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The Summer of '47

By: OldAndNew



This is my true story of how it happened over 60 years ago, and I still remember it like it was last week. It was my first and only gay experience. It was the summer of 1947 and even though I was 19, I was a late bloomer and still a virgin. 

Billy was my best buddy and we were like the brothers we never had for almost half of our lives. The same schools since we were 11 or 12, Boy Scouts, summer jobs and now out of school, working for the same company. 

Billy was always the more daring one with people, so, of course he was the first one to get a girl in bed with him. Well, actually they weren't really in a bed. She just dropped her drawers and took his cherry one dark night, laying on the floor of her front porch. 

I was always the inhibited one. I was more than ready to try sex with the first girls who ask me to do her, but of course none of them never had. The few times I was with a girl, who I realize now would have dropped her drawers, I would freeze up. 

I would listen with great interest as Billy would tell us guys about his newest sexual adventure with some new girl he found somewhere. Billy had discovered that some loose girls would often go to one of Houston's sleazier downtown movie houses near the old penny arcade. He begin going to the Iris Theater or maybe the Texan or Uptown Theater looking for a girl to pick up. Usually, a girl sitting alone in a cheap downtown movie theater was also looking for sex. Billy loved to tell the rest of us about his latest sexual conquests and of course we would listen with great interest. There were a lot of hard dicks in the group as Billy described his sexual adventures in detail.

One afternoon while Billy was sitting in the back of the Iris Theater, waiting for a likely looking girl to appear, a man slipped into the seat next to him. After a few minutes, the guy sprawled out in his seat and his knee resting against Billy's knee. That had never happened before and Billy figured the guy was kind of rude. Billy was still trying to decide if he should move his leg when the guy's knee started moving against his. Then he felt the guy's hand softly settle on his thigh. 

Billy was too surprised to react and while he was trying to figure out what to do the guy's fingers started lightly stroking Billy's inner thigh. Billy's dick reacted quicker than Billy did and it started getting hard. 

Then Billy remembered guys back in school talking about queers and how they loved to get other guy's dicks off. Billy had always thought queers wore makeup and carried purses, but this guy looked like any other guy on the street. 

Billy's lack of protest was taken as consent and the hand moved up and started rubbing Billy's hard dick. As Billy's dick throbbed and grew harder he was too fascinated to move. He was still a little uneasy, but he was mesmerized with the sensations he was feeling. The man fondled Billy's dick through the pants material for a minute or two to make sure there weren't any misunderstandings. Then reassured, he unzipped Billy's fly and worked the hard dick out into the open air.

There wasn't anyone else sitting near them and the darkness of the theater hid them from casual view as the man fondled and pumped Billy's dick until it shot off in the man's hand. The man wiped his hand on his handkerchief, then got up and left without a word.

That evening a new world opened up for Billy. There really were men out there who wanted to make him cum. At the same time, Billy learned that letting someone else get you off felt twice as satisfying as doing it to yourself and you didn't even have to move. 

After that Billy met more men in the theater. The next guy, or the one after, took Billy home with him with the promise of some special fun. That evening Billy discovered that having his dick sucked by a hot mouth was the most pleasurable sexual experience of his limited sex life. 

A lot of guys wouldn't consider letting a man suck their dick wouldn't hesitate to beg a woman to do it for them. Billy reasoned that if you stuck your dick through a knothole in a wall and someone on the other side sucked you off, you couldn't tell if it was a man or woman sucking it, so why would you need the knothole. He reasoned that a man who sucks a dick is queer, but the guy who just gets his dick sucked isn't taking an active part so he isn't queer. 

That kind of reasoning makes it a lot easy for a lot of guys to evade guilt feelings being sucked off in what most people would call a homosexual act. He didn't take an active part in the act. In fact he would probably fight anyone who even suggested that he had done anything homosexual. 

"Hey man, I met this guy named Bruce, the other day." Billy started that evening when I stopped by for a visit, "Man, he is really good. When he sucks on your dick I'll guarantee you are gonna cum. You never felt anything so good, it's even a lot better than screwing a woman. I went over to his apartment the other night. He just sits down with you standing in front of him. He fondles your dick a minute then opens your zipper and pulls it out and plays with it until it gets so hard you can't stand it. Then he sucks it in his mouth and starts sucking and licking the head with his tongue and you couldn't keep from cumin if you tried." 

It was very exciting to a "have not" as we sat around talking. My dick was rock hard from just listening to the story of Billy's dick being fondled and a hot mouth worrying it until it almost burst before it cum. 

Billy made having your dick sucked the most exciting pleasure any guy could ever experience. Listening to Billy, you were convinced that Bruce was just a nice guy who enjoyed giving other guys pleasure. You wouldn't even really think of him as being a queer. 

The longer we sat around and Billy talked about how awesome it was to have your dick sucked, the more fascinating the idea become. Having a hard dick straining against my jeans made having someone do it to me too became an overpowering compulsion. 

"It's a shame your friend Bruce isn't here now." I said, "I've got a hard on and he could have all he wanted of it." I bragged. 

"Well", Billy said, "I was already planning on going over to see Bruce for a little while tonight, do you want to go with me?"

My dick was still hard enough to rule my mind and I wanted more than anything to lose my virginity. "Damn right," I answered, "let's go." 

My dick was shrinking by the time we were in Billy's car. Its influence on my thinking was shrinking also and a tiny fear of the unknown began slowly raising its ugly head. Wait a minute; I thought to myself riding along in Billy's car, I am really going to visit with a guy who is a real live queer tonight. It was too late now, I had already opened my big mouth and couldn't figure a way to back out now. 

We were talking it up during the short drive. For me, I guess it was like whistling when you're walking past a grave yard at night. I guess I wasn't as eager now as I had been at Billy's house. 

Am I really going to have it happen to me tonight, I thought. Is a strange man actually going to suck my dick in his mouth, I wondered as Billy's car drove through the darkness.

"You know Billy, I was just thinking, this guy Bruce, doesn't even know me and he may not want you to bring a strange guy to his house."

"You don't have to worry about that; he didn't know me either the first time. Besides, he told me to bring some of my friends along anytime. You aren't gonna chicken out are you?"

Me chicken out? Billy had just applied the ultimate amount of peer pressure to ensure a buddy would continue. "No, of course I'm not. I'm ready, it was just a thought."

We walked up the stairs to Bruce's apartment on the second floor of the old Cozy Cabins and Billy knocked on the door. The young man who opened the apartment door looked to be in his twenties, very personable and would have fit into almost any group. "Hi Billy, y'all come on in." Bruce said, opening the door back.

"Hi Bruce, this is my buddy, Johnny," Billy said as we found seats in the small living room, "He's an old buddy of mine and was visiting today, so I brought him along. I wanted y'all to get acquainted. I thought maybe you would enjoy having a little extra company tonight." 

We sat around and made small talk for a few minutes, until suddenly Bruce stood up and said, "I'll be back in just a minute, I think I heard a car out front." 

Billy stood up a couple of minutes later and said. "I'll be back," and started toward the door where Bruce had vanished."

"Where are you going, Bruce said he was just going to check on a car and he would be right back?"

"Yeah, I know, but he just motioned for me. He wants to show me something." 

Aw shit, is Bruce gonna do it to Billy now? I wondered. Naw, probably not. It was quite as I sat there and watched the gloomy archway where Billy had recently disappeared. Could this guy really be sucking on Billy's dick right now, I wondered? 

That was a invitation for all kind of weird thoughts to begin whirling around in my head and grow into a big pile of little fears. I suddenly realized how little Billy actually told me. I mean the actual physical processes; you know a step by step description of what this guy actually does to you and what you should do while he is doing it to you. 

Actually, just thinking about some stranger sucking your dick into his mouth your first time, is frightening. You would be sticking a sensitive, important part of your body into a hole lined with the sharp teeth. What if you made the guy mad or what if he was just evil? What does he really do to you? Most guys call it a blow job, would he literally blow air into it like a balloon? Do you have to lay in a bed with him? Would he try to hug and kisses you? Will he want to take your clothes off before he does it to you? Do they take your whole dick in their mouth? If you cum in a queer's mouth would it make you want to become a queer too? If the guy gets to excited and sucks real hard on your dick while you're coming can they really suck your balls dry?" 

Would I actually be able to let some man I never saw before do things to my dick in the first place? Even worse, what if my dick wouldn't get hard and he'd tell Billy or what if it wouldn't get off? The mental tension doubled and redoubled with each question that passed through my head until Billy finally appeared in the doorway again.

"Hey Johnny, Bruce wants to talk to you for a minute. Just go through the archway and into the other room." Billy said as he came back into the living room. Was Billy tricking me? I couldn't see any difference at all in his appearance. His clothes weren't mused up or anything. Maybe Billy really did just talk to Bruce about something, I told myself. So maybe I don't have anything to worry about tonight after all. 

"I don't know Billy," I replied in a loud whisper. By then the fears were beginning to outweigh any of the erotic desires I'd had earlier and besides I think my dick had crawled back up in my belly. 

"Aw man, go on in, don't be chicken, if you don't want him to do anything now, just tell him. He knows how hard it is for guys to try something for the first time. Go on, he won't bite you. Besides, it's so dark in there, you won't be embarrassed." 

I hope not, I thought as I finally got up and slowly walked through the gloomy archway into the dining room. "OK, I'll talk to him." 

The dining room was very gloomy after I walked through the arch. The only light was what leaked through the opening from the small table lamp in the living room, The opening to the room on my right was just a black hole. I assumed it must be a doorway to the bed room as I slowly walked toward it. I stopped at the doorway, trying to see into the dark room. 

"Hi Johnny, I'm over here," Bruce's soft voice came reassuringly out of the darkness in front of me," come on over here. You won't run into anything" 

I shuffled through the darkness, trying to subdue my fear of the unknown and wondering what I was going to say to Bruce. Then something touched my stomach and I froze. I could barely make out a shape sitting on something in front of me. 

Then a hand grasp my belt and pulled me a step closer. "Come on up here a little closer, you don't have to be nervous." Bruce said softly trying to calm me. I think Billy must have told him that I was still a virgin and eager to remedy that but very anxious about the first time. 

I was standing between his legs right in front of him when his other hand found my crotch and started caressing my soft dick through the material. Then his knowing fingers opened my fly and slipped inside. 

I was frozen, speechless and unable to move. His hand had captured my soft dick and he had pulled it free before I realized the fly was open. Shit, a perfect stranger was holding me captive and had my dick in his hot hand. 

I definitely wasn't mentally ready for someone else to be holding my dick. Even worse, I wasn't ready physically either. What should have quickly become six and a half inches long and rock hard, was just semi-hard and only about 4 inches long. 

My mind was racing overtime, screaming that this guy was fooling with my dick and I stood there like a statue. Then Bruce's hot hand was fondling and jacking my limp dick. My dick was slowly beginning to stiffen up, but I was still too scared for it to get really hard. 

"How come it's not hard?" The soft voice asks from the darkness.

"I guess maybe it's just a little bit scared." I managed to stammer. What a clever answer,

"Well, we can't have that; we'll have to show him there's nothing to be scared of." The voice said soothingly. His hand continued to knead my dick, but he skinned it back a little harder with each stroke until the foreskin was stretched tight behind the rim and begin to sting slightly with each stroke. His other hand still had a tight grip on my belt so I couldn't back away even when my dick begin reacting to the added stimulation. After a few minutes pleasant new sensations aroused my dick as Bruce's expert handling overcame my apprehension. It finally reached a pretty firm five inches long. Bruce kept kneading my dick and jacking the loose skin rapidly back and forth with a motion that would have caused me to cum a long time ago if it hadn't been a stranger's hand.

Bruce seemed to be growing impatient at the slow response he was getting from the hand job. My dick still wasn't fully hard when Bruce's hand finally released it and he shifted positions. 

Aw shit, I thought. My self-confidence dropped about 99% when I realized that my first sexual encounter with another person was ending in a major disaster, he was gonna quit because it wouldn't get hard enough. Then I felt his hand fumbling between my legs. He had gathered a hand full of loose material at the crotch of my pants. He pulled me even a little closer to him while his other hand caught my dick again and pulled the loose skin all the way back. 

Suddenly, the tender exposed head of my dick was deep inside a burning hot, tight, slimy wet place that was constantly moving. Oh shit, I suddenly realized, it's in his mouth. He's got my dick inside his mouth. 

Now I was scared and tried to pull back, but the hand holding the crotch of my pants held firm and a squirming slimy burning hot wet tongue begin ruthlessly tormenting the head of my dick. After the first few seconds of shock, my dick responded to the new sensations despite my fears. My semi-hard dick quickly grew super hard and I realized that something really awesome was happening to me physically, if not mentally.

By now my eyes had grown used to the dark gloom of the room and I could see a little better. I could see we were in a bedroom and Bruce was sitting in front of me on a trunk or chest. I was surprised when I looked down and saw that Bruce was using his other hand jacking off his own dick while he was working mine over with his mouth. I never dreamed they did that. I guess I just thought his dick would just shoot off on its own when mine did. 

In some strange and bizarre way, seeing his head bobbing at my crotch, causing those powerful sensations in my dick and jacking himself off created strong lustful thoughts in my mind. These weird thoughts added to the already overwhelming physical sensations that were filling my lower body. Billy was right, this was the best thing I had ever felt in my life

Bruce's relentless sucking, head bobbing and his hot slick tongue stroking the head of my dick was too much to fight. My dick was harder than it had ever been in my life. Even my balls were begin to ache with desire. Now my whole body was beginning to catch fire and it made me feel panicky all over again because now I knew for certain that he was going to make me cum and I didn't know the rules. 

Was I was supposed to signal to Bruce in some way or pull it out of his mouth before it started to cum so it wouldn't get into his mouth or just let it flow. I fought with my mind as hard as I could not to let it cum while it was in that strange mouth, but my body betrayed me and my dick begin pulsing all by itself. By now I was standing on tiptoes, pulling back, but the hand at my crotch was pulling me even closer to that hot mouth. When I started to cum there was no longer any questions in my mind and I surrendered my dick completely to that hot greedy mouth. No questions ask. He could do just about anything he wanted to now, as long as long as he kept it in his mouth as he sucked my cherry out the end of my dick and I filled his mouth with my essence.

I looked down again as my orgasm eased. I could see in the dim gloom that Bruce still jacking off his own dick while he sucked the last few drops from my own spent dick. He continued to suck as it shrunk, even after it was completely drained. 

Now, his tongue began to be a torment as well as a pleasure when it rubbed the ridge around the head of my dick. Each time the tongue touched the ridge now, it caused a strange combination of pain and pleasure. I learned then that prolonged stimulation often causes super-sensitivity right after an orgasm. I began wanting to evade its touch, but not too much, because my body was still straining for those last fragments of pleasure. 

Bruce's dick must have cum then and my shrunken dick was finally allowed to slip out of his mouth. Then Bruce relaxed his hold on my pants material at the crotch.

"Would you send Billy back in when you go out?" He ask. 

I figured that was my dismissal and stuffed my dick back in my pants and turned to walk back to the living room alone. 

"You see, there wasn't nothing to it and you and me really didn't do anything queer, Bruce did it all while we just stood there and enjoyed it." Billy said with a grin as we walked down the stairs. 

"By the way, how come it took you so long to tell him we were leaving?" I ask.

"He was sucking me off again." Billy grinned.

"Did he really do it again?" I ask.

"Yeah, but it was too soon. He couldn't make it cum again and had to give up. Well, how do you like getting a blow job?" Billy ask.

I didn't have to think about it before giving the short answer, "Man, it was great and it sure beats jacking off." 

The long answer however, took a little longer. For one thing, mentally I couldn't enjoy my first shared sexual experience because the entire event was completely overshadowed with apprehension and fear of the unknown. In some ways the experience could have almost been called a "voluntary rape". I had voluntarily entered the room (though mostly forced to by peer pressure). But, after Bruce's hand seized my belt he was in complete control over everything that happened and he took what he wanted from me. 

How was it really for me, you may ask? First, the physical sensations were astonishing, better than anything I had ever felt. But, it was only a physical release and lacked any passion and emotions I experienced later with my wife. 


The Summer of '47



And second, the cold wet slimy dick soaking the front of my shorts and rubbing against my bare leg as I went down the stairs was a constant reminder that I had just participated in a "forbidden" sex act with a man. 

Third, there was some remorse for a while, remembering being sucked off and losing my cherry to an unknown man in an act forbidden by society in 1947. 

Now however, 65 years later, I still remember everything that happened that night in 1947 as if it happened yesterday. And now, often while lying awake in those dark, magic hours after midnight, in my mind I walk into that dark room and Bruce's mouth seizes my dick again and takes my cherry... without guilt.

Did I ever let another man do it to me again? No, I met my future wife very soon after that night and never had a sexual need again that went unfilled.

The big question now, you may ask, is would I ever let a man suck my dick again? 

You bet I would. Now that my wife has passed away and I am alone, I sure would. My old dick has pleasured me one way or another for over 70 years. But now, I've wore it out and it refuses to get hard enough to be inserted into any type of body orifice smaller than a hot mouth and now I know what I am missing.



The Summer of 69'



Unlike the old movie, it wasn't the Summer of 42', but it might as well have been.

I had just turned eighteen, looking forward to Graduation, which was just a few month's away. I wasn't looking forward to the draft however, Vietnam still very much apart of the American way of life at that time. It was a period of self-discovery, decisions, and a very uncertain and somewhat frightening future.

I had being going 'steady' as was the term then, and perhaps still is. My High School sweetheart and I had known each other off and on since Grade-School, on into Junior High, which is now called Middle School in most places. And then of course, finally on into High School. But it wasn't until High School that we finally got serious about our relationship.

But of all the time we knew each other, after all the dates, flirtations, and everything else that went along with it, Tracy had remained a 'chaste' albeit very flirtatious virgin. We'd spent more evenings together than you could even begin to possibly imagine, with my never getting off "first-base". Another one of those ageless terms. Some might think, "Why bother?" Especially since most, if not all of my buddies back then were obviously having sex with their girlfriends, so why wasn't I? God knows I tried. Even to the point sometimes of threatening to break up with her if she didn't relent. Then we would breakup, and then I'd relent, and we'd start the whole damn process all over again. 

There were several reasons we stayed together, even after short periodic weeks apart from one another. We honestly enjoyed being together, number one. Number two, Tracy and I both felt that after all these years, we were "meant" to be together, and God help us, that meant getting married one day too. Three...and this was mainly my reason more than hers of course, was that she had a fantastic body. True, I'd never actually seen it...but she had enormous breasts, and a shapely figure that the guys were always drooling over, and teasing me about constantly as I'd never actually seen it. 

Perhaps it had something to do with that final year. The "war", talk about future plans, including the possibility of marriage (someday) or what. But whatever the reason, Tracy suddenly began to loosen up. Not all at once, but gradually. But like all typically horny teenage boys, even finally getting to second base wasn't good enough, or nearly fast enough.

Tracy and I had spent many evenings together like I said. Sometimes at the Drive-Inn, or sometimes simply sitting in my car overlooking the city. "Watching the submarine races" as we called parking back then. We had some pretty hot sessions together too. A lot of kissing, hugging, but never much more than that, though Tracy did enjoy hinting at wonderful things to come if I simply remained patient with her, and so on and so on.

Each time I was about to throw in the towel however, she'd do something to surprise me. And not without a lot of back and forth arguing and manipulating in between. We'd been up at the local 'Lovers-Lane' watching the twinkling lights of the city. I had recently had another girl at school begin to pay particular attention to me, and more importantly, I did know a guy who she had dated for a while, who had bragged about how good she was in bed. So this sudden outside interest, and the possibility of finally going to bed with a girl was more than a little tempting. I'd basically decided to (once again) break things off with Tracy, and do a little exploratory research on my own. Sitting there in the car, it was obvious to both of us that something was in the air. Neither one of us spoke initially, and as I soon discovered, it was because we both had several things weighing heavily on our minds.

"David? Do you really love me?" She asked.

It was perhaps the worse possible question she could have asked me at that moment. True, I did love her, or at least I honestly believed I did then. And here I was, considering breaking up with her long enough to at least finally get some girl into bed for no better reason than to finally lose my virginity, after all I was eighteen I had argued with myself. 

"Yes Tracy. I do love you." And then suddenly realizing this was an opening for me to lead into what had always been a constant tug of war between us, I added.

"And that's one of the reasons I have wanted to be with you, now, not later, not (if) and when I go into the Navy, or somehow make it into College. A point that wasn't missed on her at all as my folks didn't have the means financially to support me in school, and so to do so would pretty much mean doing it myself. And at the moment, the odds of my being able to do that looked pretty slim. I worked a part-time job, but the meager wages I earned barely kept me in gas and insurance money on my car, let alone the few extra dollars I still had for dates.

Tracy looked as though she was actually considering what I had said. But her mind still seemed to be focused on something else entirely. We had reached some sort of crossroads in our relationship. She knew it, and I knew it, and neither one of us had to mention it. The next few moments have remained forever burned into my mind as one of my fondest Teenage memories. 

It just so happened that my car, a Chevy SS Super Sport had a bench seat. It made our make-out sessions far more enjoyable and easier to perform than most of my friends complained about in their own cars with bucket seats. Tracy was looking at me, she was wearing the pastel blue "V" necked velour pullover that I had given her for her birthday a little over a month ago. I had purchased it specifically for her, as I knew her full breasts would show more than ample cleavage in it, something she didn't mind showing on occasion, "Proud of her own tits" I'd often secretly think. And she was, as she loved teasing me in that way quite often by exposing just enough of that ample cleavage to send me home at nights with a really bad case of 'blue-balls.' So her wearing this gift wasn't too surprising, but when I saw her reach around behind her back, obviously lifting up the back of the sweater and begin to undo the unclasp of her bra, I was stunned. Unsupported now as her boobs were, they were large enough to fall slightly lower against her chest. Not something too unexpected for someone that has naturally large breasts anyway, but the sight of actually seeing them like this, was a heaven sent moment. Yet with all my coaxing, all my month's of frustration and pleading, hot burning licking kisses on her neck in hopes of arousing her, especially as I knew this was one of her most sensitive places, I was not prepared for any of this.

Embarrassment perhaps, her sudden vulnerability? I don't know for sure, but whatever it was that I saw, I finally spoke.

"Tracy, you don't have to..."

I never finished the sentence. Tracy reached over, taking my hand in hers and placed it firmly and wonderfully against her breast. True, it was on the outside of her sweater, but by this time, I was actually touching her magnificent tits, something I had only done up until now in many long nights of masturbatory fantasy's. And this wasn't any fantasy, this was real, and was really happening! Thank God for bench seats. I quickly turned towards her, comfortably positioning myself, and now began to caress her and toy with her earnestly. I felt the hard little nipple just beneath the now loose material of her bra quickly stiffen and grow between my circling, exploring fingers. And she moaned. Oh God, how I remember how she moaned, so softly, so sweet. Almost like a cat's purr as I touched her and caressed that magnificent full breast.

"So this was what it was like to finally reach second base," I thought silently, thrilled beyond my wildest expectations, and here I was only touching through the material of her sweater what I knew and could feel to be...that luscious, taut firm nipple. And I could have stayed on this particular bag forever too. After all this time, after all the lost opportunity's with other girls, here I was finally getting to play with Tracy Stillman's tits. I thought I had died and gone to heaven. And in the very next breath realized, "Hadn't she undone her bra?" That sudden realization told me that she had offered up her breasts, not just to touch and fondle on the outside of her sweater, but on the inside, underneath! And here I was, wasting time, or worse, giving her the opportunity to change her mind about what she and I were doing. 

Almost immediately I began to lift up the front of her sweater, though doing so slowly, still somewhat afraid that she would suddenly change her mind. Her bra still partially concealed her breasts, but shit, I was now looking at them, as I'd never seen them before either, even if it was inside a somewhat lacy and very sexy looking confinement.

The "go ahead" signal came when Tracy reached up with her own hand and pulled the bra off her breasts herself. Though things were a bit tangled and in someway hampering our movements, the sight of her mature fully exposed breasts was breathtaking to me. And in fact, as I recall, I had been holding my breath at the time, almost afraid to draw another in case I was dreaming, and that doing so, I'd wake up in bed, a very painful and needful erection reminding me that this was just another one of those frustrating 'wet-dreams' that I'd been having a lot of lately.

What I immediately noticed, were her dark brown areola, which encircled the thickest hardest nipple's I had ever seen. Sure, I'd seen a number of women's breasts in 'girly' magazines, and more than a few hard-core stroke books, but I'd never seen a woman with "hub-caps" as we called them, the size and color that Tracy's were. And now I had even more desire and need to touch her, explore them and hopefully, "dare I risk it?" Kiss and even suck them as well?

I decided, "Nothing ventured, nothing gained". And I immediately bent downwards and tentatively began licking one of her hard little protruding nipples. The feel of her hand on the back of my head, pressing me to her was not only erotic, but I actually found myself having an out of body experience as though I could see myself actually flicking her nipple with the tip of my tongue! It was an honest moment of unspoken permission, as well as total surrender on her part, and I sat there, sucking her, licking her, and shaking like a fucking leaf!

All too soon it ended however, Tracy reminding me we'd been gone well over two hours, and that as curfew was quickly approaching (for her anyway) that we'd have to hurry in order to get her back home in time. With one eye on the road, and the other watching her re-harnessing those wonderful twin globes of hers, I knew that when I masturbated that night, I'd have a lot more than just fantasy images of her to play with, I'd have the additional sensations of memory, and taste, and touch to go along with the actual visual. 

For a time, this was more than adequate to keep my active mind busy, and my lustful needs at bay. But as the proverbial forbidden fruit had finally been tasted, so then was the urge for more, far more as well. And it wasn't all me either. Tracy seemed to suddenly change overnight. For a period of two weeks at least, we repeated that first evening together, nearly every night, or at least every other night. But along with the excitement of what we were doing, came the desire for more. 

Tracy's father worked a nightshift at a manufacturing plant. He left for work, and then as we always had it planned, as he didn't much care for me in the first place, I'd eventually show up at her place. Her mother worked too, doing odd jobs and sometimes worked late as well especially during any Holiday seasons at a local shopping mall. It was a Friday evening, her dad had left for work, and her mother would be working late. We had the house to ourselves, another rarity, as her younger sister and older brother both had plans to be away for the evening. 

This night, I parked my car at the School, which was only a block away from her place. This way, if anyone did come home unexpectedly, I could sneak out, or we both could in fact without being discovered as even having been there. One major advantage to all this, was they had an enclosed carport, the door of which no longer worked and had sufficient things stacked against it to prevent anyone from even trying to open it. Hearing a car pull into the drive was immediate and without question that someone was home. Even the gate being opened was an additional precautionary measure to alert us if someone came into the yard and headed towards the front door. Which was, the only access into the house, except of course for the back door, which was the only entry-exit into the backyard, and the semi enclosed carport. There was an old, but still useful and comfortable couch that sat on the far end of the carport, still covered by the overhanging roof, but open-faced into the backyard. This too was concealed by a tall standing redwood fence that ran around the property, and which also held wild clinging vines that had overgrown it over the course of the years. Sitting there on that couch, we were safe from prying eyes, and reasonably safe from ever being caught. 

The moment we sat down, Tracy removed her blouse or sweater almost immediately. It was almost a given. Another sign that Tracy had changed in more ways that I could have ever possibly known. And it was on this particular night, that we advanced our sexual explorations in a near gigantic leap again, something of which caught me totally by surprise, but not at all un- welcomed. 

As I sat there on the couch, Tracy standing in front of me, I watched her pull the sweater over her head, and as was usually the case, unclasp her bra as well. I anticipated her to then sit down next to me, where I would begin anew the discovery of her breasts all over again. This time however, I sat there watching as she reached down, and slowly began unzipping the zipper on her jeans. Before I knew it, she had shucked these off and was now standing there wearing only the thinnest briefest pair of panties that I had ever seen, anywhere, anytime. The faint dark patch of her pubic hair was clearly evident beneath the fabric, and I felt my cock immediately begin to throb and harden beneath my own jeans. 

"Stand up David," she had spoken to me saying. And I felt her reach out, holding my hands and lifting me up off the couch. In the next instant, I felt her unbuckling my belt, and then likewise, unzip my own zipper. Once this was done, I quickly stepped out of my Levi's carefully ensuring their close proximity to me lest we have to make a hasty and quick get-a-way. We stood then, facing one another, she in those soft silky-like sheer panties, and me, in cotton briefs with a very noticeable and hardly concealed bulge clearly in evidence. I felt her hand sneak under the waistband of my shorts, and felt her hot fingers touch me for the first time. She toyed with my cock inside my pants, not stroking it really, but fondling and exploring it, a sensation, which quickly had me climbing the walls. I soon reached down, and though I did not attempt to slip my fingers down inside her panties, I did begin to trace the outline of her pussy slit with my finger. The softness of each was wonderfully and excitingly explored. I felt her wetness seeping through the material of her panties and realized perhaps for the first time that women leaked too, just as my own cock did when I played with it, producing that nice slippery bit of pre-cum that I used to further tease and delight myself with.

Tracy's soft moaning as I stood there stroking her like that soon had her up to a feverish pitch. 

"Oh David, that feels so good. You...feel so good to me too. Your cock is so hard, so warm, and so exciting!"

I don't remember our removing our underwear, but we did. All I do remember is suddenly sitting down on the couch, side by side, mutually masturbating one another. The way she played with my cock was so different than the way I did. But the fact that she was was far more stimulating to me than anything I could have done to pleasure myself at that very moment anyway. She was clumsy, and tentative, but she was also bold and uninhibited as she toyed with me, explored me, and pushed pulled or twisted the skin of my aching prick. I am sure I was equally showing my inexperience as well. I had no concept, or knowledge if she ever played with herself either. I think then, that it was a "given" that most boys did, but the concept of a girl, or woman doing that to her self was rarely if ever really discussed. Yet, somehow I knew that she must have, and she guided me, showing me where and how to do it, just the way it felt best, and I immediately had the impression that she was showing me, teaching me, the way she liked for it to feel, the way she liked doing it to herself when she masturbated alone in her bed at night. And I wondered then, how often had we done so together? How many nights had I lay in my own bed at home, jerking off thinking about her, and Tracy, likewise at home in her own bed, playing with her own pussy, and (hopefully) thinking about me too.

These thoughts had gotten me far more excited than I had ever anticipated being. Not to mention sitting here looking at her completely nude for the first time, my fingers and hands running up and down her wet slit, and touching and caressing her clitoris, though I am not sure I knew exactly where it was, only that I was doing something right. Being a virgin, she had told me NOT to try and put my finger inside her, so I didn't. But whatever I was doing to her slit, to her lips, to her clitoris was obviously bringing pleasure to her.

And unfortunately, it was bringing additional pleasure to me as well. So in combination of what her hand had been doing to my cock and the sensations I was enjoying in touching her, I found myself losing control, far more quickly that expected, and someone embarrassingly so as I felt the beginning of the cum warning in my balls start to sound off, but before I could stop her, before I could beg off and warn her, I felt the sperm in my balls gush forth in a premature ejaculatory release of surprised pleasure and ecstasy. 

"Ah shit!" I exclaimed. Both in alarm, as well as in uncontrollable climax as I jettisoned stream after stream of thick white cum. Tracy continued stroking me however, obviously expecting and anticipating it. She cupped the palm of one hand over the top of my spurting prick in an unsuccessful attempt to prevent too much of my spunk from falling someplace where it might be noticeable, or reveal to anyone who might see it, and realize what it had been that we'd been doing out here. Tracy's hands were covered in my gooey-sticky cream, and she then began to massage the cum lotion into her breasts. I watched her rub it in almost to the point where it was actually absorbed entirely by her skin, and actually felt a little tingle, and a little throb of reawakened interest begin in my now flaccid cock. 

But the sound of the front gate opening soon had us scurrying for our clothing. Too late even for Tracy to get inside and pretend that she had been there all along as well. Our only option was to hide out momentarily until the coast was clear, and then to slip away around the other side of the house, climb over the fence near her bedroom window, and then sneak off down the street and back to the school where my car sat waiting for us.

As we sat hiding behind a stack of large boxes, we watched as the lights in the kitchen came on. Moments later the silhouette of Tracy's mother passed by the curtained window. She was headed towards the back door!

We both ducked down behind the boxes, my heart was beating harder than I ever imagined that it could. At that moment I was more scared and afraid than I'd ever been before in my entire life. I was only slightly more comforted by the fact it was her mother and not her father that was about to come out the door. 




The Summer of 69'



The carport light came on flooding the area. But hidden as we were, still concealed behind the stack of boxes, she'd have to walk well past the end of the couch to see us, and even then would have to purposely peer down the small little isle next to the wall of the garage to see us even then.

She did come out as far as the couch that we could hear without seeing well enough. She stopped, even called out Tracy's name, though in such a way that she wasn't really expecting an answer. And thankfully, Tracy remained silent as well and didn't answer her. I would have died personally. There was a momentary pause, she walked around to the front of the couch, and then we heard her walk swiftly away back into the house. The light once again went off, yet we remained where we were for several minutes without daring to move, or even speak. When we both felt it was safe to take off, we did so, quietly and as quickly as we could.

It wasn't until we reached my car that I realized my wallet was missing! It wasn't necessary to spend time looking for it either. We both knew where I had dropped it. Somewhere by the couch no doubt, and could only hope that it was still there, and that her mother hadn't discovered it.

I drove Tracy back home as though we were just getting back from a date. There was no way that she could go looking for it immediately, but promised that she would do so as soon as she could. Afterwards, if she found it, she would call me at home with the news.

I drove home nervous from the near discovery, yet still very much excited by the events, which had taken place there on that couch. I waited by the phone, but when it became evident by the lateness of the hour I knew she wasn't going to call, and thus retired to bed to spend a very restless and near sleepless night.

Tracy called me early that Saturday morning. Told me to come over as soon as possible. She was obviously excited. Not anxiously so, but excited enough by the sound of her voice that I was worried. After she assured me that everything was ok, and that everyone was also gone, she could tell me in person "what had happened" but couldn't do so over the phone.

I drove the few short blocks as quickly as it was possible to do. Tracy immediately took me out back "to the scene of the crime" as I saw it then, and explained what had happened.

"When I came in the house, your wallet was sitting on the kitchen counter. Mom told me she'd found it on the ground in front of the couch. She knew we'd been out there, and that's why she called out my name. She also thought we were most likely hiding someplace watching her too, and decided to go back inside and wait to see if we came in. She asked me point blank if we'd "done it"! And once I admitted that we had been outside "kissing" and such, but that we hadn't done it, and that I was still very much a virgin. After hearing that, mom simmered down."

I remember how Tracy had told me that her mother had grilled her at first, kept asking her what it was that we had been doing, how far had we gone, and kept pressing her to admit that we'd "done it". When finally she was satisfied that we hadn't gone that far, once Tracy told her mother she'd be willing to undergo a medical exam if that's what it would take to convince her and leave her alone, her mother had finally calmed down considerably.

After that, they had in fact discussed quite openly and quite candidly her mother's worries, fears and concerns. Tracy had learned from this that she had gotten pregnant with her now older brother, and had ended up getting married to a man she honestly didn't love. Tracy was shocked to hear this, but it also placed the last puzzle piece together for her as well. Her mother and father had not slept in the same bedroom for several years. And though you didn't consider the aspect of your own parents having sex, she had know with some fair amount of certainty, that hers hadn't for years, and possibly ever since her younger sister had been borne in fact. Being Catholic's her parents lived a rigid belief and lifestyle, divorce was out of the question, as was any form of birth control. So her parents opted for a home life that was anything but normal. So in some ways, this also explained Tracy's upbringing, as well as her parents obvious concerns. 

Tracy stunned me however, when she told me that she had told her mother what we had done. Doing this in some weirdly bizarre way of convincing her mother that we hadn't gone any further, hadn't done anything more than this. She promised her mother that she would remain a virgin, no matter what, and that we would never again do anything in or around their property, or their house ever again. Mostly because of her mother's fear of what her father would do should he ever suspect anything, which he did anyway, and without anything ever being said or done around him to prove out those suspicions. Had he been the one to discover my wallet outside on the floor by the couch, he'd have gone ballistic. And in that we couldn't have agreed more.

After that, we never again took any risky chances at her place. But my place, right after school was something else altogether. 

We continued on at a rapidly escalating pace, advancing from mutual masturbation, and 'dry-humping', to oral sex. We were both very fast learners. And learning and enjoying how to eat pussy was one of my favorites. We'd hardly get back to my place after school, and we were soon in bed enjoying a very erotic '69' with each other most of the time. The fact that we'd be graduating that same year kind of made it funny, "Nothing could be finer than to be a sixty-niner" was our slogan. And Tracy and I in our own special way were trying to live up to that one.

Eventually however, the need for Tracy to begin working grew. And with summer rapidly approaching now, and graduation just a few short weeks away, she took a job at the same mall that her mother worked at, although not at the same store. This unfortunately dug into our time together which was to be expected, since I was working as well and our schedules didn't always coincide with our being together. Needless to say we took advantage of every opportunity we had when we could. Sometimes they were simple things, naughty fun as Tracy called them. Like giving me a hand-job when I took her to work, fondling her breasts in the parking lot of the mall, or fingering her at lunch sometimes as well. But of course our best times were still spent when we were alone together, which once again included doing things on that old familiar couch in her carport.

We knew that Tracy's mother had ongoing concerns about the two of us getting more and more involved. There was still the talk and possibility of marriage of course, what our plans were after we graduated. And as that time got closer and closer, Tracy and her mother talked more and more. It appeared that her mother was becoming resigned to our activities, and had finally accepted the inevitable. Though again, Tracy was still a virgin at this time, she told me she had been thinking about "going all the way", unsure now if it really meant all that much to save her virginity for the wedding night, especially as we'd already gone this far, and were pretty much committed to one another. So now we talked about it, and the excitement grew once again that perhaps soon, when and if the opportunity was perfect and the night was special, that perhaps...we finally would!

It was on a Saturday a week or so later when I had driven over to Tracy's to wait for her to get home from work, that everything I knew, or thought I knew changed forever.

I arrived, as was usually the case a few minutes before Tracy normally got home from work. Lisa, her mother, let me in to wait for her. Again, we had no problems, and she had actually begun to loosen up quite a bit regarding my relationship with her daughter. I knew that Lisa would be going to work herself in a couple of hours. Tracy and I had already made plans around that fact, and as her father wasn't due home for several hours, it gave us a nice comfortable window to spend some erotically fun time together.

A few moments later however, the phone rang. Lisa answered it, and I could tell by the conversation that she was talking to Tracy. Soon after she hung up the phone and turned towards me.

"Tracy says she's stuck at work because someone else called in sick. They're trying to find another replacement, and as soon as they do, she'll be on her way home. She told me to tell you to stick around and not go anywhere as she's sure it won't be all that long."

Lisa offered me a coke, which I accepted, and sat down on the couch in the living room to watch TV and wait for Tracy. It just so happened that her mother's bedroom was directly down the hall, and sitting on the couch, I could easily see into the doorway. What I quickly realized however, was that a mirror on the dresser, gave a panoramic view of the entire room inside as well. It was difficult not to spy on Lisa. She was an attractive woman after all, even if she was some twenty years or more older than I was. I sat with some difficulty, and a little guilt at being able to see her so easily undressing in her bedroom. I watched her slip out of her clothes down to her bra and panties. She put on a bathrobe, obviously getting ready to go in and take a shower in preparation for going to work. I breathed a sigh of relief, the 'show' was basically over though I had guiltily enjoyed it, and purposely focused on the TV program when Lisa emerged from her bedroom turning the corner, and headed down the hallway towards the bathroom. Moments later, I could hear the shower running. Moments after that, I heard what I thought was Lisa calling out to me. I still wasn't even sure I had heard her until she obviously opened the door and called out to me once again. 


I got up off the couch, and tentatively walked around the corner and down the hall. Sure enough, there she was standing behind a crack in the bathroom door, peeking out towards me as I approached.

"David," she said. "I forgot to get a bottle of shampoo out of storage in the utility room. Would you be so kind as to run and get one for me please?"

I certainly knew exactly where it was she was telling me to go. They stored several items out in their laundry room, and I remember seeing several bath items stored there in quantity. Figuring then that this was a simple request, and with no one else around and available to retrieve a shampoo for her, I immediately left to go and get one.

A few minutes later I returned. The bathroom door was now closed however, and I could hear that Lisa was once again inside the shower. I knocked, expecting her to get out and meet me at the door where I could pass the bottle through the small opening when she did. To my surprise however, I heard Lisa ask me to come in.

I stood there momentarily surprised and once again a little unsure of what it was that she'd asked me to do. So I knocked instead. And once again, she told me to bring the bottle into the bathroom. But this time added by way of explanation, "Don't worry, you can't see anything, the shower curtain is pulled."

Still...the "thought" of actually walking into the bathroom where Tracy's mom was showering was a little unnerving. But she had said that I wouldn't be able to see anything, though even then I half hoped that I would, figuring I'd simply hand her the bottle of shampoo through the curtain or something when I walked in, and then retreat quite rapidly back outside again.

I opened the door, the steam from the hot shower already filling up the bathroom. If I were to see anything, it wasn't going to be very easy, and I knew then that I wouldn't and that all would be just as she said it would. I approached the shower curtain, bottle in hand, said something like "here" and held it out in her direction. I watched the curtain part, realizing as it did that I could see the brief silhouette of her as she stood behind the curtain. But what I wasn't prepared for as she pulled the curtain open, was her reflection in the bath-tile behind her on the wall, clearly revealing her nude body to me completely. 

Her breasts were large, even larger than Tracy's perhaps. A fact that for whatever reason had gone unnoticed by me until this very moment. But the most distinct image that suddenly burned itself into my mind, was the dark thick patch of pubic hair that I was able to clearly distinguish between her legs. All this had happened of course within the span of a few seconds time, but to me, it had seemed like an eternity. I handed her the bottle of shampoo as she reached for it around the curtain; my eyes still fixed distinctly on the image that was displayed on the bathroom tiles as I did. I turned, and started to walk back towards the bathroom door.

"Sit down on the toilet," Lisa told me. "So we can have a little chat!"

It wasn't so much a request, but more like a command. And this time I felt by the tone of her voice that getting the shampoo was nothing more than a ploy in order to corner me about what Tracy and I had planned, or what we'd been up to or something. Though choosing this particular setting to do that in was certainly a little strange.

"Leave the door cracked," she had added. "So we can hear the phone ring, or the door open." 

That gave me a little comfort. Though very little. I was nervous enough already sitting inside the bathroom with her, Lisa nude just behind the shower curtain, me sitting on the John, though fully dressed of course. I could just see someone coming home and finding me sitting here. That would be a hard one to explain for either one of us. 

Sitting down as I had been asked however, I made sure I had one ear on any sounds coming from the inside of the house, especially the phone. The other, was only then starting to tune in to what it was that Lisa had started asking me about.

Lisa began by telling me that she and Tracy had had several long female-to-female chats about us. And though that didn't surprise me really, when she told me that Tracy had told her everything we'd been doing, that did! I honestly couldn't imagine Tracy telling her mother "everything" but then as Lisa began to share with me some of which Tracy had told her, I began to wonder. It could have been a bluff too, a way of getting me to let down my guard, so I remained very dubious and uncommitted to her questioning. Sensing this, she began getting more specific with me however, and then I couldn't help but wonder just how much Tracy really had told her mother.

"I know that the two of you care a great deal about one another." She began. "And possibly, you may even love one another, though I think you're still far too young to understand the meaning of that yet. However, I know that the two of you have been experiencing certain urges and desires for one another, and that you have grown intimate in several areas already."

Listening to Lisa tell me all this was quite worrisome, and I was beginning to feel very uneasy and alarmed that she was about to pull out the rug from under me or something by way of some threat or promise to reveal all to Tracy's father. But I began to notice a change in her accusatory tone when she began subtly asking me for more specific details of what we'd been doing so far.

"Don't get me wrong, I believe what Tracy's told me so far as being the truth, and especially that the two of you haven't engaged in sexual intercourse. But! I want to hear your side of it as well so that I can compare it to what she's told me. Then, if it matches up, I will know that I'm not being lied to, and won't feel like I have to take it any further as long as I believe I can trust the two of you."

Though she hadn't come out and said it, the implied threat was there. I didn't know if she would in fact involve Tracy's father, but I certainly didn't want to chance the risk of that either. As I sat listening to her, thinking about what my options were, I found I really didn't have any. If I failed to tell her everything, and if Tracy had, then it would look like we were trying to hide more.

"What is it you want to know?" I responded. And only then really looked up towards the shower curtain half expecting her to pop her head out to look at me. She didn't but as I continued watching her shadow behind the curtain, the outlines of her body so distinctly being shown, I couldn't help but feel a slight excitement building either as I began to get from her the type of information she was looking for.

"I want you to tell me how often that the two of you masturbated one another, where, when, and basically how often. How many times have you orally satisfied each other? Everything basically, from the beginning."

She obviously hadn't left any room for maneuvering that was for sure. And so I began, sitting there on the toilet seat, describing in fairly explicit detail our encounters, from the first day inside my car when Tracy first allowed me to see and play with her breasts. Including the time when we'd first seen one another naked on the night in which she had discovered my missing wallet.

It was while I was sitting describing all this to her that I continued looking at and almost through the shower curtain. What had appeared to me initially as her continuance of washing herself, suddenly appeared to be much more than that. I suddenly noticed that she seemed to be spending an inordinate amount of time washing between her legs, which is what she at first appeared to be doing. But as I continued to describe some of our more intimate sessions spent together, our marathon "69" encounters at my place after school, I saw that Lisa was continuing to wash herself "down there" for long periods of time. In fact, that's about all she was doing. I became excited, wondering. Was she in fact masturbating in the shower while I was sitting here telling her all this? No. She couldn't possibly be doing that; it had to be my over active imagination. I continued however, still keeping a careful and watchful ear for the phone, or the sound of the front door opening, anything. But wondering as well if what I had now begun to suspect were true, began to get a little more explicit in my visualization to her. At one point, I thought I actually heard her moan, though with the sound of the water covering most everything else, I couldn't be exactly sure of that. One thing I was becoming sure of however was that she wasn't just washing. Not constantly like she had been anyway. Finally, she semi confirmed what I had begun to suspect.

"Do you enjoy licking my daughters pussy?" She suddenly asked me.

And her question nearly caught me by surprise. I had to think for a moment but then finally responded to her.

"Why do you ask that?" I questioned back.

I saw her stop doing whatever it was that she was doing. And thought I had gone too far, felt momentarily that I had now put her into an uncomfortable corner, and that this discussion would suddenly come to a screeching halt, and I realized I didn't really want that to happen, not yet anyway.

Lisa paused for a moment longer before she answered. "The reason I asked is because most men would only do that because they felt they had too, especially if they were involved in orally pleasuring one another simultaneously. I was just wondering if you honestly did enjoy doing it, I'd hate to think that you were like most men, and that Tracy might one day find herself married to a man that was only doing it in order to get his own pleasure from it as well."

Somehow I felt that she had just described her own situation to me in so many words.

"No, it's not like that at all between us. I really do enjoy doing that," I emphasized without coming out and saying that I enjoyed eating out her daughter's cunt. 

"Do you enjoy what she does to you then? Equally as well?" And I watched as she asked me that, as she once again continued to begin 'washing' herself in the same manner as she had been doing previously.




The Summer of 69'



"Yes. She seems to enjoy it, and I certainly do, yes!"

"Do you cum in her mouth?"

Now it was my turn to be surprised. And I sat there in silence for a moment unsure as how to respond to this one, but she let me off the hook when she went on without waiting for an answer.

"Some men don't like that, they think it's dirty or something, and even some women won't do it either for the same reasons. But I think that its something perfectly natural and wonderful, provided that the two people involved are open and honest about it with each other, but more importantly that they truly care about one another."

Once again, I felt she was talking more about herself than anything having to do with either Tracy or me.

"So with all this going on, the two of you have obviously gotten very excited haven't you?"

"Yes."

"And you've certainly thought about fucking too yes?"

"Ah...yes, a few times I guess," surprised at her use of that particular word.

"Only a few?"

"Lisa. I know that Tracy wants to remain a virgin until she's married. And I know that you want her to remain one as well, so yes, we've talked about it, and yes, we've considered doing it anyway. But the most important thing here, if that's your question, is no, we haven't and in all likelihood we won't do it either."

It was at that moment that I heard the phone ring and told her I had.

"Would you mind getting it?"

In a flash, I dashed out of the bathroom, somewhat relieved to be doing so, and gently closed the door behind me as I left.

Tracy was surprised when I answered.

"David?" She questioned.

"Your mom's in the shower" I answered truthfully enough. "Thought I'd better answer the phone, thought it might be you. Should I hang around and wait?" 

I knew I must sound like I'd been running a mile or more, out of breath, still excited with my heart beating like wild drums. I half expected her to ask me what I'd been doing.

"I just wanted to call and say my replacement's on the way. It shouldn't be too much longer. You still want to wait for me? Or would you rather I call you when I do get home?"

"I'll wait," I said. But I wondered if that was the wisest decision I'd ever made. I heard the shower stop, knew that Lisa would be getting out of the shower, and that she'd possibly want to continue on with our little chat too. I still wasn't sure if I was comfortable with doing that or not. But there was that other side of me that had found all of this quite stimulating as well as wickedly exciting too.

I hung up the phone, once again sitting down on the couch to finish my now fairly warm coke, and saw Lisa head out of the bathroom down the hall once again towards her bedroom. She didn't bother closing the door this time either, and shortly after she turned the corner in the bedroom, I saw through the mirror as she dropped the bathrobe, and stood naked before my very eyes. She slipped from my sight momentarily and I saw a blouse and a pair of pants suddenly flung onto the bed. She came back into view and walked over towards the dresser, which contained the mirror. Almost immediately, I refocused my attention back on the TV. I knew that if I could see her, she could see me. I was determined at that point to completely refrain from even glancing in her direction until she'd finally left the room.

Minutes later she did emerge from the bedroom, once again wearing the bathrobe. She carried a blouse and a pair of pants over one arm. The ironing board was sitting where it usually was. All it needed was to be plugged in and warmed up. 

"Would you like a fresh coke?" She asked as she walked by where I was sitting.

"Oh. No thank you. I'm fine."

Lisa smiled at me, started to say something and then decided against it. I watched her walk over to the ironing board; bend over to retrieve the plug of the iron to put it into the wall outlet. It was at that moment I watched her robe part and got a spectacular view of her bare breasts. Lisa plugged in the iron and without so much as a care that I might have seen her boobs; she stood up and adjusted the dial on the appliance. Her robe was still slightly open, though not nearly as much as it had been of course when she leaned over, but sufficient enough to show a very open deep cleavage of those magnificent breasts. She looked up at me, saw that I was looking at her, and smiled once again. This time she nailed me to the wall.

"I know I'm considerably older than Tracy, but do you think my breasts are still attractive for a woman my age?"

My teenage years gave me away, and I sounded too much like Beaver Clever for my stupid response, and regretted it almost the moment I spoke the words.

"Gee Mrs. Stillman, I wouldn't really know..."

But the 'look' she threw at me stopped me in mid sentence. She knew I was lying, and my face flushed almost immediately with the heat of the out and out lie.

"What you're really saying is you didn't get a very good look at them in the bathroom, or in the bedroom just now to form an honest opinion."

My face went even a brighter red in color; I knew it, because I felt it. She'd known I had seen her both times. Knew I had been looking, and had obviously watched her undressing in the bedroom.

I swallowed, my throat suddenly very dry, wishing now that I had taken her up on that offer of a fresh coke.

"Well, I didn't look very long. What I meant to say was, I didn't mean to look, I just sorta glanced up and saw you, and then..."

And then Lisa pulled the robe off and as though suddenly in slow motion, I watched it falling to the floor as she stood behind the ironing board. I watched it pass by the edge of it, watched as both of her beautiful well formed and very full mature breasts suddenly sprang into view. Watched it pass by the tops of her legs, which now riveted my attention towards that area as well, saw the 'black-patch' of her triangle nestled between her legs, knowing I was not only looking at her breasts, but at her pussy now too. 

"Now tell me what you think," she said, and there was a definite 'lusty' edge to her voice that had not been there before.

"Your beautiful!" I said truthfully, for indeed she was. As pretty and as exciting as Tracy was, there was something to be said for the mature beauty that I saw in her mother. She didn't have the subtle perkiness of still young smooth skin, but what she had was the lush exotic well-formed, voluptuousness that Tracy didn't have. And it struck me as nothing ever had before, and perhaps ever since.

"You do like my breasts then?" She said, actually cupping each one of them in her hands. "They're not as 'firm' as they once were, certainly not nearly as firm as Tracy's are I'm sure," I couldn't not look as she stood there playing with her own tits, even as she continued speaking, "But large breasts run in our family, and one day I am sure that Tracy's will look very similar to mine."

I had an immediate picture of that. Lisa's beautiful 'cupped' breasts on Tracy's chest instead of her own boobs. And I liked the fantasy. Lisa saw me smiling.

"So, you do like them then!"

"Oh yes Mrs..."

"You've already addressed me as Lisa, I don't think we need to go backwards here on formality just because you've seen me naked. Do you?"

This time I simply shook my head in agreement with her. It was easier, and I was beginning to find the parched throat starting to thicken my tongue with the inability to speak now as it was.

Lisa glanced down at her watch, "Hmmmm, I've got just enough time to finish ironing my clothes before I need to leave for work, and before Tracy gets home."

I assumed our little game was finally over. That Lisa would put her robe on, finish ironing as she said, and quickly get dressed, hopefully leaving before Tracy in fact arrived home.

"So...now you get to show me yours. And you'd better hurry."

"Wha, wha, wha-t?" I had stammered. Truly stunned now, and this time honestly not sure I had heard what I'd heard. "What did you just ask me?" I questioned once again.

"Well, I think that alls fair. You sat here watching and looking at me. Saw me in the bathroom..."

"I didn't see much of you in the bathroom," like that was any sort of defensive statement to have made.

"But you did watch me playing with myself in the shower didn't you? You certainly knew I was doing that, and I know what you can see through the curtains, and I know you could see what I was doing. Admit it, it turned you on to watch me. If it hadn't you would have left no matter what I said to you."

She had me there that much was for sure. But the problem now was, I wasn't hard. I had been earlier in the bathroom yes, and even felt it start to rise a little when she was in the bedroom. But now, out here, I was more nervous and scared than anything else, and my cock wouldn't have risen if she'd started playing with herself. (Well maybe anyway). But I knew right then and there that there was no way I was going to be able to play show and tell with her if there was nothing to show, and nothing much to tell about in the condition I was currently in.

Thankfully, I think she saw it in my face then too. I was in a real corner with nowhere to go. But I wasn't going to move from it either.

"Tell you what. Lets just say for the time being you owe me one. But the next time we are ever alone together, you at least owe me a peek at what my daughters been playing with and sucking all this time. Agreed?"

I'd have agreed to just about anything at that moment. I was worried of course that Tracy would be home any second now, and that seeing the two of us here together no matter how innocent it would seem, (provided her mother hurried up and got dressed that was), that I'd have a look of guilty written all over my face.

"Ok, sure. Next time for sure," I responded sheepishly. 

Whether it was luck, timing, or pure coincidence of circumstance, the very next Saturday was almost like experiencing De'javu all over again. Once again I had driven over expecting to meet Tracy moments right behind my pulling up. And once again, Lisa inviting me in to wait, the phone call, the apology for her running late because her relief hadn't shown up. I half expected to hear the shower running. But Lisa was already dressed for work, so that much wasn't exactly the same at least. That would have been really weird. Even so...

"Tracy held up at work again huh?"

"Looks like."

"She say how long?"

Maybe I should have seen it coming, maybe I did even. But I went blindly along as though I didn't or that it wouldn't.

"No longer than an hour, maybe even a little less".

"Plenty of time then," she said.

And I remembered the promise.

"I don't think I can Lisa. I know I promised, but I can't just you know...stick it out like that and show you. Please don't make me do that, not like this."

"How then?"

I honestly didn't know. I was scared and nervous and stupid feeling all over again.

"What if you were looking at me again?" she offered. "Would that help?"

"Ah, maybe." I said, still unsure, still not at all positive I could do it even if she was naked.

But Lisa took that as a yes. She crossed over to the door. Locked it. "No sense taking any chances," she said, more for my benefit and in some attempt to calm me down somewhat. Little good it would have actually done if someone had come home. How do you explain a locked door when someone's home? Especially just the two of us, but I wasn't thinking along those lines, and the locked door did help.

Lisa undid all the buttons on her dress and simply stepped out of it. Next, she reached behind and unclasped her bra nearly as easily as she'd done with the dress. Once again her breasts were bare, and she stood now in only garters, stockings and panties. The sight of her was exciting as hell and my young cock swiftly began to rise at the vision that I was looking at. But what really did it, was when she reached down and started running her hand up and down the front of her panties, across where I could faintly see that dark patch of pussy hair. 

The moment my cock was nice and hard, I thought "Its now or never" and unzipped my jeans. The obvious bulge in my shorts was quickly revealed as I dropped my Levi's down around my ankles. I wasn't about to remove them entirely, and she knew that. Finally, I slipped my fingers under the waistband of my shorts and somewhat quickly, slid them down. Believe it or not, I wasn't sure I was wearing the best pair of my underwear, and for some reason, wearing ragged or holey looking shorts seemed important all of a sudden for some reason. 

"My young proud cock was standing up at least" I thought, and wondered just how long she was going to require me to stand like this in front of her.

But when I expected her to nod her head or some such, relieving me of my obligation to her, she just continued to stand there touching herself looking at me. And watching her doing that was having a pronounced affect on me as well. 

"Play with it for me".

And now I stood there in front of Lisa jacking myself off while she watched me, watching her doing basically the same thing.

After a few minutes of this I felt like if we continued, I was going to explode, and I was beginning to want to do that, just about more than anything. I saw an almost glassy-eyed look cross her face, saw her shiver and slightly bend at the knee. I knew she'd had an orgasm, even if it was a small one. No loud moaning, groaning, or thrashing about. Just a nice soft lingering cum, and it was the most exciting thing I had ever seen.

"You getting close?" She asked me almost whispering the question as she asked it.

"Yes...maybe," I added unsure now if I should.

"Would you like some help?"

And that one I didn't know how to answer, and just stood there. Lisa walked over towards me, reached out and replaced my hand with her own. I felt her begin to softly stroke me up and down, and knew at once I was a lot closer than I thought I was.

She'd knew I would be too, and covered the head of my dick with her hand just as the first splash of my sperm filled her palm. She stood there, jacking my cock with one hand, and cupping the head of it with the other in a somewhat useless attempt to capture all of my ejaculations. All I knew was that I felt dizzy and lightheaded. Lisa, Tracy's mother had just beat me off!

I had hardly finished climaxing when I suddenly bent over retrieving both my jeans and shorts at the same time. I quickly drew them up together and in moments was zipping up my fly, tucking my shirt back in and feeling guilty as hell.

Lisa was still nude, hadn't moved an inch, watching me do all this. Her hand was still hanging in the air near her breast, the palm of which was covered in my cum, sticky between her fingers and running down along the inside of her arm.

"Did you enjoy that?"

"Ah huh" was all I could manage to say. But I did nervously smile at her. After all, she was still naked, and damn she still looked hot. If I wasn't still so unsure of things, of Tracy's coming home, of what I was feeling right then, I could have gotten hard all over again in a few minutes. But as it was.

"Good. Then we'll do it again sometime, when we have more time for the both of us to enjoy it," she said. Turning, not giving me a chance to respond back to her, she picked up her discarded dress and bra, still holding up her cum drenched hand and arm, and headed towards the bathroom.

"I'll just wait outside in the car for Tracy!" I called out.

But Lisa didn't respond back to me. I fought with the door for a moment until I realized it was still locked. I finally turned the little knob unlocking it, and hurriedly went outside to my car. I was still sitting there when Lisa came out of the house, dressed once again and looking as though nothing at all had just happened. She got into her car, and began to back out of the drive when she smiled and waved at me, and then drove away.

A short time later, Tracy finally got home, and we hurried inside the house into her bedroom, and sucked one another like crazy for a solid hour after that.

I'd given her at least two, possibly three really nice orgasms by licking her until she was so exhausted she had to force me away from her.

"Wow!" She had stated. "What on earth got into you anyway? I think that's the best that's ever felt!" And if I had been, was in fact still horny, I suddenly lost the urge and the hardon at last. 

"Oh...just been missing you I guess. We don't seem to have the same amount of "special" time" as we called it, "that we used to have!" I didn't run into Lisa again until just days before graduation. Not alone together at least. With the upcoming ceremonies and the craziness of graduation itself, along with several parties and what not, Tracy and I were never alone. We'd not had time to do anything except for some mild grab-assing, and major flirting, but nothing else. And my hormones were running on overtime.

And like all things, sometimes the pressure and adolescent stupidity contributes to situations that we much later regret doing. I know I did. 

Tracy and I broke up on the very day we Graduated.

It was a stupid argument, an accusation made, (unfounded of course) perhaps by periods of my own nagging guilt, but whatever the reason, we had broken up, and my prideful stubbornness kept me from calling her or going over to see her and make amends like we'd always managed to do before.

Two, perhaps slightly more month's later, I got a phone call at home. I remember my father handing the phone to me a puzzled look on his face.

"Who is it?" I asked.

"Don't know, some woman, she's crying and said she needs to speak to you."

It was Lisa.

"Lisa? What's wrong?" Once again all the emotions all the excitement, all the fear, nervousness, everything came flooding back all at once.

"Robert" Was all she said. And I knew.

Robert was Tracy's older brother. He'd graduated the year before we had. He'd joined the Army nearly straight out of High School, and without her having to tell me; I knew he'd been killed over in Vietnam.

"I need to see you," she said.

"Where? When?"

"Now, right now. I'll come by and get you." And the phone went dead in my hand.

I saw my mother and father standing in the kitchen looking at me.

 "Roberts dead," I said. "Killed..."

"Wasn't that Robert's mother?" My father asked interrupting me.

"Yes...she said she wanted, needed to speak to me, tell me about something. Maybe it's got something to do with Tracy." I added. And that seemed to mollify their curiosity about why she'd be calling me. They knew of course we'd broken up, so maybe this had something important to do with that. But they didn't question me any further on the subject either. Even afterwards.

Lisa pulled up in front of the house, I got in, and without a single word we drove off. We arrived at a hotel a short time after that. Lisa went inside, I remained in the car. We entered the room, still having not uttered a single solitary word to one another, until then.

"I need you to make love to me," was all she said.

We removed our clothing in silence, I climbed into bed, waited for her to use the bathroom and then join me. I had turned off the light, and as she came into the nearly dark room, she turned on the bedside lamp.

"No. I want to see you. Not in the dark, not alone."

She pulled me towards her, there was no foreplay, there was no preparation. She was wet already, though why I don't know. And I slid into her easily and quickly. And I came inside her almost the moment I did. She held me against her breast afterwards, softly crying, softly breathing into my ear, I don't know for how long, it didn't matter really. Then she rolled me over, began sucking my very limp cock, and brought me back to life once again. This time, I managed to last a while. And we rocked together for a much longer time, taking it slowly, exploring one another in ways I'd only dreamed of. 




The Summer of 69'



An eternity later, Lisa got up, went into the bathroom and washed. She came back into the room, this time turning out the light herself, and we fell asleep in each other's arms. Sometime during the night I felt her stroking me, waking me up. And this time I moved down between her legs and began licking her the way I'd so enjoyed licking Tracy. Lisa came, and then came again, and then again. At some point, she pushed me away from her, and then climbed on top of me, and we fucked like this until she came once again. And this time I lasted longer than she did. But not much longer. It was exquisite, sensual, as well as sad. It was the one and only time we ever made love, or where ever with one another again. She took me home in the morning, dropped me off in front of the house. My dad was waiting. But he wasn't mad, wasn't even upset. He looked at me, hugged me to him. First time in a long while I ever remember him doing that. And said simply.

"You'll always remember the first time".

Boy, did he ever have that right.

Three weeks later I stopped by where Tracy was working to say good-bye, tell her I had joined the Navy and was leaving soon. I knew in doing that, that had we have sat down, discussed all that had happened between us, that perhaps we'd have ended up together once again. She'd even hinted in a roundabout way, that perhaps she could leave me with something to remember her by.

That wouldn't have been fair to her though. And I'm not sure I could have lived with the guilt in doing that to her. The memory I held now was of another. 



The Summer of '78



Although this episode occurred several years ago, in the late 1970's, I have been moved recently to put it down in writing. It was only a one-time thing, and I have struggled over the years in dealing with it. Only lately have I begun to accept it for what it was; a careless and very naughty game between a mother and son.

As I mentioned, this was the late 1970's. I had finished one year of college and was 19 at the time. One hot afternoon in late August, I had returned home a day early from my summer job as a counselor for a sleep-away band camp in New Hampshire. My mother was to have picked me up the following day from the designated bus stop downtown, but a friend offered me a ride home from camp, which I accepted knowing that my mom was most likely busy with household chores. I wished to surprise her and my dad as well.

As my friend's car entered the driveway, I could see that only my mom's car was in the driveway, meaning that my dad was working the night shift again for Bell Telephone.

"Hello?" I said, as I entered the house. No response. "Hello? It's your favorite son, home from camp!" Again, no response. 

I caught a familiar aroma of homemade pasta sauce simmering on the stove. My mom, a second generation Italian, was a fantastic cook and her sauce was second to none. She most likely made is especially for my homecoming.

I looked around the house for signs of life, but found none. I deposited my camp gear and trumpet in my bedroom upstairs. Downstairs, back in the kitchen, I had a taste of the pasta sauce- a Bolognese-which was absolutely delicious. I noticed a half-empty bottle of Seagram's 7 on the counter next to an empty bottle of Seven-Up. Seven and 7 was mom's drink of choice, so she was surely nearby. I went out the sliding glass door to the back yard, where I thought she might be gardening. Not there, either. 

We had a large back yard, with an in-ground pool that had been installed a few years previous. Local building codes mandated that all residential pools must be surrounded with fencing at a minimum height of 5 feet. My dad, ever cautious, decided that an 8-foot stockade fence would be even better, so this pool at the very end of the property against the woods, looked like a mini garrison from the house.

The gate to the pool was closed, and as I neared the surrounding fencing, I could manage to see faintly through the cracks. I paused for a closer look through one of the larger cracks in the fence and saw my mom lounging in the water on a floating rubber raft. The raft was a new one and quite large, with a built-in drink holder on the armrest. Mom was laying face up with some chic new designer sunglasses, Wayfarers. She was wearing her only suit, a somewhat dated white bikini with spaghetti straps in the back. There was some fraying on the edges, but mom still seemed to fill out this suit quite nicely. Her tanned Mediterranean olive skin nicely offset the whiteness of the bikini. 

For a woman in her late forties, she was extremely well preserved. She stood only about 5 feet 2 inches, but had an ample rack of tits that I had always marveled at. Even after 47 years and 3 children, they stood up quite nicely. On occasion I had spied an oblique glance at her hardened nipples through the angora sweaters she favored in winter months. God, how I loved the feel of her hugs with that sweater on! Although mom was not an athlete by any means, she did maintain a trim body and weighed in at around 115 lbs. Her belly had a vertical caesarian section scar thanks to my little sister, Gina, but was otherwise flat. In today's world, I guess she would be aptly named a spinner-M.I.L.F.

The split second it took me to swing open the pool gate would change my life forever. As I released the gate latch and entered with a loud, "Look who's back!" I caught my mom quickly remove her hand from her white bikini bottom. "Greg!" she cried out, "I didn't expect to see you until tomorrow afternoon!" With her sunglasses on, it was hard to tell what her eyes were saying, but her tone of voice indicated a bit of disappointment and exasperation for some reason. Mom could have a very hot temper at times, but she seemed to be holding it back a bit now. As I spoke, a thousand ideas flew trough my mind regarding what I had just seen my mom do. 

"I was offered a ride back home early with Tim McGrath's family, so I took it. I could give Tim a call back to see if I could have a sleepover at his house tonight if you want." I said, hoping to calm her a bit. 

"Don't be silly, honey! It's great to see you back! How was camp? Tell me everything!". Her mood seemed to lighten very quickly, and she moved her sunglasses to the top of her head. Her eyes had a happy/sleepy look I had only seen her have at the cocktail parties she and dad hosted once in a while at our house. She clearly was looking forward to a quite night alone at her home, with all the pleasures that might accompany it. I had evidently spoiled that for her. 

"Tell you what, Greg. You can tell me everything over dinner. I've made a fresh pasta sauce and we can have a nice meal together later. Why don't you put on your suit and join me for a quick dip before dinner?" she asked, as she took a long sip from her Seven & 7. 

"Sounds great, mom!" I answered as I headed back toward the gate. "I'll be back in a little while".

Did I just catch my mom playing with herself? Really? Holy Shit! Maybe she just had an itch. Whatever it was, it had my mind racing with thoughts. My penis was semi-erect from the mere excitement of that fleeting moment, and hopefully mom did not notice any of that through my Levi's at the pool. I went back into my room and fished out my bathing suit from my camp duffle bag. As I stripped down to put on my suit, I took a look toward the pool out of my bedroom window. It was hard to see much from that distance, but I could still make out the figure of a white bikini on a raft. I ran naked to my big brother Nick's bedroom and grabbed his binoculars from his closet. My breathing was getting quicker and my heart was pounding. Back in my room, I focused the binoculars on the raft and watched in amazement as my mom reached back into her bikini bottom with her right hand. While I could not detect exactly what she was doing from this distance, her hand was under there for well over 5 minutes. I was frozen in awe as I stood perfectly still at my window, binoculars raised with my cock now at full mast. This was by far the most sexually excited I had ever been in my entire life.

I slipped on my bathing suit and grabbed a pool towel from the bathroom. A thought occurred to me on my way downstairs, and I quickly bounded back up the stairs. My old Swim team bathing suit, on of the Mark Spitz models with an American flag motif by Speedo, had not been worn in well over a year. I found it at the bottom of my underwear draw and tried it on. My dick had gone down a bit now, but with this suit on, my package was pretty evident. I was in such a hazy mental state that I was frankly curious to see if I could somehow turn my mom on. I wrapped my towel around my waist and headed for the pool.

Mom had flipped onto her stomach now on the raft, only to look up once she heard me at the poolside. I unwrapped the towel, merciful at the sight of my now flaccid member in the Speedo. 

"Hey! I haven't seen that in while", mom said with a smile, pointing to the Speedo. "Looking good, champ! Camp seems to have agreed with you." 

This was true. I had shed some pounds at camp (the food was terrible) and spent a four weeks teaching trumpet, swimming and rowing on a lake. I was tanned and trim and really felt the best I ever had. I fitted my swim team goggles onto my head and made my best racing dive from the deep end. I swam the length of the pool underwater.

The underside of mom's raft held yet another visual pleasure for me. Manufactured a translucent orange plastic, I could see through the bottom of the raft. My mom's tanned body, somewhat wet and pressed against the raft, revealed a few things that I had not yet had the privilege of viewing. The outer circles of both nipples, dark brown and silver dollar in size, were clearly visible to me through both the raft and the bikini top! "Shit", I thought to myself, as my cock once again stiffened against my Speedo in the cool water. A few more underwater passes and I was able to make out the shadow of mom's dark brown bush under her bikini bottom. There were several noticeable strands of her dark pubic hair sticking out of the sides of the frayed bikini as well. My dick was pressing relentlessly against the Speedo now.

"So talk to me, Greg", mom said, as I finally surfaced, "and give your mom a kiss." I leaned forward and gave her a quick peck on the lips, detecting a faint taste of booze and Bonnie Bell Lip Smackers. 

"Well, what would you like to hear first, mom?" I offered, thankful that she could not see my erection underwater with her sunglasses on. 

"Did you meet any new friends", she asked. "A few nice kids, yeah, but lot's of your typical band geeks-just like last year." "Any nice girls?" she asked coyly. 

"Yeah, one named Samantha who was alright. Played clarinet." In truth, I had my first sexual encounter with Samantha the week before camp ended, receiving my first hand job from her in the lake boathouse after a campfire. 

"Anything else, Greg?" she asked. 

Sheepishly, I replied "Awe mom, I'll tell you at dinner. Hey, where is everyone, anyway?" 

She sighed and said, "Your dad has been working nightshift now since you left for camp. He's away a lot these days." She added, her voice trailing off a bit tinged with sadness. "Nick left for college football camp this morning and Gina went with her best friend's family for a 2 night camping trip. It's just you and me, kiddo." She was evidently tipsy, as her speech pattern was a bit slower then usual.

With that, she removed her sunglasses and slid sideways off of the raft and into the pool. I jumped onto the raft, stomach side down, hoping to squash my erectness. What the hell had I been thinking by wearing this thing now?! Mom did a few laps with her head out of the water, and then disappeared under the raft. She came up on the other side if the raft, tossing her shoulder level auburn hair back and behind her ears. She had big ears compared to the size of her head, but her hair almost always covered them. They looked delectable to me now as they glistened in the early evening setting sun. 

"Make room, champ! There's plenty of room on that raft for the two of us," she said. And with that, hoisted her body in one motion onto the raft, smashing into me with wet softness. 

"What the heck, mom!" I said, with my engorged member now just inches from her pussy. 

"Turn over and tell me more about camp, Greg" mom implored. 

Fuck no, if I turned over now, I would be in for the embarrassment of a lifetime. "No mom, I'm pretty comfy laying face down, actually." I said. 

"Fine, fine, but do me a favor and hand me my drink from the cup holder, will ya' hon?" she asked. To accomplish this task for her, I had to turn over, sit up and twist to my right in order to hand her the drink. I thought about it for a second and though that I could do a quick maneuver without her detecting a thing before returning to my position. 

As I began to sit up, I braced myself with my left hand as I reached for her drink with the right. The left hand suddenly slipped on the wet raft. Within a matter of seconds, the drink went up and landed in the pool, I fell onto my back next to her and realized that some thing had gone awry with my old Speedo. The old elasticized waistband had given out and snapped. My throbbing cock was now in full view of my mom's bulging eyeballs. Simultaneously, she offered softly but audibly, "Holy mother of Christ!" as I tried unsuccessfully to pull my broken Speedo above the head of my dick. I managed only to slide it sideways, toward my hip under the suit, but the boner from hell was still not to be totally hidden now.

"I am so sorry, mom", I cried, my face now a bright crimson hue. Her eyes were still like saucers but she had managed to close her mouth a bit from its previous drop-jawed state. 

After what seemed a lifetime, she said to me, "Greg. There's nothing to be ashamed of. Accidents happen. Let me get you a towel to cover up." She jumped off the raft and went up the steps on the ladder. As she came back to into the water with a towel held above her head, it was plain to see that her sizable nipples were now at full attention and poking about a half inch outwards. Mom evidently enjoyed this unplanned show quite a bit. I could also tell that her breathing was accelerated by the rise and fall of her boobs. Holy shit, what a predicament.

What happened next is the stuff of pure fable. Mom draped the towel over my crotch, and as she drew her hands away, the right one lingered over and traced the outline of my penis. I made an audible gasp, as she smiled and said, "Honey, I don't know what you are packing down there but what I saw was WAY bigger than your dad's." I had never seen my dad's penis, erect or otherwise, as he was a fairly reserved and protective person. I had measured my penis may times, and knew it to be exactly 8 ¼ inches. The base was pretty normal, but it grew in girth toward the head like an ice cream come. Samantha could not get over how thick my dick head was at camp.

Mom stopped tracing my cock through the towel, and now grabbed it firmly with both hands. Her eyes held fast to the package in her grasp as she then began a slow but deliberate cock massage through the towel, which had now soaked through with pool water. She was in a veritable trance. I was in utter shock, unable to get much air though my windpipe, let alone speak! The setting sun, cool summer breeze and sight of my aroused mom are forever burned into my memory. She next quickly untied her spaghetti string top, freeing her 36 C's at just about the same height as the raft. They sagged only slightly due to their weight, but were otherwise perfect summer melons ripe for the picking. Somehow, my erection grew stronger at the sight of mom topless, and as she felt this surge her eyes opened a bit wider and she as gave me an appreciative smile. 

"You know Greg, no one will bother us here for at least 12 hours. We could have a lot of fun, you me and HIM." she said, as her eyes moved back to my swollen member. I could not believe what I was seeing or hearing. It was like I was living in the "Twilight Zone", one of my favorite television shows in those days. There was no reality for my to latch on to, as I submitted to my mother and her crazy idea.

Slowly, she removed the towel from my mid-section. Using two hands, she then ripped at the seams on either side of my disintegrating Speedo, which yielded quite easily. I was now completely naked and wet, facing up on the raft in the pool with my erection pointed straight toward to rising moon. Mom looked at it again for a second, shaking her head slowly from side to side, this time saying out loud, "God damn! Who knew?" As she stood topless in the pool, she came to the side of the raft and grabbed by dick at the base with her right hand.

Her head, with its sexy big ears, made its descent toward my mushroom dick head as I thought, "Oh, my fucking God. She is going to suck my cock right here, right now!" Aside from the hand job at camp, no one had ever touched my Johnson before. Now, it seemed, I had an expert cock wrangler in my very own house!

She opened wide and gave my dick head a wet tongue swirl a few times around the tip. This was barely going to fit into her mouth, I thought. I was wrong. She opened even wider, revealing just about all of her teeth and took my 8-¼ inches into her pretty mouth right down to its hilt. She looked sideways up at me, holding my gaze. Her lips hidden now in my pubic hairs, she began slowly coming up the shaft of my penis while maintaining a perfect combination of suction and saliva. Having never had the other-worldly sensation of my dick in a woman's mouth before, I knew right away that it was best thing I had every felt in my lifetime and that I could not last very long before ejaculating.

After a dozen slow and deliberate bobs up and down my shaft, she released my cock head from her lips with a loud pop. "Oh, mom!" I said, "Suck it some more! It feels amazing!" Placing just the tip of my prick inside her mouth, she began stroking the length of my shaft while humming lowly. She was a bona fide virtuoso cocksucker! My legs began to tremble uncontrollably and my abdomen was convulsing as well. The telltale signs of an orgasm were rising up inside me. I had not cum for over a week, since Samantha drained me at camp, and I just knew that there was lots of cum built up by now.

Mom was now alternately stroking me by hand, followed by a hands-free deep throating. I was done. I grabbed hold of both sexy ears and yelled "Mommmmmm!!!" releasing my load inside her mouth. The orgasm seemed to last an eternity, with probably 7 or 8 distinct shots. With my cock in her mouth, she was now moaning "Mmm, mmm, mmm!" as if she had just tasted something truly delectable. She stayed still with my cock in her mouth for at least a minute if not more, her eyes now closed. Finally, she took it out and swallowed the entire load while looking directly up and into my astonished eyes. Two streaks of white cum rolled down the corners of her mouth, briefly giving her a bizarre vampire look. Her tongue emerged and in two quick motions licked the remaining spunk from her mouth.

"Well, I think now it's dinner time, Greg!" she said, and with that, went up the ladder, grabbed to towel and headed through the gate toward the house with her bare tits swaying back an forth in the moonlight.