Chapter 10

Mother became more and more sexual like that as the years went by. But she was always unpredictable. She never let me fuck her though. I never got inside her. Until Dad died, that is. Returning from the funeral, I tried to touch her. She still looked sexy to me in her black dress. I mean, I did feel weird trying to feel her up in her funeral dress, but I couldn’t help it. She was angry, batting my hands away, “We’ve just put your father in the ground, for God’s sake!”

When we got home she went upstairs to her room and I, properly admonished, made tea for us, wondering when it would be ‘proper’ for me to start molesting my mother again. Then she called me. “Come upstairs, Ronny. Hurry!”

I ran upstairs. Had she collapsed? Was she overcome with grief?

Bursting into her room I was greeted with a sight I’ll never forget. There she was leaning over, her hands planted firmly in the middle of the bed, her black funeral dress pulled up high onto her back, her legs parted and her ass bare. “Where have you been? It’s yours now. Come fuck it!”

In a second my pants were down and I was in her. In less than a minute I’d pushed her onto the bed and shoved her head down at the pillow. My first fuck was over a minute later and I collapsed on my mother’s back, gasping for breath.

As I lay on her, Mom said, “He would never do me like that. He always had to be in front, on top of me, no other way, always finishing too soon.”

In case that was a complaint about my early finish, I set about fucking her again. I fucked her for hours that night, until we fell asleep. I woke up, took a piss, and went back to bed. She was still sleeping, on her tummy, her legs parted. Not to be deterred, I pushed my hard cock into her and started fucking her slowly and gently. When she woke up a few minutes later, I really started into her.

And that’s the way it went. That first year after Dad died, maybe two, I fucked her several times a day. On Sundays we stopped at the picnic site and just talked, read books together, or sometimes just napped in the warm sun. It was almost like a shrine to us now.

But the rest of the time, we were always touching. Turning her ass toward me almost guaranteed a good rump fuck. And it wasn’t just me. She’d flash her eyes, wiggle her ass, and the chase was on.

The farm suffered. We had to hire help. That’s what got me started as the insurance rep for our area. We had to be more careful with help around, but we still managed. It wasn’t long before we discovered Mom’s other favorite position. One morning, before I woke up, Mom discovered my piss hard on, straddled me, and started having herself a nice fuck. I woke to find her leaning over me, her hips slowly grinding up and down, her pussy milking my cock. That was the typical way I woke up from then on.

But she still liked it best from behind, and so did I. It was her favorite for the many, many years I fucked her, until I married, a man of more than forty years, and brought my wife home to live on the farm. But more about that, in my next letter.

I was too excited about the next day to search for my father’s next letter, even though it hinted at Dad fucking my grandmother while my mother was around. But my thoughts were now on a real live woman, my Mom. Tomorrow, I was going to touch her. Tomorrow, I was going to get sexual with my Mom, right in front of my Dad.

The following morning I watched Mom prepare Dad’s breakfast while I ate mine. I had risen earlier than usual and gone straight downstairs still in my pajamas, hoping to catch Mom in her nightdress, but no such luck. She was already dressed in a demure housedress that covered her to her knees. Still, I enjoyed watching her move about the kitchen while I ate, imagining what her body looked like under her dress. She did have a charming figure, that much was evident. When I finished, she pointed at the breakfast she’d prepared and asked me to take it up and feed Dad.

“But Mom,” I complained, “We talked about this yesterday. The doctor thinks we should do things in front of Dad together. You should feed Dad when I’m in sight behind you.”

Mom blushed a little, then agreed that we should feed Dad together. Once again, I enjoyed Mom’s behind as I followed her up the stairs. Dad was still in bed. When she asked me to lift him out so she could feed him in his chair, I suggested it would be easier if she sat or kneeled beside him on the bed since it would leave room for me to stay in sight behind her. So mom kicked off her shoes and crawled up onto the bed, standing on her knees in front and to the side of Dad. After handing her his breakfast I crawled up behind her as she began to spoon the mixture of raspberry yogurt and fruit into his mouth. I placed my knees on either side of her calves and closed in behind her but not near enough to touch.

I didn’t do anything for the first few minutes. Then, tentatively, I put my hands on the top of her shoulders and began a gentle massage. After a while, Mom leaned back a little. I moved to give her room and she followed, settling on my upper legs. I moved my hands down to massage her back while she continued to feed Dad, a slow process. At one point, I moved my hands to her side, sliding up toward her armpits along the side of her breasts. Mom flinched.

“Oh, gosh, look what I’ve done!” Awkwardly, she climbed off me, turning to crawl off the bed. “Darn, it’s going to stain.” She handed me the yogurt with the spoon in it. As she twisted to get her feet on the floor I could see a dollop of red yogurt spilled on her chest. Quickly, she ran into the bathroom, reaching around to unzip her dress. Much as I wanted to, I didn’t follow her into the bathroom, although the thought popped instantly into my mind after seeing her unzip her dress. I remained kneeling on the bed, imagining the dress being pushed down off her body.

I heard water running, filling up the bathtub. “Damn, … damn,” I heard her cussing as the tub filled with water. After just a minute or so, the water stopped and I could hear her swishing something around in it. A moment later she emerged from the bathroom, dressed only in the slip she must have been wearing under the dress. There was a faint reddish smudge on it as well, where it lay on top of her right breast. Since she was looking down at it as she walked toward me, I was free to look over her body covered by the thin cotton slip. I could see her dark nipples pressing against the material and I could also discern the outline of her panties, which were not the large Mother kind I was pleased to see.