Incest/Taboo The Mom Memories: Craig's Story

I kissed Mom again.

"When he turned her to kiss her, his hand would have brushed along the side of her breast, their first sexual caress. Can you imagine how electric that first touch felt to her?" I cupped my palm and slowly slid my hand and fingers down the side of Mom's breast. "The first time her son had ever touched her tits. It was all she could think of while he was kissing her. Would he have the courage to take it into his hand ... to possess it?" I slipped my hand under Mom's tit and cupped it, squeezing its bulk, sliding my thumb across her nipple.

"When he finished that first kiss, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed her son, mouth open, accepting his deeply probing tongue, pressing her breasts hard against his chest, wishing she hadn't worn a bra so her son could feel her hardening nipples." I kissed Mom again and slipped my hand under the nightie to caress her other tit, softly sliding my fingers all around before lighting squeezing her breast just as I finished the kiss.

"She was wondering what it would feel like to have his lips on her breasts, to push her tit into his mouth, wondering if that woman in the elevator, you Mom, let her son kiss her and suck her tits. Then her mother called out that dinner was ready. She had a hard time pulling herself away from her son, and an even harder time keeping him at bay. She walked to the door, thank god it was closed and that her mother hadn't walked in. She straightened her clothes and fixed her hair, cleared her throat, and walked out, telling her mother how hungry she was."

I looked down at Mom's breasts. Her nipples were standing up proudly. The one I was touching but also the other one. I think Mom liked me talking about that other mother and her son. I think it was driving a pleasant dream in her head, an erotic one.

It was certainly exciting me. I was hard as a rock. I wanted to get against her, to rub myself on her ass like I had when she'd let me rub cream all over her. Going to the bathroom and jacking off wasn't going to do it for me. I had to get her turned over.

"Gosh," I said aloud, "Mom went to sleep without putting cream on. Her skin will be all dried out by morning. I'd better put a little on her." It was such an obvious ploy but I couldn't think of anything else.

I grabbed the jar of skin cream off the table, dabbed a little on my fingers and spread it on her shoulders, got some more and spread it down the arm nearest me, pushing the covers down as I went, doing the same when I leaned over to do the other arm.

"I better do her legs too," I said, explaining why I was about to take the covers completely off, still speaking as if she was asleep.

I began rubbing the cream on her feet, taking the time to do the whole foot, sole, instep, and toes. While I felt eager to get up her hidden treasure I took my time, enjoying the feel of her legs and the way they looked covered in a sheen once the cream was applied. It was especially exciting to do her thighs, knowing that this was the point where she would wake up and stop me if she wanted to, feeling a thrill sweep over me each time I pushed her nightie higher or pressured her legs open a little more. She lay quietly, letting me do both thighs right up to her panties. I could feel the heat emanating from her, partly because I had leaned down and my face was less than a foot away. I could smell her.

"I better not forget to do her back," I said, rolling her over a few seconds later, making sure I managed to push her nightie up to her waist. I paused to admire her again, immensely enjoying the feeling of manipulating this strangely malleable woman. The small panties stretched tightly across her buttocks, the crease between her cheeks stretching over the dark shadow under the material below. Leaning forward, I grasped the hem of the nightie and pushed it up her back, past her shoulders. Reaching underneath, I dragged it above her breast to her neck. Returning to her shoulders, I spread the nightie up, covering Mom's head hoping to isolate her, to make her feel she was divorced from what happened outside, and not responsible for it.

"Oh," I said, as if making a fresh discovery. "These panties are made of the same fancy material. They must go with the nightie. I better not get cream on them."

I started pulling Mom's panties down. Just a little at first so I could quit if she made a move to stop me. I wanted to be able to continue even if she was wearing her panties. I mean, she looked great anyway. But Mom didn't move, even though it didn't make sense for me to remove her panties to do her back. I pulled those flimsy things down her hips and slowly worked them over her legs. Man, that was a thrill.

I was about to start her back but stopped to pull my boxers down and threw them aside, my cock flailing around in front of me. I spread a little cream on her lower back and began working it in. Several minutes later, as I was doing just below her shoulders, I kissed the back of her neck and started whispering again.

"It was hours before they were alone again. She stayed away from her son, hiding in the bathroom for a long time, hoping he would be sleeping when she came to bed. But he wasn't. She didn't want him to touch her. She was afraid she wouldn't be able to stop herself. God, it had made her feel so alive when he kissed her, heat spreading through her loins. That was the most intense feeling she had ever felt from being kissed. It was all she could do to break away when her mother had called. What if he'd touched her? Could she have stopped?"

I was straddling Mom's thighs as I worked on her back. When I leaned forward to kiss her neck, I could feel the tip of my cock graze her cheeks.

"He was waiting, wanting to talk, wanting to kiss her again, but she kept him away, telling him to go to sleep. She refused his request for a kiss goodnight, saying that they couldn't kiss anymore. She turned onto her tummy to hide her breasts, covered only by her nightie. She wondered why she hadn't left her bra on as she drifted off to sleep."

I sat back on Mom's thighs, scooped up some more cream and began applying it to her cheeks, pushing it between with my thumb. I wondered what she was thinking. Was she dreaming about that woman, laying in bed, wanting her son to touch her but not capable of allowing it? I smiled as I worked the cream between her cheeks, larding on copious amounts, knowing I was going to rub my cock through this shiny valley. Was she thinking, 'But I let my son touch me?' That thought made me quit what I was doing and return to carry on the story. I hadn't meant to leave her wondering if she was doing something wrong. How stupid of me.

"She woke with a start, her eyes fluttering open. There were hands on her, her son's hands. She could feel him, kneeling behind her, between her open legs. He was caressing her bare back, running his hands from her shoulders to her bottom. Her nightie was around her neck. He'd pushed it up but she knew it still covered her breasts. She could feel his lips nibbling across the small of her back, up onto the rise of her buttocks to her cheeks, kissing them. My god. Her panties were gone! He'd taken her panties off. How long had this been going on?"

I moved back and put one knee between Mom's slightly parted legs, pushed them wider and placed my other knee inside so I was kneeling between her legs the same way as the son in my story which I continued.

"Jesus, she thought, I don't have any panties on and my legs are wide open. She was about to close her legs but realized she couldn't because he was sitting in the way. Then she thought, he'd know I'm awake if I tried to close my legs. Oh, how awful. Am I going to let him do this? Am I going to pretend to be asleep?"

I leaned closer to Mom, allowing my cock to rest on her ass.

"Her son's hands slid up her side, reaching underneath, sliding under her breasts, kneading them, pinching and pulling her nipples. God, it would be so awkward to wake up now, she thought. I'll let him have his feel. He'll have to quit soon, he must have been doing this for quite a while if he managed to get my panties off without waking me up."

I leaned down right over Mom, holding myself up with my elbows, and slipped my hands underneath her to massage her tits, whispering in her ear.

"His hands feel so good on my tits, so much better than the way Bob mauls them. He's so gentle, so loving. She almost groaned aloud as her son pulled her nipples, rolling them between his fingers. I'll just let him play. It would embarrass him too much if I wake up now, she reasoned. How could we look at each other. No, it's better if I just let him play. ... Ohhhh, that feels marvelous. She couldn't help digging her face into the pillow as her son continued stretching and rolling her nipples. Then she felt it, his hardness pushing down on her ass, pressing between her cheeks."

I pulled my cock back to rest in the crease between Mom's cheeks and slowly slid forward through the wedge in her cheeks.

"Oh no. I can't. I can't let him do that. He was pushing his cock against her soft bottom now. It was almost as if he didn't know what to do, like he was trying to push in the wrong place because he wasn't sliding through her cheeks as much as trying to nudge it into her."

Mom was breathing heavily now so I knew my storytelling was getting to her. I was working on her nipples just like in the story and now, as in the story, I let the tip of my cock slip down and nudge against her ass.

"It felt so good to her, her son pushing his cock at her. She lifted her ass a little, not enough for him to get inside her but enough for his stiff dick to slip below her pussy, the next shove pinching it between the bed and her cunt. Oh, oh, that felt so fine, slipping between her lips. She couldn't help but grind herself down on him, lifting to let him drag himself out only to trap his cock again when he shoved it back in. He was heavier on her back now, gasping, beside himself with the incredible feeling of sliding his cock along her pussy, trying to angle it up so he could get inside."

I pulled back far enough for my own cock to drop to the mattress and shoved it forward, under Mom's pussy and started fucking between her pussy and the sheets, following the story. On the fourth slide in, Mom pushed down, pressing her pussy on my cock. Ahhh, great. Just like in the story. I scrunched my hips in and out a dozen more times before beginning to talk again, loving the pleasure of her pussy clamping down on me each time.

"She knew he was going to come soon. He was so young, it couldn't be much longer. God, she was near herself. This was so bad, so bad. She was letting her son rub his bare cock on her pussy, with her parents in the next room, in their home. What was she doing? God it felt good, she couldn't stop. Oh god. If he comes, he'll stain the sheets. Her mom will find out, she always does the laundry. She'll find out. She was panicking now. He couldn't come, they'd be caught. How can I stop him? I can't. Oh god, he's shoving faster. He's going to come."

"It was just natural. She rolled her hips and twisted her ass up, opening herself to him. He kept sliding underneath for a few more pushes but then he pulled back far enough for his cock to lift and he pushed it into her slippery lips. She lifted more to accommodate him, feeling him slip inside her. He stopped for a few seconds just inside, probably shocked that he was in his mothers cunt, then quickly slammed all the way in, bucking his hips furiously, fucking her, fucking his mom, his first time inside a woman."

I angled my own cock up as much as I could, putting pressure against Mom's pussy. Would it work? Would she duplicate the mom in the story again. I pressed up, managing only to gouge between her wet lips. Come on, Mom, we can't make a mess either. But Mom didn't change the deployment of her pussy. I whispered again.

"Thank god he's in. Now we won't get caught. And he feels so good. Oh yes, push it in me."

More strokes. Come on Mom. Let me. Then it happened. One stroke I was trying to lift up into her pussy, the next, when I shoved forward it pushed inside her hot, wet slit and I felt her soaking walls close over me like a tight glove. I didn't stop like the son in my story, I kept pushing in, inexorably, until I was all the way. I stopped then, jubilant, ecstasy overwhelming me. Ahhhhhhhh.

Out, I dragged my cock out as slowly as I could manage, stopping with the head of my cock just outside her pussy, then started shoving it back in again just as slowly until I was once again buried to the hilt, squishing her ass cheeks as I pressed in hard. I could feel her gripping me, squeezing and pulling. Mother. God. I was in her cunt, it was so beautiful. Fucking her, fucking her, moving faster now, up to a good steady fucking.

She was moaning into the pillow now. I was still hanging on to her nipples. There was no talking now. I was concentrating on fucking her, delighting in the feel of her ass as I dug inside her pussy, grinding it down into the mattress. I began whispering again but I wasn't telling the story, or was I?

"Fucking mom," I whispered, springing down onto her cheeks. "Fucking you," I gasped, grinding my cock around in a circle when I was down to my root. "The best fuck in the world," I cried, the first blast bursting inside her. "Fuck," I whispered with each subsequent squirt.

I lay on Mom for quite a while. She didn't move or make a sound, continuing to be asleep. I knew she wasn't but was happy to go along with it. I was also happy to get hard again. I pulled out, as if I was quitting, then quickly shoved back in, triggering an audible moan. I started fucking her again, loving it when she began moving her hips to meet my thrusts. It was a longer fuck with a much more intense come, though not as copious.

The bed was empty the next morning. I dressed and wandered out to the kitchen where Mom and Nana were talking over a cup of coffee, both still dressed in their bathrobes.

"Morning, sleepyhead," they both chimed in at the same time, then burst out laughing at themselves.

"You're all cheery this morning," I said.

Nana looked very pleased. "Yes," she said. "Your mother is staying on for another week or so."

I spun around to look at them. Both were smiling at each other, Mom turning to smile at me, taking a sip from her coffee, her eyes looking directly into mine.

"You don't mind, do you?" Nana asked. "Staying longer with us old folks?"

"No," I smiled back. "Not at all. It's very relaxing here. I sleep like a log here, it's so quiet."

"Well, I'd better go get dressed, it's past eight o' clock already," Nana said.

Mom stood too, taking her cup and Nana's to the sink. She turned around to look at me.

"Do you really not mind, sweetie? I could get you a flight home if you want."

I stepped close to Mom, putting my hand on her shoulder, looking down, noticing that she wasn't wearing anything under her robe which had loosened sufficiently for me to just see the bare sides of her tits, the ones I'd held so long last night.

"I'd rather stay here with you, Mom."

She saw where I was looking.

"Don't be a brat, Craig."

"Ok Mom. Not until we see that lady and her son again."

"Brat," she spoke over her shoulder as she walked out of the kitchen. I watched her walk away, enjoying the sway of her body, the line of her robe as her hips and legs pressed against one side and then the other, until she disappeared. I could hardly wait to go to bed again. I called out to her just before she entered the bedroom.

"Do you want to go shopping again, Mom?"
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Of course, she answered 'Yes'; is there another answer to that question, from an honest woman?

I did my level best to be the best shopping companion in the world and Mom was truly appreciative in the clothes she picked to try on, and for me to review. She really gave me an eyeful with her selections, especially in the lingerie department. But first, I had to pay my dues by dragged through purse shops, cosmetics departments, body shops and some kind of arts and crafts market.

But the highlight of the day was meeting that mother and her son. We first met them on the way down the elevator. Mom was a bit flustered because she had just removed her bra and got it stuffed into her bag when the elevator stopped at their floor. Mom's face was little flushed as they stepping in and greeted us, obviously recognizing us. I noticed both of them glance at Mom's chest though only the son took a second look. I was pleased by that and smiled when he looked up and saw that he'd been caught. He went a little red but his eyes cruised over Mom's blouse again and returned to my face. Smiling, he looked at his mother standing in front of him, as Mom was standing in front of me, and stretched his hand out to place it on her hip, but slightly back and lower so that his fingers actually landed in the little hollow at the side of her right cheek. He applied a gentle pressure and she responded by taking a half step to the left. He left his hand there and I could see his mother blushing and realized she was acutely conscious of its presence though her eyes were fixed dead ahead. Just before we reached the ground floor, the son looked at me again, smiled, and slid his hand up to his mother's waist, giving it a small squeeze. They stepped out first and walked to a waiting cab without turning around. I had the funny feeling that Mom had been just as aware of the son's touch, even though her eyes were fixed dead ahead like the other mom's.

That night we watched the news after dinner and then played a game of dominoes with Nana and Gramps at my suggestion, though Mom seemed to be equally keen. I was trying to make sure my grandparents were really tired so they would sleep heavily ... I had plans for the night. Those plans became more vivid when Mom's foot reached out to brush my leg, bare because all I was wearing was a t-shirt and pair of shorts. Feeling the bottom of her toes scrape up my leg caused my third leg to bulge tightly against my shorts. I had to change positions several times to relieve the pressure while the game continued normally except for Mom's strange smile. I almost came when she flashed her eyes at me and lowered her lashes seductively as her smile broadened. Perhaps knowing the effect she was having on me, her foot withdrew.

After Nana and Gramps went to bed Mom and I played a game of crib. Our hands accidentally clashed while counting points and after that there were many incidental collisions, all followed by gentle strokes of fingers along the back of a hand or a forearm. Eventually, our feet began to make contact, followed with toe strokes up the other's leg. We were pretty touchy feely. After the game, I began shuffling the cards but Mom got up from the table.

"I'm going to bed. Shopping really wore me out. Will you give me a minute before you come, Craig?"

"Sure Mom. No sweat," I assured her.

I was suddenly worried that maybe she had been putting off going to bed with me, that she really was tired. She wasn't going to let me watch her undress? She must know how much I liked that. If she was denying that she must be having second thoughts and didn't want me to get excited. But then why was she playing footsie with me? I couldn't wait any longer. I had to know. I got up and went straight for the bedroom, belatedly realizing I had better turn out the lights in case Nana or Gramps noticed the lights under their door and got up to turn them off. It was a mortal sin to waste electricity.

I was hustling in the dark when I reached the door barely avoiding the furniture in the faint glow of city night light filtering through the windows. I forced myself to pause and to take a deep breath before opening the door as quietly as I could, hoping to catch Mom still up, perhaps in the bathroom, partly undressed.​