Brian began undressing his s****r by slowly unfastening the buttons of her blouse--the same one we had both been trying on a few moments earlier. When he was done with the last button, Kimmy, without removing the blouse, lowered her hands toward the swelling evidence of Brian's excitement, and my gaze followed. For just a few moments she seemed to fumble; then they turned, together, to look at me, play-acting looks of shocked amazement. There was a confused moment or two, and then I suddenly realized how this must look: two k**s, dressed, with their half-naked mom staring at her son's cock!
"OK, OK, you scoundrels, nice trick!" said I, my face flushing bright red.
"See, I told you it would work," I heard Kimmy tease her b*****r.
The levity broke tension for a moment, just enough to set up a new climb. In less time than it takes to describe it, it was back to the happy business at hand. Brian gently pulled open Kimmy's blouse and slid it off her shoulders, making sure to d**** his hands over the shapely curvature of her breasts as he did. Kimmy helped him off with his T-shirt and then they embraced, giving me my first sight of their intimacy. I saw her hands tenderly caressing the broad expanse of his well-muscled chest, then the acceleration of the heat as they pressed together, her breasts pressed against him, the hands enfolding each other, the lips pressed in the kiss of lovers. It was surreal, a sight hard to believe, and for a fleeting instant conventional wisdom rebelled painfully at the sight--but only for an instant, during which I reminded myself that they were adults, free to choose this, a fact I had long since accepted. With the passing of that impression sweetly came following that same rush of wildness within me that I knew coursed within them, driving the f***e of their own passion.
Their hands were around each others' hips now, pulling, forcing, thrusting together, Brian's swollen member, still imprisoned by denim, driving its f***e against Kimmy's jeans-clad hips, grinding with desire. I wanted to join them, but felt I should wait until invited. Instead I let their dreamy demonstration take hold of my innermost instincts, setting them afire, engrossing me, mesmerizing me, kindling within me a fire that was no less than their own. My heart raced; my pussy moistened; my body began to quiver from head to toe. My eyes were locked on them, scanning ever part of their bodies, finding a reason to grow hotter everywhere I looked.
In time their embrace softened and ended. Kimmy helped Brian divest himself of his T-shirt, then started taking off her jeans in a torrid striptease. Brian dropped to one knee to focus right on the little show as she loosened the snap on her jeans and drew down the zipper with expert slowness and style. I should learn something from this, I thought, studying the technique, growing aroused by it in spite of myself. Kimmy finished and dropped the jeans, where Brian helped her step out of them before standing back up.
If I thought Brian's bulge was powerful before, that was nothing compared to now. I could actually see a throbbing movement between his legs through the heavy canvas-like denim as his s****r reached down. She drew down the zipper as I stared straight at it, so rapt that wouldn't have cared at that moment if the whole world had been there to see. The jeans were holding his cock downward and she carefully made sure she removed them just so it would release it suddenly. A few moments...and his cock was free.
And such a release it was! If someone had placed a penny on the hard end of his cock just before it came loose it would have been pitched across the room, so hard and eagerly it sprang into position. I couldn't believe the sight of it, even more than I couldn't believe whose it was. That surreal displacement set in for a few moments again, then faded.
Brian dropped to his knee again and drew Kimmy's hips toward his face. I saw him extend his tongue to find her expectant clit and begin to stroke it with practiced accuracy. Kim's guttural moans started almost instantly as his tongue coursed its way over her tiny member, and I lurched inside, suddenly yearningly aware of how long it had been since I had felt the joy of such a thing myself. His hands were roaming freely over her body, from her breasts, her ass, even tenderly dr****g his fingers over her forehead and down the sides of her face, a too-often-forgotten erogenous zone. Kimmy bucked and squealed with delight, gently at first, then increasingly violently as the fire overcame her, hips thrusting, body swaying with heated pleasure. I saw her lurch, gasp, and then her legs start to collapse in the throes of a powerful climax.
My own hands were yearning to indulge the desire for the poor substitute they could offer, but somehow that seemed so inadequate that I refrained, choosing instead to devote every ounce of my attention to my son and daughter. With the fading of her climax Kimmy cooled down while Brian helped her regain her stance. As he did I could not help but admire the easy strength of his movements, suddenly knowing what few mothers will ever know: the ability to admire a strong, athletically-developed, powerful young man in both a motherly and a sexual way at the same time. I wanted desperately to be able to phrase that as being as a son and as a lover, but so far, nothing had happened to suggest things were moving that way and I was afraid to make any assumptions lest there be any chance they might be dashed.
With amazing ease Brian picked up his s****r like a bridegroom lifting his bride over the threshold, and they turned to return to his room, acknowledging me for the first time in a long while, gesturing to me to follow them. In his room, he dropped her playfully on the bed and they indulged in a little bit of friendly play, being a k** b*****r and s****r again for a moment, before returning once again to a fevered embrace. The easy transitions took me by surprise and again threw my thoughts momentarily out of whack, but only for the moment, leaving in their wake an even stronger captivation.
Brian's tumescence had not diminished for a moment and the two of them did not bother with the porn-film-standard blowjob. Kimmy was more than ready; obviously, he was, and I watched, wide-eyed, primed for a sight too unthinkable, too unbelievable and yet too inevitable to avoid. Brian lay on his back while his s****r straddled his hips. Both of them turned to me for a moment to check my expression. They were satisfied with what they saw, apparently, because I then watched Kimmy grasp his throbbing penis, lift it to herself, lower her body slightly, and then...
It was happening. I was watching my beloved son and daughter fucking.
In awe I watched the slow pace of mating accelerate, Brian's powerful thrusts driving his cock into Kimmy's pussy, lifting her with their very f***e, while she rode him like a bronc in a rodeo, out of control, her cries and gasps mixing with his deeper moans and breath, a chorus of passion that held me spellbound. Once again I automatically chose to refrain from the urge to masturbate, not wanting to divert any part of my attention from the scene before me. Strangely, and happily, that shift of hazy disbelief that had accompanied earlier milestones in their foreplay didn't occur at this, their ultimate conclusion.
Brian was fucking her doggy-style now, reaching deeper into her the way it is possible in that position, and her reactions demonstrated his success. Sweat poured from his body, matching her own glistening skin. At first they had been glancing at me from time to time, monitoring my reactions, but by now their attention was devoted solely to each other.
Brian was in her missionary now, gazing into her eyes and hers into his, their young, lithe bodies writing in ecstatic passion. I heard her cry out as she convulsed in what must have been the third climax in a row, then heard him announce his own climax.
"Yes...yes...Brian! Give it...cum in me...now, Brian!" I heard her cry out as his eyes shut hard and his body spilled forth into her. On and on, the sustained spasm continued, subsiding only very slowly. The tension in their young bodies gradually relaxed as they finally separated.
Calm had returned, the peaceful calm that real lovers alone can know. Brian and Kimmy kissed, relaxed, and then turned to me a bit suddenly, as if they had forgotten for a while that I was there. They smiled now, a bit sheepishly, but at the same time as proudly as any k**s who ever wanted to show their parents what they had accomplished. I could only return a smile though my glazed eyes, still absorbed by the scene, taking longer to return to reality than they did. I could also hope that they were aware of my own feelings, and I chose to keep them to myself, content with the role of observer.
Life in our household took quite a turn after that. Although Brian and Kimmy usually carried on behind closed doors, there was no longer the need to hide their sex, and if it happened that they decided to make love somewhere where I'd walk in on them, they'd carry on and I'd usually stop to take my ringside seat and become lost in their excitement again. I loved it, but I was also becoming more and more discontented, and a little frustrated, with quietly watching and then relieving the tension privately in my room.
One day as I was watching, at their invitation, they had progressed to the point where Brian alone was still dressed, still wearing his jeans. Kimmy was looking at them with a weird, confused expression.
"Why did you stop?" I asked after a very long and unexplained pause. They just looked at me kind of funny, then Brian spoke.
"We're not sure what to do next, Mom. We need some motherly advice. Do you have any suggestions?"
This made no sense to me, but I had no idea what else to do.
"Well, if I'm not mistaken, you need to take Brian's pants off right about now. Makes the rest a lot easier," I said to Kimmy.
"Oh, yeah. Duhhh..." she cried out, almost convincingly, as they resumed their play.
Over time this mysterious and confusing game repeated, with little variations, sometimes more than once in a single session, until it finally dawned on me what it meant.
They were doing this to involve me, to move me from what had until then been a purely silent, passive role, using a bit of silly humor to connect me more directly to their own actions while still keeping me at a little distance. I began to feel I was being set up for something, something possibly wonderful, something I might be able to imagine now but which I chose not to, intent on keeping the future a surprise--and avoiding disappointment.
Kimmy was wearing an elegant peignoir that night, radiating a striking sophistication into our rustic home. Brian matched with a silken, monogrammed robe. I could only gaze on with pride at these two fine specimens of youth, pride that I had given them the life and love that had brought them to where they were. Kimmy gently took my hand to lead me to accompany them to his room, as had happened more than once before. This time, though, they seemed a bit more purposeful, as if they had some new agenda never seen before. I dared not speculate about what it might be; I just docilely followed along, quietly eager to see what was to follow.
Brian and Kimmy sat me at the edge of the bed, then turned to each other in that mutually engrossed fashion I had seen and loved before. Again they embraced, touched, but then stopped and turned to me.
"We want to see you just the way you were the first time," Brian said.
"Yes, son, I want that too," I said, my voice in a deep, already-aroused whisper, thrilling at the implications I wanted to believe.
Silently, my sons fingers sought the buttons of my blouse, the way his s****r's had that day we were trying on clothes, but with such dramatically different purpose, and effect. Slowly, sweetly agonizingly slowly, he progressed from one to the other, until the last was unfastened and Kimmy gently slid the blouse off my shoulders and cast it aside. Brian stopped then to admire my breasts again through the sheer bra, the first time he had done that overtly since that day long before when I had let him see me in that same bra reflected in my bedroom mirror. He placed his hands around my waist, then moved slowly, trailing his fingertips expertly against my skin, rising up my sides to my face, embracing and caressing it with his touch. I sank deeper and deeper into the trance as his hypnotic touch strayed from my forehead, to my cheeks, my neck, and then moved cautiously toward my breasts, now and then threatening to choose a different direction, but then turning back, keeping me off guard, my attention welded to his every move.
I felt the first moment of contact between his fingers and the fabric of my bra, and it suddenly struck me at that moment how, through all of this amazing intimacy that had entered our lives, his hands had never touched my body in any way different from the way any other son might embrace his mom. Now this mere contact was so new, so unexpected, so unique and unprecedented that I could only lose myself in it, drink in every delicious tingle, as if sucking dry the well of sensation it offered. For the first time since Fate had made me a widow, I felt like I was about to become a woman again.
His fingertips were coursing down, slowly, toward the points of my breasts and I tensed with concentration, intent on making the absolute most of what was about to happen--and then it did! I felt the touch of fingers on my nipple--first just a touch, then tracing its outline. I felt fingers--Kimmy's--on the clasp of my bra and once again it was off, my quivering bosom open to the two of them, but now touched by more than just my son's eyes. The tracing of my nipple became the tracing of both as his other hand joined the first, and then he was cupping, caressing my breasts fully, openly. My heart raced and pounded within me with jackhammer f***e as I arched my back, desperate to make his touch and the sensation even stronger.
Kimmy's fingers were on my jeans now, but I stopped her. It was time to leave the sexual nursery now, to shift from the passive to the active. Remembering that exquisite striptease Kimmy had done peeling off her jeans that first day, I launched into my own version, forcing myself to resist the urge to get out of my clothes quickly, eager to use the same technique to arouse my son as she had then. They both reacted delightedly to my decision, and Brian then glued his eyes to the show. I dropped the zipper in that same restrained way, letting my body be revealed in little stages, making him wait for each little revelation before satisfying the expectation and moving on to the next. I felt the hasp reach bottom and then, with just a little help from Kimmy, I peeled off the jeans, making sure to reveal the shadowy patch of my bush through panties a little at a time.
They were gone now, and I was back to wearing just what I had been that day: those almost-sheer panties. I vaguely remembered that Kimmy had done something earlier in the day to ensure I'd be wearing them at this time. Now I knew why. I took my place on the bed again, now on my knees, spread wide, hips moving in little, involuntary thrusts. I felt my son reach behind me and draw my pussy toward his face. I saw him moving in, his tongue extending. The unbearable anticipation suddenly overcame me, compelling me to speak.
"Oh, please, please!" I cried, yet in a whisper. "I need this, I need it so bad, Son! It's been so long! Don't deny me!"
The wait was but seconds, but seemed to stretch on and on, almost as if the long spell of empty passivity might return forever--then I felt the first touch of tongue on my clit, through the wispy film of the panties. I lurched violently as the accumulated tension born of years of denial was suddenly released. I must have cried out very loudly because I was dimly aware of a fleeting look of surprise on Kimmy's face at the time. Then my attention returned to focus fully on the sensation between my legs, Brian's tongue expertly dancing over my long-neglected clit now so thrilled to rediscover its purpose.
It took very little time to reach my first climax, and Brian was not going to give up until I had reached my own pinnacle as many times as I was able--and that was quite a few. It may have been the third--I don't know--when I felt him slide off my panties, revealing me to his eyes fully nude for the first time. That simple feeling, of there being no longer even a wisp of clothing left to separate us, was itself a huge spike of excitement on top of everything else, and when he then slid a finger inside to stroke my G-spot at the same time his tongue resumed its dance on my clit, now with nothing to attenuate the sensations, I became convinced that there was no pleasure greater than this that any woman could ever experience on this orb.
After too many climaxes to keep count in my dazed state, I fell back on the bed, gasping for air.
"No more, Son, no more! I can only stand so much pure ecstasy in a single hour!" I saw him beaming with pride and pleasure.
"We're not done with you yet, Mom," I heard Kimmy whisper.
Brian was lying beside me, his hands now back to gently stroking and caressing me all over. I felt myself smile and take his face in my hands, drawing it to mine. My eyes closed and we kissed--the kiss of lovers, sweet and warm. He then rose, moved between my opened legs. Again, he needed no help reaching full tumescence. Despite all the preparation, what impended was so radical, so extreme that I once again felt that momentary, and now must unwelcome, displacement. Once again, though, it passed quickly, leaving behind an even stronger focus. My eyes latched onto that rigid cock as I prepared for the ultimate. The tip found, touched the rims of my cavity and he paused, proceeding slowly, granting me time to savor each tiny increment of his penetration. I fought the instinct to drive against him, refusing to lose that one, single opportunity.
He was in me now, in, partway, then more, then more--and then, in an eternity of moments, it was complete. He was fully thrust into me. There was yet another moment to savor, and then the dance began in earnest. His hips began their slowly accelerating thrusts, pressing, then pounding, as my hips rose easily and automatically to meet his. I heard Kimmy gleefully urging us on like a cheerleader, and we both surrendered all control to the f***es of nature. Raging passion drove us now, unbridled, unhindered passion sending us into paroxysms of explosive energy, ecstatic energy, limitless, it seemed. Barely aware of it we rolled and twisted into new and different positions, now with me on top, now with him, now in some other way the Kama Sutra probably never dreamed of, never stopping to think about it, just letting the runaway train have its track, following it, unquestioning, wherever it led.
The sweat glistened on my son's proud, athletic body as he drove me yet again to one climax after another. How many of these can one woman have in one day, I half-remember wondering. Onward he drove, relentlessly, until his time came.
"I'm cumming! Oh...ahh...Now, NOW!"
And then he spilled forth into me, the sensation in me becoming a melding of past and present, the old and the new, all contributing the best they had to offer into an experience I could scarcely believe. On and on, until spent, he collapsed on me, only waiting until his natural detumescence caused him to slip outside my body before he lay back on the bed, his clearly moved s****r taking her place on the other side from me.
"I hope you don't mind the little game we played with you, Mom," Kimmy said softly. "We decided that if we waited a while before bringing you into all this for the first time the anticipation would make it better for you."
"It did, dear, it most certainly did," I replied, still fighting for breath. "I was confused sometimes, but I was willing to see where you wanted to lead. I'm glad now that I was."
We said nothing further, there being nothing left to say, but merely lay in quiet, immersed in the sweet afterglow, for a long time.
In the years following we remained a f****y, with the ups, downs, pleasures and little bickerings that any f****y has, but with this sweet, decadent--and carefully hidden from the world--secret to our lives. It didn't happen all that often, really, but when those times came that we felt the urge we would easily and freely choose to make love. Sometimes it was the three of us, sometimes just Brian and me (I don't know if Kimmy would have considered it, but I was not up to trying mother-daughter Lesbianism).
Then came the time that Brian met the love of his life and I felt that empty-nest feeling for the first time, but with a bit of a twist most parents never do. Still, I did not regret it; the mother in me took precedence over the lover and I was only pleased and proud to see him slip the ring over that lucky woman's finger, regretting only that his father could not have lived to see it too. I could hardly tell the world, though, that I knew firsthand what sex with her now-husband was like. They now live in a rather more densely populated area. Well, there are few areas of civilization that are not more densely populated than this one.
Later, in what seemed like a strange kind of deja vu, Kimmy introduced me to the father of one of her own friends who had lost his wife to tragedy. We hit it off very well, and he took over the task of tending to my physical needs where Brian had left off.
It won't be long, I'm sure, that Kimmy will be finding somewhere and someone to share her life with, but I am glad I won't have that isolated home all to myself then. Meanwhile, I have no regrets. Not one.
Posted by shadoham 4 years ago Views: