Incest/Taboo The Mom Memories

Mom smiled, seeming very pleased. My eyes ran down her body, over her ample breasts and down her legs, then back up to rest on her skirt, just below her waist. Mom watched my perusal, taking a deep breath when my eyes passed over her breasts, causing them to expand and lift.

"See anything you like, Mister?" she said in a mock hooker voice.

"Umhmmm," I nodded.

"I'm up here," she laughed.

I kept my eyes fixed on her skirt.

"Jack wants to be a bad boy, again, doesn't he?" she asked.

I nodded.

"Well, he's going to have to wait until the weekend," Mom said, pushing her hair up behind her head and striking a teasing pose.

"That's two days away, Mom," I complained. "Can't you just give naughty Jack a little look, to tide him over?"

"It's too dangerous. His Dad's right upstairs."

"But he never comes down to the laundry room. He's allergic to it."

Mom laughed out loud. "You have a point there," she said. She dropped her hands to her skirt, grasping it on the outside of her legs, lifting it a little, teasing. "I don't know, though."

"Come on, Mom," I begged, "just a little peek."

"I don't think so," she replied, but lifted her skirt up a little more anyway.

"Please, Mom. I'll be good."

"What makes you think I want you to be good?" she teased, pulling her skirt higher, now more than halfway from her knees.

"I'll be whatever you want me to." I could feel myself tingling in my jeans. I knew she was teasing me now, that she would probably let me have a look but not touch her, not while Dad was in the house.

"You really want it, don't you?" Mom's voice was suddenly hoarse, possibly reacting to my obvious need. She pulled her skirt up high enough so I could see her panties peeking out underneath. She swished the skirt from side to side. My mouth was dry, my tongue slipped out to lick my lips.

Mom smiled, "Is that true? Do you really need to see it?" I recognized the excitement in her voice. She was getting into it too.

I dropped to my knees in front of her, gambling on humor. "Yes," I gasped, feigning exaggerated sincerity," I need to pray to the panty god."

Mom laughed out loud again but her voice was still excited when she spoke, "Then pray."

"Oh, great panty god, show yourself, reveal yourself to your true believers," I grasped Mom's legs behind her knees, pulling them slightly apart.

Slowly, Mom raised her skirt higher and higher, until she was holding it by her hips, her panties fully exposed, allowing me to see far more than I had in the car that day.

I pushed my face in close, pulling her legs apart some more, sniffing her musky odor. She was excited, I could smell her dampness already. Her pussy quivered behind her panties, shaking from the washing machine as it rumbled through its load. I slid my hands up the back of her legs, my fingers stretching around the inside of her legs. Up, up, until my fingers were resting below her panty legs.

"Stop, Jack," she said, breathlessly. "You can't touch me, it's too dangerous ... your Dad," her voice trailed off as I looked up into her eyes, then back to stare at her pussy, my need obvious in my eyes. I pressed my fingers into the inside of her thighs, pressuring her legs open.

"Jack, no," Mom said, her voice barely audible above the washer, but her hands still held her skirt high on her hips, leaving herself open to me.

I think she expected me to touch her then, to move my fingers higher onto her panties, but I think I really surprised her, judging by her gasp, when I stuck my tongue way out and pressed it against her mound where it pouted out the farthest, letting it stick there, pushing into the little cleft.

"Oh, god, Jack," she cried, "ohhhhhhhh."

I pushed my tongue against her hard then and when her hands came down to grasp my head, she held me instead of pushing me away. I chewed on her, munching her pouting lips in my mouth. Mom was going wild, 'ohhhhing' and 'ahhhhing'. I spread her legs wide and pushed in, letting her legs slip onto my shoulders while I munched away. I ran my tongue hard side to side under her panties. She really seemed to love that but the best part, I think, was when I pushed my tongue up her center and dug it into her above her mound where I thought her clit would be. She went crazy, jamming her pussy against my face, finally slowing down, just shuddering on my mouth, pressing my nose flat against my face. Then she went still, pushing me away.

Mom turned as I stood. Her voice was normal again, "You may as well take those jeans off while you're down here," she said. "Come on, you can take a clean pair from the dryer. It'll save me carrying them up and down the stairs."

I shucked my jeans off. I never knew what to expect from her. I tossed my jeans on the floor in front of the dryer.

"Your shorts too," she said.

I shucked those too and tossed them down. Mom turned then, smiling, looking down at my rock hard, youthful pole aiming right at her.

"Well, well," she said, "what have we here? You're very naughty, Jack, to show that to your mother. What would your coach say, if he knew you were showing your cock to your mother? You're very bad."

I didn't say anything, afraid to break the spell of whatever game she was playing. I stood there, my cock wavering before her, not the least bit interested in dying down.

Mom suddenly stepped forward, grabbing my cock, hissing in my face, "I have to punish you Jack. I'm going to have to be rough with you." Mom started jacking my cock, slowly, but pulling hard on it, almost painfully.

"How do you like that?" she hissed, jacking me harder, faster. "You don't, do you?"

Yank, yank, yank. Mom's eyes were wild, watching herself manhandle my cock.

"Are you going to behave, now? Huh? Are you?" she yelled, forgetting her caution about Dad being right upstairs.

Mom pulled her skirt up with her free hand, baring her panties again. She pressed closer to me, jacking my cock, pulling it toward her until my tip was banging against her. She stopped and rubbed my head on her mound, then started slowly jacking me against that puffiest part of her panties. She was gasping now.

"You bad fucking boy," she hissed, repeating it over and over, yanking my cock against her panty clad pussy.

It was too much. I came, splashing my cum all over the front of her panties and up onto the skirt where she was holding it above her belly. She moaned as I released spurt after spurt, holding my cock still against her mound, quivering. I think she came.

When I was finished, Mom dropped her skirt, and turned her back to me.

"Get dressed in clean clothes and go upstairs to visit with your Dad," she said. She didn't make any move to clean herself or take her spunked clothes off. She just stood there, though I knew she was covered in my cum. I dressed and left.

"Don't you dare tell your mom," Carrie insisted, looking out the kitchen window into the backyard, watching my Dad and her husband drink a beer on the lawn as they chatted. She was holding her skirt high, showing me the back of the little panties she'd been telling me about since Dad and I arrived after my game on Saturday, supposedly to help Uncle Jim with some chores. But he'd forgotten all about it, so he and Dad decided to have a beer, leaving Aunt Carrie and I alone, just what Mom didn't want.

"She's so prudish, always has been," Carrie insisted, looking over her shoulder at me. "Do you like them?"

"Love them," I answered, the truth of it obvious in my eyes as I gazed at the delicate little triangle trying to cover at least part of her ass. Her ass really was surprisingly nice. Her cheeks were quite prominent, sticking out, but they had a really nice pear shape to them and were quite firm, something that wasn't that obvious when covered by jeans or a skirt.

"You have a really great ass, Aunt Carrie."

"You shouldn't talk like that. Anyway, you're supposed to be looking at my panties, not my ass."

"But your ass is beautiful, Aunt Carrie."

"I told you, you can call me Carrie when we're alone."

"Don't you like me calling you Auntie?" I stepped closer to her. "I kind of like it," I said.

"I don't mind," she husked, "if you like it."

"I do," I whispered in her ear, standing very close behind her, touching her panties on the outside of each cheek where they desperately tried to cover about a quarter of her supple ass.

"I didn't say you could touch me, Jack."

"I know," I whispered back, sliding my palms onto her little pears, squeezing them lightly in my hands.

"Oh, Jack. You're being very naughty."

"I know," I whispered, continuing to massage her cheeks. "Does Uncle Jim do you like this, from behind?"

"JACK!"

"Does he put his thing against your bum?"

"Of course not. He would never do that."

"He's crazy, then. You have a gorgeous ass, Auntie," I whispered in her ear, then kissed it. I used the distraction to hook my thumbs in the waistband of her panties, and tugged them down her cheeks.

"Jack, stop," she protested.

"Are they coming back in?" I asked.

"No."

"Then let me see. You showed me your panties, but I want to see your bare ass."

"No, that's too far."

"I'll tell Mom you showed me your panties," I threatened. I tugged her panties down from her cheeks, leaving them stretched across the top of her legs. "Just let me look at it," I purred, "it's so beautiful it could be a shrine."

I kicked her feet wider, parting her legs. "Wow, just awesome." I ran my hands over her ass despite my promise just to look. "That's incredible, Auntie," I whispered, sliding my hand along her crack and underneath her bum. "You have the most awesome bum in the world. Are you sure Uncle Jim doesn't touch you from behind, like this?" I slipped my hand right under her, sliding my fingers forward to rub along her bare pussy.

"Jack, Jack," she gasped, her hips jerking forward, and then back as my finger slipped into her damp groove.

"Are they coming?" I whispered.

"No. But stop. You can't," she cried, but she didn't resist as I used my left forearm on her back to press her forward, reaching down and pushing my fingers into her, right up into her wet cunt. Quickly, I jammed my hand against her, fingering her cunt rapidly, the wet squishy sound bearing witness to how horny my aunt really was.

"ohhhh, ohhh, ohh, ahh, ahhh, ahhh," she gasped, pushing her bottom out to provide better access for my supposedly unwanted touch.

"I'd take you from behind, Auntie," I whispered harshly, shoving my fingers in and out, reaming her pussy, "like this, against the counter."

"No, Jack ... don't," she moaned. I slipped my hand around lto ightly grasp her by the throat.

"Don't you want get fucked from behind?" I gasped, feeling my load surging from my balls, mentally trying to stop it before I messed my shorts. I shoved my fingers right in and held them, vibrating, until she came. I couldn't help shooting into my own pants as she did.

When we were done, Carrie stood at the counter, not even pulling her panties up. Perhaps she was in shock, realizing that she had lost control of her little game with me.

I rubbed my hand over her ass. "Awesome," I said, dipping down to rub the wet part underneath. "I need to have you," I said, "I can't wait long."

"I can't, Jack. I just can't do that."

"Think about it, Auntie," I nibbled her ear, "next time you're in bed with old Jim on top of you, and then think about me instead, behind you, hard and ready."

I left. On the way home, my jersey covering my soaked lap to hide it from Dad, I couldn't believe how confidently I had handled my aunt. I don't know where that had come from, but it had been so easy. As soon as I showed a little confidence she let me take over. Women must like a man to be decisive, I realized. It was like if the man was in control, then they weren't responsible for what happened.

I could hardly wait to get home, to see Mom, to crank our little game up another notch.
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I paused. There was more of Jack's letter, much more. But I needed a breather. I went out for lunch. When I came back, Mom still wasn't home so I returned to the study. There was still no activity on the monitors, so I continued with Jack's letter.
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"How was the game," Mom asked cheerily when Dad and I got home.

"Okay," I tossed back as Dad and I sat at the kitchen table.

"Okay?" Dad said, "the kid was awesome, he was the star of the game."

"That's great," Mom said. "So, did you go out to celebrate? Its almost dinner time."

"No, no," Dad replied, "we dropped in to see if Jim still needed help."

"Oh," Mom's tone became noticeably less cheery within a single syllable. "And did he?"

"No, no," Dad said, "he'd forgotten all about it. You know Jim."

"So what kept you?" Mom was fussing around in the cupboards as she talked.

"Oh, we just sat outside and had a couple of beers," Dad answered.

"To celebrate Jack's game?" Mom casually asked. I could tell she was digging for information but Dad didn't seem to see it.

"No. Just Jim and I. Jack stayed inside and visited with his Aunt Carrie."

"Oh, I see," Mom said, quietly, turning to work at the far counter, her back towards us.

Dad got up to get another beer out of the fridge. "Jack?" he held the beer up toward me. I shook my head. "Call me when dinner's ready," Dad said, walking out, "I'm gonna watch the news."

I sat alone, watching Mom, knowing she was pissed that I'd been alone with Carrie. I watched her, admiring her legs, at least from the part that was showing from her knees down. I liked the way her bottom shook as she cut vegetables up on the counter. Carrie had a dynamite ass. I had been really surprised by how awesome it looked, how sexy her protruding cheeks were when bared. Mom's ass looked to be the same, just like everything else about them. I could see her cheeks sticking out, jiggling under her pleated skirt. As my cock tingled, I was surprised that I hadn't noticed her bottom before and, despite my desperate need for a shower, I couldn't pull myself away from watching it. Having seen Carrie's magnificent butt, I could hardly wait to see Mom's.

I stood and walked to stand about five feet behind Mom, still holding my jersey in front of my shorts.

"Nothing happened, Mom," I quietly offered. "We just talked. Aunt Carrie wasn't about to do anything with Dad and Uncle Jim right outside."

Mom kept slicing and dicing for a bit but then responded, "No. I guess not. But I bet she wanted to."

"Maybe," I laughed, "She looked pretty good from behind, I have to admit."

"From behind? What are you talking about?"

"I mean she looks good in tight pants, that's all."

Mom seemed angry again. "Oh, so she was showing off her tush."

"Well its worth showing, Mom. Almost as much as yours."

"Uh huh. So you think I'll feel better if you tell me I have a nice fanny too?"

"What do you think I'm looking at?" I laughed.

Mom whirled around, the knife still in her hand. "Oh, you," she cried, her face flushing red.

I backed off. "Whoa Mom," I laughed. "I was just looking. I just wanted to make sure yours was the best."

Mom looked down at the knife in her hand and at me backing away and laughed herself. "And?"

"Definitely, Mom. You're the best."

I turned to leave for the shower.

"You'd better say that, young man," she called after me.

I whacked off in the shower, partly because I was remembering Carrie's ass, partly because I was imagining Mom's, and partly because I'd sat and talked to Mom with my shorts full of cum after fingering her best friend. Unfortunately, there was no practice tomorrow, so I didn't know how to get some alone time with Mom.

Mom had made a roast beef with yorkshire pudding and potatoes around the roast, the way I loved them. We had wine for dinner, to celebrate my great game. I helped Mom with the dishes after we had custard for dessert while Dad disappeared into the living room. Since the good china couldn't go in the dishwasher we did the whole lot by hand. I spent a lot of time behind Mom, drying dishes, and watching her behind.

"I know what you're doing back there, mister. You just remember your Dad is right around the corner," Mom gave me a quiet warning to behave myself. "I don't think he'd understand you staring at your mother's butt."

"I'd hear him coming," I defended myself.

"I don't care. Cut it out."

I put a bowl she'd just washed back into the sink.

"There's nothing wrong with that, it's clean," she complained, carefully turning it over in her hands, inspecting it closely.

"It's dirty," I said, but Mom was suspicious.

"You're just trying to make this take longer, you little brat," she accused me.

"Why would I want to take longer doing the dishes?" I asked.

"Yeah, I wonder, Mom," replied sarcastically.

I laughed at her obvious implication. "Come on, Mom. You may have a great heinie, but I don't think I'd do dishes all night just to look at it."

"Really?" Mom asked, taking a plate she'd just put in the rack and rewashing it, "So I guess it's not all that great then, maybe not as nice as Carrie's."

I leaned close to her and quietly said, "If you lift your skirt so I can see better, I could tell for sure."

Mom pushed her elbow back to shove me away. "Stop that nonsense," she whispered. "Your Dad is sitting right there in the living room."

I took a plate to dry and wandered over to the kitchen door while I dried it, peeking into the living room. I sauntered back, put the plate on the counter, and stood behind Mom, without taking another dish.

Leaning in by her ear again, I whispered, "He's sleeping. Passed right out."

"No way," Mom replied.

"Go see for yourself," I suggested. "By the way, he and Uncle Jim had more like four our five beers, so with a couple glasses of wine, he's probably done for at least a couple of hours."

I could see Mom was angry with Dad. "He knows he's not supposed to have that much alcohol, especially while he's on his medicine. Damn it. When will he ever learn?" Mom started scrubbing quite vigorously, venting her anger on a pot.

"Jeez, Mom. Did you know your little tush looks even more beautiful when it's angry?"

Some of her anger dissipated when she heard my ludicrous comment.

"Good grief. One track mind. Can't you think of anything else?" she said, exasperated.

"Not when you're in the room," I admitted, "and I think about you most of the rest of the time too. I even thought about you while I was visiting with Aunt Carrie," I added, truthfully.

"You didn't."

"I did."

Mom's scrubbing relaxed to a gentle wash, slowly rubbing the scrubber lightly over the same pot.

"Let me see it, Mom."

"What?"

"Your butt."

"No!"

"Just a little peek."

"Your Dad is right next door."

"He's sleeping, Mom," I argued. "Just let me lift your skirt for a quick peek," I pleaded, "you're wearing panties anyway."

"Jack, for god's sake."

"I didn't look at Aunt Carrie's," I lied, "because YOU'RE my Mom."

I dropped that bomb, feeding off her similar statement to me, hoping to push her jealousy buttons. Mom didn't reply, she just kept scrubbing that same pot, but more roughly now. I could see she was pissed about me mentioning Carrie, reminding her that I'd been alone with her while Dad and Uncle Jim downed several beers, and no doubt not liking the implied threat to do something with Carrie if Mom wouldn't.

I walked over to the doorway and checked on Dad and then back to Mom. "He's snoring, Mom."

She didn't acknowledge me, she just kept scrubbing that same pot.

"I'm going to take a quick peek," I said, reaching down to grasp the hem of her skirt behind her knees. Mom kept scrubbing, ignoring me. "Just a peek," I said, slowly pulling her skirt up the back of her legs, feeling a little thrill as the back of her thighs were revealed, then her panties as I lifted the skirt up and over her bottom.

I was right. Her butt was just like Carrie's, sloping out from her back in a gentle curve, like following the curve from the top of a large pear onto the bulbous part of the fruit. Her cheeks were widely separated, leaving a distinct divide between them, unlike some older women whose cheeks were mashed together. Her panties covered less than half her butt, and there was an enticing gap where they stretched across the canyon between her cheeks.

"My god, Mom. You're awesome!" I cried, stunned that her butt was even nicer than Carrie's. How did these older women hide such great asses?

"It's demeaning," Mom said, "you looking at me like that. It's gross."

"Demeaning?" I repeated incredulously. "How can it be demeaning to look at something so beautiful? You have the most gorgeous ass, Mom."

"It's just a bum, a place for doing your business. It's not beautiful."

"You're wrong, Mom. You have an incredible ass and I love the look of it." I released one hand from her skirt and moved it to rest on the bare skin of her hip above her panties. "You can't tell me that Dad doesn't spend a lot of time looking a this little wonder," I patted the side of her right cheek to make my point.

"Of course he doesn't!" Mom barked, in her anger, not realizing I was touching her bottom, having let my hand stay on the side of her cheek.

I pushed her further. "I don't believe it. You mean, he's never put you over on your tummy?" I let my fingers slide over the underside of her cheek. God, what an ass.

"Jack! Don't talk filthy like that. That's how animals do it."

"That's how women like to do it nowadays," I whispered, squeezing her right cheek, "that's what the guys at school say, anyway."

I moved my hand away and let Mom's skirt drop. She seemed to be pretty rattled and I didn't want to go too far. She seemed to breathe easier once she was covered her again.

"Are you sure Dad doesn't touch your bum?"

"Of course he doesn't."

"He's nuts then. I'd love to touch it."

"Why?" Mom seemed genuinely perplexed.

"Because it's beautiful, and it's yours, and ..." I pushed another button, "because I'd be the first, the only one you let touch it."

I watched her face, from behind her to the side, watched the flicker of her eyes as my words sunk in. I spoke again, before she thought too much about it.

"You haven't, have you?" I asked, "let anyone else?"

I put my hand on her cheek, outside her skirt, possessively, like I had a right to do so.

"No," Mom replied quietly. "You'd be the first."

"That's great," I whispered, letting my hand slide across to her other cheek, then brushing around in an oval across both. "Just me then, not even Dad."

Mom's face tilted forward, her chin hitting her chest. I continued brushing my hand across the back of her skirt, hoping to trigger a sensation she hadn't experienced before.

"Alright," she said quietly.

As soon as she said that I put both arms around her, hugging her from behind, whispering in her ear, "I love you, Mom."

"Mmhmm."

"Will you let me look again when we're by ourselves?" I asked.

"Yes," she whispered.
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I noticed the phone was blinking. It was a message from Mom. Christ, the phone had rung and I hadn't even heard it. Mom's message said she was staying at the golf club for dinner with her friends and that she would be late, so I was to fend for myself. I looked at my watch. It was almost five. I wandered out to tell Mary that Mom wasn't coming home but I would watch over Dad.

Dad had been good today, Mary told me. He should rest now for the rest of the night, she said. I asked her how things were going with Paul. Fine, she told me. He wasn't reading comics at all anymore. She gave me a funny smile then, like we were sharing a secret, then said she had to go, Paul would be waiting for his dinner.

How could I get close to this sexy woman again, I wondered.

I made myself a quick dinner and took it back to the study. Instead of continuing with Jack's monograph, I watched the video monitors live while I ate.

Mary and Paul bustled about the kitchen making dinner, mostly in silence, but there was a new intimacy in the air. Paul touched his mom quite a bit. Nothing overtly sexual, just little touches on her shoulder, her upper arm, her hip or waist if he was nearby. The only overtly sexual touch came when she was washing vegetables in the sink and he hugged her from behind, leaning down to kiss her neck. He paused after kissing her, as if thinking about something, then leaned down to give her a much longer kiss in the nape of her neck, sliding up to kiss her ear, his hands sipping around her waist to her tummy but not high enough to caress her breasts. Before stepping away, Paul's ass pushed forward, clearly pressing his front into his mother's behind.

"Stop that," Mary slapped behind her but Paul had already stepped back out of the way.

Paul laughed. "I've been good today, Mom," he said, "very good."

"Uh huh. Well, you'll just have to wait until after dinner to have your treat."

Paul smiled, seemingly relaxed. "I know," he said, "I'm not in any hurry."
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