Incest/Taboo The Mom Memories: Kevin's Story

As I brought my hands back up, her knees suddenly parted wide, forcing a small gap at the side of her panties by the hollows of her legs.

"Do the insides now, Kevin," Mom whispered.

I was stunned by this unexpected encouragement. My breath short, I slid my fingers over her knees and started down. Oh, the skin was so much softer here. My fingers trembled as they rose over the wide part of her inner thigh on the final approach toward her panties. I could hardly breathe. I stopped, afraid to go closer, returning to her knees. Several more times I traced my fingers down but was unable to move lower.

"Closer," Mom whispered.

But I retreated again. When I reached my turning point again, her legs moved wider apart.

"Closer," she whispered.

I pushed past my barrier, but only half an inch. Again, into the breach, and past again. My breathing was ragged, Mom's was simply quicker. Down I went, to the barrier and beyond again, just another half an inch. Again, again, again. I was there! My fingers were right beside her panties.

I forgot to pull back. I sat there, leaning far over Mom's head, close, watching my fingers on her inner thighs, beside her panties. Without comprehending, I watched as my finger, of their own accord, stretched open to form a semicircle between each thumb and the fingers of each hand. They slipped around, making an arc around the edge of her panties.

"I think that's enough for now, Kevin. We should be going." I looked down at Mom, she hadn't opened her eyes.

"Just a little longer, Mom."

"No," she said, pushing herself up and closing her legs. She turned and gave me a quick kiss on my lips. "Women will find it hard to say no to you, you have a way about you." Mom stood up, brushing her dress free of grass, "Come on, let's find another spot, maybe back in the trees a bit out of the sun, for our picnic." Mom headed toward the car, leaving me to pick up the blanket.

We drove about for more than an hour, taking our time, down little roads and then back out again, admiring small cottages and big old farmhouses we saw along the way. We didn't talk about what had just happened, and I didn't ogle Mom's legs. Mom loosened her seatbelt and tucked her legs up beside herself. I told her she should keep her belt on but she ignored me, squiggling around to get comfortable, pulling her dress up a bit to show her legs.

"You seem to have gone off my legs, sir."

"I don't think so, Mom," I smiled casually, glancing down at her.

"Well, if you're so worried about the seatbelt, pull off up there. We can walk over to the other side of that little hill over there for our lunch."

I pulled off and we carefully climbed over the barb wire fence. I loved the carefree look of Mom as she walked briskly up the little hill. It was a good spot. We were alone on the other side, invisible from the road. We sat down and had our lunch. I was surprised to find that Mom had brought a bottle of red wine. We lay back on the blanket, sipping our wine and enjoying the scenery. Mom, the hills, me, her legs as she lay on her side facing me.

Mom noticed me looking at her legs again and she quietly dropped her hand to the side of her leg and began tugging her dress up, and inch or two at a time, every few minutes, teasing me. When the dress couldn't go any further, she lifted her hips and tugged it hard, bringing the hem right up to her hip. It dropped across her front just below her groin, allowing me the full vision of her legs, but not her panties.

"Not so interested in the seat belt, now?" Mom laughed, following my gaze down to her exposed thighs.

"No," I answered, my voice a little hoarse, but not from the wine. I reached down, tentatively, to touch her thigh. She recognized that I was silently asking permission as I paused before making contact. When she said nothing, I slipped my fingers between her legs, just below the hem. I gazed into her eyes, softly regarding my face, left hand between her legs, right hand on the blanket holding my glass of wine, next to hers doing the same.

"You've trapped yourself," Mom laughed. "You're won't be able to move your hand when it's squeezed in there."

I wiggled my fingers, proving her point. I returned her laugh, "Oh well, it's not so bad here."

Mom laughed out loud at that.

"Of course, if you opened your legs for me ..."

Mom looked aghast, then smiled widely, "Opened my legs for you? Now, that's forward, young man."

Nevertheless, her top leg lifted leaving a small gap between her legs. I began moving my fingers in a small oval from there to almost touching her panties with the side of my index finger. We gazed at each other for several minutes while I did that, our breathing becoming more rapid with each minute. Mom raised her glass and sipped her wine.

"Don't like the wine?" she asked, that little smile taking over her mouth again.

She knew I couldn't drink without removing my hand, since I was propping my weight up on the elbow of the hand holding my wine. She laughed at my expense again and lifted her glass to my lips, letting me take a small sip before returning it to her own mouth. I had paused when she held the glass to my lips, holding my hand still right below her panties, the edge of my index finger actually touching them. When she finished taking her sip, I asked for another and stopped there again, this time pressing slightly harder as I leaned toward her glass.

And then, I almost blew it.

As she took another sip, I asked, "Are you going to let me do everything Matt did?"

She went rigid, pulling the glass form her lips.

"What did he tell you?"

I didn't respond verbally, realizing I'd said something dreadfully wrong, and not wanting to make it worse, but I couldn't help looking at her breasts.

"Oh," she said. "He told you I showed them to him?"

"He uh said you uh let him touch them."

"Let him touch them. He said that?" her voice was a little angry now in an incredulous tone as she looked straight ahead. She turned to face me directly, "Is that what you want? To do what Matt did? Tit for tat?"

I looked at Mom, a little shell shocked, fear, I'm sure, showing on my face. "No, Mom, no." I shook my head emphatically, "No."

Mom looked at me, steadily, then pulled back, drank the rest of her wine, and tossed the glass in the grass to the side of the blanket.

"Let's not have any more talk about Matt, then," she said. She twisted onto her back, pulling her legs from my hand, putting her arm over her eyes to shade them from the sun. "Finish your wine," she said, "and then let me rest against your knees so you can do my legs again. I liked it when you did that, it's your specialty, I think."

I tossed my wine off in one swig and moved behind her, incredibly relieved that the crisis had passed. I swore to never mention my brother's name again. I placed my hands under her shoulders and shuffled my knees under her back as she raised herself up. While I played with her hair, Mom bent her knees, tucking her feet very close to her bottom, allowing her dress to fall down her thighs again. I reached forward to caress her legs.

This time I stroked all of her legs, repeatedly, from foot to thigh, again and again, stroking softly for a long time. Our breathing was quite irregular. Mom stopped me by reaching up to grasp my wrists in her hands.

"Let me catch my breath for a few minutes," she gasped.

I thought that was it. She lay on my knees, eyes closed, regaining her normal breathing pattern. Then her hand slipped off my wrists, her elbows falling to her side, her hands resting on her chest. She lay still but her breathing was still heavy enough to make her breasts push her hands up and down, something that immediately captured my attention.

Then ... her fingers moved, she undid the top button of her dress, then stopped.

"Do you mind, Kevin?" she whispered, "It's so hot in the sun."

It took a moment for me to jerk myself into action. My fingers fumbled with the next button but I finally managed to get it undone in only three times as long as it had taken her. I stopped, unsure of whether I was to simply loosen her dress or had been given permission to see her breasts.

"I'll tell you when to stop," Mom whispered.

I continued with the next button and, hesitantly, the next. Though the dress still covered her, it was sufficiently undone that I could tell there wasn't a bra underneath. My boner was bending in my jeans big time. I realized I had stopped on this discovery but Mom hadn't said to, so I started on the next button, making sure during my fumbling to accidently spread the lapels of her open dress. I proceeded to the next button and did that one with some semblance of efficiency. It was the last one.

I leaned over her, uncertain and eager. I dearly wanted to plunge my hands inside that dress but remembered Mom's appreciation of the way I took my time. I'm sure Matt would have reached in and grabbed a handful of tit, and that is probably what she expected me to do. Instead, I carefully pulled her dress apart until the edge of the dress was just hiding her nipples. Her chest was pulsing with her quickening breath. I nudged the material over a little more, just exposing both nipples, which now stood up past the thick material of her dress.

Gingerly, I inserted my hands under the dress above her breasts, palms flat, and slid them down and outward, cupping the side of each globe. Letting my fingers slide further around and underneath, I pulled each breast up toward me, sliding my thumbs down at the same time. The parts of my hands met on her nipples, fingers from the bottom, thumbs on top. I pinched gently, and pulled. I loved the sharp and deep intake of breath that resulted as I pinched her tits.

"Awesome, Mom. Just awesome."

"Shhhhh, Kevin." There was a break in her speech as I rolled her nipples. "It's late. You only have a few minutes, and then we have to go."

It was half an hour later that Mom finally buttoned her dress. On the way home, she said, "Now I want you to stop this nonsense at home before you get us both into big trouble, do you hear me?"

"Yes, Mom," I answered, sulking a bit.

"Don't sulk," Mom cut in, "I let you do more than Matt. I had a bra on when I let him, so you're way ahead."

That perked me up. I saw Matt undo her dress and take hold of her, but I didn't know she was wearing a bra. The very fact she didn't wear a bra with me was encouraging.

"So you want me to behave myself now?" I asked.

"Yes."

"At home?"

"Yes," she confirmed, a suspicious questioning tone apparent in her voice.

"So will you go for a drive with me next week, Mom?"

Mom laughed when she looked at me, and slapped me playfully on the shoulder. "You brat."

"Well?"

"I guess you did make my legs feel nice. Maybe. If you behave yourself."

I looked down at Mom's legs, since she'd mentioned them. She noted my line of sight, and made a comment about not being used to tight dresses. Then she lifted herself and pulled the dress way up her legs. I reached over past the stick shift to her seat and rested my hand on the inside of her left leg. A moment later, sure of her acceptance, I pulled it toward me. Most of the way home, she let me run my fingers up and down the inside of her thigh.
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I was true to my word. I didn't bother Mom for at least four days. I have to admit, though, that it was awfully hard, especially later in the week when our Sunday drive was so close. Standing behind her doing the dishes for four days without trying to give her a kiss, put my hand on her waist, or brush against her behind, was mur*er. But on Friday night, I got a reprieve.

"You've been awfully good all week, mister," Mom said as soon as we started the dishes.

"I've tried hard, Mom. Are you going to come for a drive?" I asked, a little desperate.

"I haven't made up my mind yet," she replied.

"Mom," I complained.

"You've been good, it's true. But I have to say, you've been pretty boring all week."

I took a cup and dried it, looking at her as she scrubbed another. What was she saying? Did she want me to fool around? If I did, and I was wrong, she surely wouldn't come for a drive. What to do?

I finished the cup and put it away. As I passed behind her, I leaned in and gave her a kiss on her cheek.

"Sorry, Mom."

"That's ok."

I picked up the next dish, dried it, and put it away also. Then I stood behind her as she washed the next one. I kissed her cheek, and then her neck as she worked. She just smiled, so I kissed her again, letting my lips linger on her face. She finished the dish and started another. I didn't move to pick it up. Instead, I put my hands on her waist, and whispered, "Can we go to the same spot?"

"Don't you like to try new places?" she asked.

"I kind of like familiar ground," I replied, rubbing my hands up her waist, feeling the swell of her breasts.

"Do you now?"

"Yes. When you have the best ground, why go anywhere else?"

"Men always like to explore," Mom replied.

"True. But some discover new things on old ground," I whispered, leaning in against her. She felt softer tonight, different somehow. I pushed my hands forward a little so my fingers touched the sides of her breasts instead of her waist.

"So I'm old now, am I?" Mom teased, finishing another dish and putting it in the rack.

I pressed in harder and let my fingers slide under her breasts. "An old woman wouldn't feel like this."

Mom seemed pleased by my comment but she pushed me back and spread her arms to force my hands away from her. "You're falling behind. Let's get these dishes done now."

That was it for that night. Saturday, I had to work. Dinner was done and the dishes too by the time I got home, even though I rushed to get there. I was up early Sunday. It was a beautiful day. Mom made a great breakfast but wouldn't let me help with the dishes. She sent me out to help Dad in the yard. I was angry, thinking she'd drawn me in Friday night and was now canceling the drive. But when I got back in the house, she was waiting, dressed in her long coat and holding a picnic basket.

"Are you ready?" she asked, a little smirk on her face.

She asked me to stop as soon as we left town so she could take her coat off. She was wearing the same dress and she let the hem ride up as she got back into the car. I didn't stop at the Dairy Queen, I sped right past. Mom didn't protest, she simply reached across and laid her hand on my leg. "We're not in a hurry, Kevin," she said.

It was an hour before we arrived at our afternoon spot.

Quickly, I spread the blanket and we sat down to have our lunch and wine. I relaxed as we ate. I was filled with anticipation, but I somehow knew she would let me do what we'd done the week before. She teased me, but she wasn't mean. I enjoyed looking at her, her hair moving in the slight breeze. She had an easy manner when she was with me out here, I noticed, she was different. We took our time drinking our wine. Mom finished hers first and asked me if I was going to massage her like I had last week. "Of course," I assured her, sipping my wine.

"Don't hurry, take your time," she said as she got up on her knees, legs tucked underneath, lifted her fingers to her dress and began slowly undoing the buttons. She did all of them as I watched, moving at the same deliberate pace.

I finished my wine and tossed the glass aside, moving to kneel behind her and squat on my haunches, making a place for her to rest on my thighs, like she had before. Her hands reached down to grasp the hem of her dress and she tugged it up high on her legs as she wiggled herself back closer to me. I thought she was about to sit down and lean against my legs but she paused for a moment, then she started shrugging her shoulders, like something was bothering her.

Her dress slipped off one shoulder and then the other. I could see that she had pushed it off with her hands. She looked back at me then and smiled, then sat down and leaned back. There she lay, on my legs before me, her dress pushed down to her waist and her breasts bare and thrusting up toward me. God, this woman was exciting.

"I love the feel of your hands, Kevin. Love me with them," she whispered, closing her eyes.

I reached down to take a breast in each hand, testing their softness, rubbing my thumb down to meet my palm, nipple squeezed between. I pulled her nipples up about an inch and gently shook her tits. I let them drop, them pushed them flat with my palms and rolled her nipples around for several minutes, followed by an extended period of pinching and tugging her nipples.

Reluctantly, I moved to caress her legs. I repeated, as close as I could remember, the same sequence of stroking caresses I had done the previous week. I took a long time stroking her thighs until I reached the same point as the week before, my fingers spread around the edge of her panties. I think she'd been close to letting me touch her then, but she'd stopped me, enticing me away with the hint of her breasts. But she'd let me start with her breasts today.

"Touch my breasts again," she whispered.

"I'm almost finished your legs, Mom."

"Ok," she whispered back, "but just a bit longer."

I squeezed my hands together, just the slightest bit, pushing against her panties, shoving her womanhood up. Mom's breath sucked in hard. She seemed about to speak, to stop me. I flicked my thumbs down, brushing them over her panties, over her mound.

"Ohhhohhhohhh." Mom's hips moved, twisting her panties up against my thumbs. I don't think she could help it. I brushed my thumbs back and forth, pressing more firmly as I rubbed them along her pussy lips. I could feel they were damp even through the panties.

"Ohhhhh, ohhhhhhh, ohhhhh," Mom sighed and purred, music to my ears. I was proud that I could make her feel like this. Her eyes fluttered and she seemed about to speak again. I moved the fingers of my right hand into the center of her panties, on the lower side, and pushed, the tips of my middle three fingers making a hollow, between her lips. I began moving them in a circle, pressing in and out as I worked them around.

She was gone. Her hips began generating little thrusts, pushing her up against me. Her eyes were now screwed tightly shut, her face no longer serene.

I slipped the fingers of my top hand under the elastic of her panties, finding her groove and laying my long finger in it. I pressed down with my finger and released, then again and again, at a steady pace. Her hips were really straining now, pushing her pelvis against my hands. I slipped my lower fingers under the leg of her panties and pushed them inside, gratified by the wet, squishy sound as they slid in. Her hips began bucking furiously, there was no need to move my fingers, I just held them still while she did all the work. She was moaning. She seemed very close. A tremendous urge struck me. I leaned way over and covered her damp, panty covered mound with my mouth, pulling my upper fingers back to make room for my tongue, pushing it into the top of her panties.

Mom shuddered, lifting her ass off the ground, legs straining, heels dug into the blanket. Her whole body quivered as her pussy shoved frantically into my face. Between gasps she was wailing. She collapsed to the ground, my face landing half a second later cushioned by her panties and the puffy lips underneath. I took one last munch and was rewarded by a long, throbbing shove into against my face.

I don't think Mom knew what to do after that. She lay still, breathing very hard. My face was still on her panties but she didn't try to push me away. I realized that Mom didn't know how to handle letting herself get that carried away, but I didn't have a clue how to proceed either. I was very horny, so I just kept touching her. I was still kneeling with her head laying on my legs. I twisted my hips against her head, repeatedly pressing the bulge in my jeans into her hair. I moved my lips against her panties and slid my hands back to squeeze her tits. There was no way she could miss the point that I hadn't had mine.​