his cock as he thrust forward. Then he pulled up and dropped back into her, pausing before doing it again, and again. Within minutes he was banging down, thrusting hard, working her forward until her back was almost vertical, parallel to the headboard. Her legs were stretched out, her feet and toes arching to dig into the mattress, her cries muffled in the pillows. His cock gouged her relentlessly. He lost control.

"Sure. I'll keep going slowly, like your Mom said. Do you think she could help me out with a few more pointers?"

Jay wasn't really keen on Greg seeing his mom again. "I'll mention it to her," he replied evasively. "Well, I'd better go. I've got to study for an exam tonight. Good luck." Jay hung up.

Greg looked at his recent call list and noted that Jay had called from home, not a cell phone. Accessing the internet, he quickly did a reverse number search to find his home address, but it wasn't listed. Damn. He had no way to contact Jay's mom, unless he phoned. He didn't want to call and get Jay, but he had an exam that night. If he called after work, he should get Lorraine, or maybe her husband, who wouldn't recognize his voice anyway. It's too soon, he thought, but it was the only time he knew Jay wouldn't be there. An hour later, Greg dialed.

"Hello."

Greg didn't respond, the soft, yet assertive voice making him suddenly nervous.

"Hello?"

"Uh, Mrs. Harrison?"

"Yes?"

"It's ... uh ... Greg."

"Greg?"

"Uh ... the shoe boy." Greg's face screwed up. The shoe, boy? "You know, you tried some shoes on the other day and said you were interested," he paused uncertainly, "uh, in trying some more on ... at home, like, a private showing," he ended lamely.

Lorraine smiled, "A private showing?" she asked.

"I don't ... you know, I mean, ... I could bring some shoes by after work for you to try on."

"Oh, I SEE," Lorraine answered, smiling again as she teasingly stressed the last word, "A private SHOWING," she continued, stressing the last word again, highlighting the double entendre. "Well," she continued, "Jay's at an exam tonight and I was going to spend time preparing something special for him."

"Oh, yeah, I know. He called to see how I was doing and said I should talk you again because I'm stuck," Greg lied again.

"Did he, now?"

"Yes," Greg answered, quickly going on, "He said you would know what to do."

"He did, did he?"

"Yes," pausing, "You could surprise him with some nice new boots, he likes those."

"You think he likes me to cover my legs?" Lorraine teased.

"No, no, you have beautiful legs. I just meant ..."

"I'm just kidding." Lorraine interrupted his floundering. "Come over. I'll give you some advice and you can let me know what to wear to make my legs look better."

"Where ..."

"29 Covington Place," she said, cutting him off again. She hung up.

Well. Jay was sending this boy her way, was he? She'd have to talk to him about that. She hadn't really been planning something for Jay tonight but now she had something fun to do. As she thought about it, she began to relish the thought of teasing this young man, and maybe teaching Jay a lesson as well.
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Greg drove up the curved tree lined driveway and parked his old Honda in front of the Harrison's three bay garage. Shouldering his footwear packed gym bag as he approached the large Tudor house, his confidence, shaken after his conversation with Mrs. Harrison, dwindled further still. The door opened and there she stood, elegant even though wearing just a plain, dark blue dress that fell demurely to her knees.

"Come in," she invited. "I wanted to catch you before you rang," she explained, "I didn't want you to disturb my husband."

"Your husband?" Greg asked. Crap! He wanted to be alone with her.

"Yes," she replied, and noting his disappointment, added "he doesn't come downstairs anymore. Much," she added, to keep his tension high, though it wasn't needed from the looks of him. "Come in." She looked at his bag as he passed. Closing the door, she said, "Just take those into the living room. We can have some wine and a chat first."

She directed him to a chair in the far corner of the room. Two glasses of red wine bracketed an open bottle on the table between a reclining chair and a couch that stretched perpendicularly along the adjacent wall. He set his bag down and sat in the chair and she settled in at the end of the couch near his chair, picked up a glass of wine and leaned forward.

"Have some, it's very good wine," she said, raising her glass toward him. Clicking his glass, she said with an encouraging smile, "Let's get straight to it, shall we? Tell me about your Mom."

Caught off guard by her direct approach, Greg stumbled in his reply. Lorraine cut him off.

"What's she like? How are you making out with her? Or are you?" she laughed.

"Well, no," Greg replied. "I was hoping you'd help me out there."

"You'll need to let me know a bit about her first. What does she look like?" She wasn't sure why but Lorraine was suddenly very curious to know what this woman looked like. Why did this young man want so badly to have sex with his mother? Why was Jay attracted to her?

"She's not like you. She's short, barely over five feet tall. She's isn't fat but she's not skinny, either. She has nice ... uh .... breasts. Not too big but you can tell they're there." Trying not to glance at Lorraine's similarly small tits, Greg's gaze slid down to her long legs. "Her legs are nice, not long and beautiful like yours, but they're nice."

Lorraine smiled encouragingly again, pleased that he'd found a way to compliment her while describing his own mother, the object of his desires. "Go on," she said, sipping her wine to cover her smile.

"Well, that's about it," Greg finished.

"What color are her eyes? What's her hair like? Is she quiet? Does she have a soft voice?"

"She has brown hair and eyes." Greg started to warm up a little. "She's very quiet but her eyes sparkle and she livens up when she talks to me and her voice is soft, but not when she talking to my Dad."

"That's good, Greg. It shows that your mother really likes you. Do you talk to her much?" Lorraine leaned back into the couch, crossing her left leg over her right, allowing the split along the side of her dress to show her thigh. She was pleased again when Greg's eyes strayed down and lingered there as he answered.

"Not usually, but I have since you told me to," Greg replied, hoping to win approval by showing how he had followed her advice. "I brought pizza home so she didn't have to cook and some shoes for her to try on," he offered proudly, "but we didn't get to them right away. We watched a movie together instead."

"That's very good." Lorraine stretched her left leg out and let her shoe dangle from her foot. She slowly bounced her leg up and down, sipping her wine as she watched Greg focus on the movement of her foot.

"Did you touch her?" she asked in a quiet, conspirational voice.

"Not really," Greg lied. "I put my arm around her while we watched the movie and afterward, when she tried on the shoes, I rubbed her legs. I told her I needed to get some circulation going for her feet to fit properly."

"Was she bothered by that?"

"No."

"Did she seem to enjoy it?"

"Yeah. I did it every time she tried a pair on. Longer each time. She didn't seem to mind."

Lorraine crossed her leg again, letting the right rest over her left knee. Greg watched her dangling foot intently.

"Did you put her feet on your legs, like you did with me?" Lorraine's voice lowered and softened into a husky tone.

"Yes."

"Were you hard?" she asked, her voice getting huskier.

"Yes."

"Did she touch you, like I did?"

"No," Greg lied again.

"Why didn't you make her? You could have bumped her foot over, by accident, to see if she left it there."

Greg didn't reply, not knowing what to say next. Lorraine mistook his confusion for a need for instruction on how to get further with his mother.

"Come on, I'll show you. Let's do a little role playing here. Pretend I'm your mom. Come on get a pair of shoes."

Greg stumbled out of his chair, quickly grabbed a pair of loafers from his bag, and knelt down in front of Lorraine. She uncrossed her legs and let them rest on his thighs. She looked down at the shoes. "Slip them on my feet. Slowly. Remember, you don't want to handle her feet so much as caress them. Use your touch to send little signals, not obvious to her, but to her body."

Greg softened his touch on Lorraine's foot, sliding his fingers along her toes over the top of her foot, digging into her instep and tracing up over her ankle, slowly pinching down her tendon and sliding down and under her heel back to her instep and finally scratching along to the bottom of her toes. He repeated this route many times.

"That's good. That's good," Lorraine sighed, closing her eyes. "You need to give her body time to react naturally, and it will. She'll get excited before she realizes it. Little horny whispers that her mind can't quite hear." Lorraine could feel herself getting excited.

Greg continued to caress her feet. He hadn't moved to slip a shoe on. He let his fingers stray higher above her ankle, half way up her calf. "You have such pretty feet, Lorraine."

Lorraine didn't open her eyes when she replied, "I'm not Lorraine, remember, I'm Dhelia."

Greg was surprised she remembered his Mom's name. "Right. Dhelia." He let his fingers run to the top of her calves into the hollow behind her knees, rubbing there before stroking down and scratching the bottom of her feet by her instep. He made this his new route.

Lorraine edged her feet closer together, toward his crotch. "You haven't tried to bump me onto you," she whispered.

"It's too soon for Dhelia," Greg replied. "I need to make her relax."

He continued his ministrations, not unhappy that Lorraine kept her feet closer to him. He was feeling more confident now, now that she was letting him touch her.

After a minute, he said, "You can relax better if you lean back more."

Lorraine complied, pushing herself back into the couch. As she leveraged her feet against his thighs to raise and shove herself back, Greg took the opportunity to slide her dress higher up her legs. Lorraine didn't notice that her skirt was half way up her thighs when she settled back in, but she was aware that her feet were now higher up his legs and that she could feel his smallish cock between the soles of her feet.

"Good boy. You're learning." She tried not to reveal her disappointment with his unimposing stature.

"Shhhh, Mom. Just lie back and let me give your legs a treat."

Although Lorraine didn't outwardly react to his calling her 'Mom', she registered it mentally and an involuntary wave of tingles spread through her body. Together with the wine, they pushed the tensions of the day away.

Greg caressed her knees at the top of his strokes and then moved on to her thighs. Soon he was stroking her thighs with one hand and when he met the crease at the top where her legs joined her hips, he slid along it into the depths inbetween. He shifted closer, lifting and opening her legs to make room. Lorraine was only dimly aware of this move, being sidetracked by the sensations produced by his gentle fingers. He really did have a nice touch. She knew he wanted to look at her and she wanted to reward him, to let him have a good look. She parted her thighs even more.

Greg felt her open her legs wider in response to his nudges. He lifted her leg higher and began lightly scratching along the bottom of her thighs, the fleshy part that hung down in such a sexy curve. He exerted more pressure on the backstroke, pulling her skin toward him, away from her pussy.

God this feels good, Lorraine thought. She didn't want it to stop.

The phone rang. Startled, they both glanced at the hand receiver laying facing up on the table behind the wine bottle, the call display clearly showing that Jay was calling. Greg picked it up and handed to her.

Taking the phone, Lorraine spoke in a throaty voice, "Hi honey. Are you going into your exam?" She paused to listen. "So you're ready, then?" She paused again, closing her eyes, listening to her son while this boy caressed her legs. She heard only the murmur of Jay's voice, periodically injecting a 'mmmhhhmm', her attention focusing more on the liberties Greg was taking while she was supposedly concentrating on her real son's conversation. His fingers were straying right down to her pussy now, not touching, but gently poking and scratching all around the sides in the hollow at the top of her thighs, even sneaking into the crease below.

"That's nice, Jay," she whispered, interrupting him as she responded to a quick brush across her panties. "Mmmmmm," she injected again as her other son's fingers slowly retraced their path, lingering for a quick slide of his thumb up her crevice. "Oh, that's great, son," she blurted, belatedly hoping it didn't sound out of context.

Greg pulled his hands back, stroking further out on her thighs. He let her finish her conversation without taking further undue advantage. Lorraine reveled in the sound of her son's voice and the feel of 'his' hands all over the inside of her thighs. After a few more minutes, Lorraine said, "Good luck, son. I'll wait up for you." The phone clicked. Lorraine kept it gripped tightly in her hand.

Greg kept stroking her legs. He moved higher again, back into the hollows on the inside of her thighs, near her pussy. She allowed it even though she was no longer distracted. In fact, she opened her legs slightly wider, settling deeper into the couch to enjoy it. He deserved a reward for having the class to pull back while she was talking to Jay. A few minutes later, she suddenly realized that only one of his hands was stroking her leg. She opened her eyes to see him holding her glass to her lips.

"Close your eyes and have some more wine, Mom."

As her eyelids fluttered down she felt him tip the glass and let the warm wine spill into her mouth. She swallowed. He tipped the glass again. She swallowed, and then shook her head.

He tipped it again, "More."

She shook her head.

"More," he insisted.

She relented, letting him pour more in, spilling a little on her lips. That's OK, I'm feeling so relaxed. She could feel his left arm resting on her thigh near the top of her leg, his hand dangling between her legs near her pussy. The precocious little bugger. As he had offered her more wine, he'd slid her dress right up and opened her legs even wider, and she hadn't even noticed. She couldn't believe he hadn't gotten further along seducing his real mom. His fingers were at her lips, pushing a drop of spilled wine into her mouth.

"Don't waste this expensive wine, Mom," he whispered.

He dragged his finger out, traced it slowly across her lips, pushed it back into her mouth, then repeated this several times as if doing her with a small penis.

"More?" he asked.

She nodded. Expecting to feel the glass at her lips, she was surprised when she felt the thickness of several fingers, wet with wine, prodding her closed lips, which soon parted to allow him entry. He's like a salesman seeking agreement to one thing after another before making the final pitch.

"Suck them," he whispered softly, his face close to hers.

Lorraine sucked, and kept sucking even after the taste of wine was gone. She was horny, very horny. She'd meant to tease him with her legs, to give him a nice look, but she'd lost control while talking to Jay and she was surprised that she didn't care.

"More?"

She nodded again, this time holding her mouth open. His fingers returned, covered in wine, but he didn't put them in.

"Please," she whispered.

She couldn't believe her own ears! He pushed in and she sucked on his fingers hungrily. She was feeling very warm and moist and her pussy was throbbing. He was brushing his fingers lightly back and forth across the front of her panties. Incredibly, she pushed her mound against him, striving for firmer contact.

"More?"

"Please."

She was startled when he poured the rest of her glass into her open mouth. At first, she gagged, then quickly swallowed. His fingers pressed against her lips and she opened them automatically. He pushed his fingers in and rested them on her tongue.

"Suck," he commanded.

His other fingers left the front of her panties. Before she could register disappointment, she felt them dig under her panty leg and push onto her bare pussy. It didn't even cross her mind to complain.

"Keep sucking."

She sucked his fingers vigorously as she felt his fingers curl and dip between her slippery lips below. Leaning in, he put his tongue delicately into her ear as he dug his fingers into her. She moaned around the fingers filling her mouth while grasping with her nether lips at the intruders below. She needed it so badly now.

He pulled his fingers out of her mouth and slid around to kiss her, slipping his tongue inside. She could feel him tugging her panties down with his free hand, pulling them away from her pussy, part way to her knees. The crooked fingers of his left hand never left her cunt. Then she felt him pushing two more fingers from his other hand into her. His tongue swelled in her. He pulled his left hand free to make room for the rest of the fingers on his right hand. It was so vulgar, so demanding. She lifted her legs and opened wide to give him room. His free hand came up to the side of her head, grasping her hair and holding her still as he broke the kiss and pulled back to look a her. She gazed back, eyes wide, panting. Looking down on her, he began to work his hand into her soaking cunt.

"Close your eyes," he instructed.

She did, and as he continued working her pussy, twisting and pushing his fingers in further and further, widening her, she thought, God, its been so long. A low moan escaped her lips and she humped his violating fingers.

"That's it," she heard him rasp, "fuck it. Come on, fuuuck it!"

She thrust hard against him, again and again. Suddenly, he pulled his hand away. She opened her eyes. He was staring down at her, gasping.

"Turn around," he barked.

She gazed back, not comprehending.

"Turn over," he repeated, putting his hand under her left knee, lifting and twisting it toward the center of the couch.

Lorraine moved with him, in a daze, twisting around until she was on both knees facing the back of the couch. She felt his hand move behind her, up between her legs to her pussy. His fingers entered her as his other hand pushed her forward against the couch, then grasped her hair, tugging her head back.

His voice rasped hoarsely in her ear, "Now let's really get into it."

He shoved his fingers in, her ass rising in response, her knees lifting off the couch. He kept pushing. She let out a steady moan as his fingers slid completely into her and the body of his hand started pressing for entrance as well.

"Come, on. Take it. You can do it. Take it!" he growled.

She yowled as her cunt succumbed to the pressure, allowing his hand to squeeze in. He held it still while she softly moaned, accommodating his vulgar intrusion. He began to shake his embedded hand in her pussy, a squelching sound emitting as it achieved vibration status. Then he started to twist, just a little. GOD, it feels fantastic. She couldn't help it. She moaned loudly.

His twisting quickened, and he started to move his hand in and out, traveling only an inch, but generating the most incredible feeling. "I can't, I can't," she cried.

"Yes you can, baby. Come on, Mom. Do it for me. Do it for your son." He pushed his hand further in, causing her to expel a primal grunt. "TAKE IT."
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