Who would have considered

“I think we should, yes…there’s something I need to say to you,” she said, patting the bed next to her, inviting me to sit down. Her face was still flushed, though again so was mine as I took a seat, trembling a bit nervously, anxiously. “I need to apologize to you,” she said simply, sounding obviously concerned, worried…no doubt guilty.

“For what? There’s nothing for you to apologize for! If anything, I should be the one to apologize to you, for making you do something you shouldn’t have!”

She looked at me like I’d just turned blue or something. “Making me…do?” She seemed to ask, still looking perplexed. “Thomas…I wanted to, was it me, remember? You didn’t ask me…I was the one who just got in…I was the one who…who grabbed you, you didn’t say, ask…”

She was right of course, that’s what really had happened, though in my mind, I had somehow replayed it, using my own fears, twisting things around. Once I realized that, I sat staring at her.

“You…you wanted to do that?” I said suddenly dumbfounded.

Once again she was looking at me like I had lost my mind, and maybe I had. “For a long time now…yes. I figured you knew that, and that was the real reason why you felt like you needed to leave, needed to get out of the house, no matter what. Which is the real reason you actually married Mike. That IS the reason isn’t it? What have you been so afraid to tell me, honestly, until now?”

This was really fucked up. Now I really was confused. And must have looked like it.

“Since….since when?” I stammered. “I mean…I left, but, shit…fuck, sorry…I mean…I married her yes, to, to…keep from, Jesus!” I said in exasperation. Mom once again was wide-eyed looking at me, trying to let me finish, but now as flustered and confused as I was. “Damn it mom! I left because I wanted to be with you! My own mother! Not Mike!”

There, I’d said it. And whatever else happened now, it was out in the open. I couldn’t take it back, couldn’t change it, but in a weird way, it actually felt good finally getting it all out in the open.

“What?”

Once again silence passed between us as we sat there on the bed looking at one another.

“You’ve…wanted…me?”

“For as far back now as I can ever remember mom, yes. I figured that if you ever found that out, you’d disown me. And after what had happened with Jack, well…let’s just say, I have no desire to feel what that fucking towel feels like.”

She burst out laughing, and then I did. And then she collapsed back onto the bed, still laughing, and then I rolled over, not quite on top of her, but looking at her.

“We still have to talk about a whole lot of things…but not right now,” she said, and then put her hands on my face, and pulled me towards her, once again kissing me, this time passionately, not like a mom, not like a mother…but like a woman. And as I did that, as we kissed, I felt movement, opened my eyes just a little, and watched as she simply undid her robe, parting it.

She was naked again.

**

“Make love to me Thomas…please,” she asked. “Make love…to your mother! God help me…help us, but…please Thomas, please. Fuck me!”

I was as naked as she was two seconds later. Not even realizing when I reached down to yank off my underwear that I was as hard as a rock again. But I most certainly was. Now looking down, looking at the very place I had once come from, and was about to go back too…I felt hypnotized, certainly mesmerized, and didn’t just want to go shoving my hard dick inside her without refamiliarizing myself with her again either.

Perhaps expecting me to do just that, mom scooted up further onto the bed, opening her legs, allowing herself to so uninhibitedly invite me, vulnerably. Flushed…anxious, certainly aroused. Still sitting beside her for a moment, looking at her, I could see the glistening dew of her moisture actually seeping out, coating her lips, bathing them in an intoxicating, liquid invitation. Which I accepted of course, but not in quite the way she was at that moment expecting.

I finally rolled over between her legs, and then ran my tongue up her split.

“OH MY GOD!” Was all she said, and then cried out pleasurably, her hands suddenly running through my hair, keeping me pressed against her as I continued to tickle her, tease her, exploring her now with my tongue as I tasted her essence for the very first time.

As much as I hate to admit it, one of the few things I had enjoyed doing for Mike was going down on her. Mostly because I liked it, though she certainly did. And rarely, if ever, did she actually reciprocate the same for me. Usually nothing more than a brief interlude of what I knew she felt was necessary foreplay, before just climbing on top. Never once had I ever come in her mouth, something that was simply unthinkable for her to do. But I still enjoyed tonguing her nevertheless. One of the few real highlights of our marriage.

But now…here I was, doing that, and enjoying it even more, oh yes…”far fucking more!” I thought to myself as I lay there between mom’s legs, running my tongue up and down that sweet tasting furrow. Shaven, which was a bit of a surprise as even Mike hadn’t done that, preferring a ‘landing strip,’ as it was called, which I personally found silly. I’d always enjoyed either or…as opposed to that. And now, here I was, licking my own mother’s cunt, running my tongue up to her clit, lapping at it, and then gingerly, softly, sucking it.

Now I knew mom never was a prude. And that there was a down to earth openness about her. Always had been. Not like she didn’t cuss, because she did, and threw as many “F” bombs around as Stella and I called them, as anyone else did, especially when she was frustrated, or tired, or had had “one of those days.” So it’s not like I hadn’t heard her say fuck before. But…the way she was saying it now, and the meaning in the way she was saying it, was like erotic, blissful, beautiful music to my ears.

“Oh fuck, baby! Baby! Yes! Yes! Oh my god yes! Eat my cunt baby! Fuck me with your tongue, your fingers! Suck me…suck my clit, suck it…eat it…fuck it! Finger it! Make me cum!”

Man…she ran off a string of erotic, sensual sounding words in a way I’d never heard her use before. And for the briefest of moments, I actually was jealous again. Jealous of any man who had ever heard her say that, speak like that. But then I chased those thoughts away, somehow I knew…even without asking, she’d never called any one of those guys baby, and meant it the way she said it to me.

“Lick me baby…lick me…eat me honey, eat your mothers cunt!”

**

As worked up as she was, (though I’d like to think it was my now rapidly flicking tongue on her clit!) with the sexual tension in the air, the sudden realizations we’d just both experienced, and the now out in the open knowledge of everything…mom and I both had just given ourselves over to this unbridled pleasure. Needless to say…it didn’t take long. Moments later, mom’s hands were once again pulling on my scalp, literally humping herself up now against me, mashing her pussy against my face, grinding…humping, me holding on, now sucking her clit, hard, harder still as she implored me into doing so as she came.