Chapter 8

Gorgeous. Simply fantastic, beautiful tits. Her arching back stripped any sag that might be there and jutted her nipples into the air. Just as I was losing all restraint, about to plunge my mouth down onto one of those incredible globes, she yanked her nightie down.

“That’s all for tonight,” she gasped, her breathing rapid for some reason, matching my own. We sat facing each other, in collusion. She smiled, then laughed softly. “Maybe we’re getting too comfortable with each other,” she sighed, leaning her head forward.

I moved ahead myself, until we were cheek to cheek. I looked down at my hands on her thighs. My cock was very, very hard. I could tell that it had poked through the open fly in my pajamas and was bare to her sight.

“I don’t think so, Mom. I think we’re just right, perfectly comfortable.”

Reaching up I tilted her head forward tight against my cheek so that she was facing straight down at my cock, its head straining up toward her. Neither of us spoke and there was no other acknowledgement that my bare cock was pointing up to her face. I pushed my left hand even deeper between her thighs and let my thumb slide out across the front of her panties.

To distract her from this action I immediately prompted, “Could I look one more time before I go to bed, Mom?” as if I was asking for yet another bedtime story like I always did when I was little, and she always complied. I held her head against me as once more she lifted her nightgown up and over her breasts.

“Let me look for a while, Mom,” I pleaded, continuing to brush my thumb across her panties.

After a minute, I dropped my right hand down from her head, and slowly moved it toward her hanging breast. We both watched, heads together, as my hand moved closer until it cupped her right tit. Gently, I brought pressure to bear until I was squeezing her tit, massaging it. She didn’t pull away. I pulled down on it, squeezing as my palm and fingers slid off, pinching her nipple and tugging it down toward the bed.

“Thanks, Mom. This is more than Donna ever let me do,” I finally spoke the truth. “I want to study with you all the time.”

“I’d like that, son.”

“You’ll always do more for me, won’t you Mom?” It was a rhetorical question, the answer understood.

“Yes, baby. I’ll always do the most for you, more than any girl,” Mom answered anyway.

Just then we heard Dad coming down the hall. We hadn’t heard him climbing the stairs. He paused outside my door, which this time Mom hadn’t latched. We froze, like deer caught in headlights.

“I’m going to bed,” Dad called out.

“OK dear. I’ll be right there. We’re almost finished,” Mom answered, managing to speak in a normal voice.

I reached up to pull Mom’s head further forward. I kept pulling, increasing the pressure, slowly pulling her head down toward my quivering cock.

“More, Mom, more,” I pleaded, almost whining.

Dad’s footsteps retreated toward the bathroom.

I pulled my other hand away from her panties to place it against the back of her head too.

“Please, Mom. More,” I repeated. I heard the bathroom door close.

“More,” I gasped as I felt her dry lips squeeze over the head of my cock.

“More,” I said again as I my cock pushed into her mouth.

“More,” I gasped louder as I pulled her head down and thrust my hips forward, my cock tasting the wet feel of her tongue as it slid under my shaft.

“More … more … more…” I rasped as I hunched my hips erratically, again and again, fucking my cock into her mouth.

“Mommy…” I cried out loud a minute later, spurting my come into her mouth, holding her tighter with each spasm, each release of my spunk into her throat.

I fell back against the pillows, my hands loosely holding Mom’s head on my softening cock.

She didn’t look up. She kept her her face down on my cock, bathing it with her tongue until it lay limp in her mouth.

“Tomorrow, I need to start studying for my history exam,” I announced.

She nodded her head, springing new life into my young cock. She squeezed it in her mouth.

“Dad’s already gone to bed,” I stated for good measure, trying to keep her there as my cock swelled and hardened in her mouth.

She nodded again, the action sliding her mouth over my cock. I grasped her head more tightly, thrusting gently, fucking her sweet mouth for the second time in ten minutes, for the second time in my life.

Well friends, that’s it for now. I’ll tell you more about me and Mom in my next letter. In the meantime, I look forward to reading your stories.

Wow, I thought, I’d have to keep a look out for the rest of Frank’s story while searching for Dad’s. My own cock was bursting uncomfortably against my jeans. I was just about to loosen my pants when I was jolted out of my reverie.

“How’s it going?” Mom asked, her head poking just inside the study door. I hadn’t heard it open. I almost jumped out of my chair.

“Mom! You scared the hell out of me,” I complained.

“Oh, sorry. I was just about to go to bed and I need help to get Dad out of his chair.”

“Ok, Mom, I’ll be right there.”

I picked up a folder and tossed it over the letter I’d just finished reading, then fussed about like I was busy until Mom left. I needed a moment to let my excitement subside. When I left the office I was surprised to find Mom waiting by the stairs. She started up when she saw me and I fell in behind her. And that’s where my eyes stayed … on her behind.

I guess reading these letters made me think of my own Mom. As I examined my Mother’s behind, I remembered her treating me to glimpses of her body over the years. A flash of cleavage here, a look up her dress there, always when my father wasn’t around. In fact, she would almost always treat me when he wasn’t there. Unfortunately, that was rare. My Dad worked as an insurance consultant from home, and was almost never away. I don’t know if it was the letters or my Mother’s still shapely ass that caused the rush of blood to my pecker, but it was definitely stirring by the time we topped the stairs and walked the length of the hall to my parents’ room.

Father was waiting in his wheelchair. Mom had already changed him into his pajamas. He only needed to be transferred to the bed. Since he’d had his stroke, Dad just sat in his chair or propped up in bed, seemingly unaware of his surroundings. I immediately moved to pull Dad up, holding him by slipping my arms under his while Mom moved the chair out of the way, and then turning to sit him on the bed. I lay him on the pillows and swung his legs onto the bed. Mom pulled the covers over him and plumped the pillows to make him comfortable. Then she stood looking at him with me behind her. Dad gazed into space.

“Oh, Davy,” she cried softly, stepping back into me. I curled my arms around her shoulders, grasping my own arms to hold her snugly against me. We swayed slightly back and forth as Mom stared at Dad. I realized that my arms were crossed right across her breasts. I don’t believe, had I not read those letters, that I would have noticed this, or been self conscious about it. But now, I was extremely aware that my forearms bore the weight of her breasts, and could feel her nipples pressing just below the crook of my elbows.

Looking over her shoulders, I could see that Mom’s robe had loosened while we were getting Dad into bed and her lapels had parted sufficiently that my arms were directly against her nightgown. Only the barest fraction of an inch of material separated my bare arms from her warm breasts. I felt myself stir down below and squeezed her tighter, mashing her tits against me.

“Not so tight, sweetie,” she whispered, as if Dad shouldn’t hear.

“Sorry, Mom,” I replied, loosening my hold a little. “You don’t need to whisper, you know.”

Mom twisted her head up to speak to me, moving her breasts on my arms as she did so. “I know, but he’s less agitated when its quiet, and he can see and hear, you know.”