10 comments/ 250296 views/ 50 favorites Mother's Ultimate Submission By: showher This story started two years ago. If the reader would like to become familiar with the background the sequence of this loosely knit group of narratives is; "At My Mother's Breast", "Mother's Breast: The Reunion", "Mother's Breast" and "Reunion With Mother". * I'm somewhere near Yankee Station off the coast of Viet Nam; adrift in a small, yellow rubber boat of the type found in fighter planes. There are no ships in sight. Naked from the waist down except for a pair of jungle boots my upper torso is covered in what seems to be the remains of a tiger suit. To top off this bizarre attire, or lack of it, I am wearing a WWII style steel pot. I feel no distress at my situation; in fact, there is a distinct feeling of euphoria. The sea water sloshing back and forth in the bottom of the life raft has been warmed to bath temperature by the sun. I lay against the boat's rubber side nodding under the sparkling blue sky. As the raft raises and drops on the waves the warm water washes over my exposed genitals and then recedes. The gentle rhythm of the warm wetness is summoning an erection. My penis is repeatedly and pleasantly baptized by the hot wet brine. My eyes flutter once, twice and the sparkling blue of the sky starts to dissolve; replaced by the stark whiteness of a hotel room ceiling, brightly lighted by the late morning sunlight filtering through the sheer curtains. I slowly escape the arms of Morpheus and the dream recedes into those secret places of my mind. The sensation of the warm water lapping at my penis remains, like a dream outside a dream. A spasm of pleasure slices through the sleep induced fog drawing my attention to the storm of burnished copper hair spread across my midsection. There, at the intersection of my legs, is my last night's lover paying early morning homage to the instrument of our pleasure. The hot wetness and the lapping of the waves emanates from the mouth of the beautiful woman with the bobbing, red head. "Mother, that feels so great but please come up here and lay beside me," I said in spite of the pleasure I was experiencing. Squirming up my body, to accommodate my wishes, my mother's large dangling breasts and hardened nipples left little trails of fire on my legs and belly. She looked refreshed but used and sluttish; the lipstick was smeared on her, saliva wet, mouth and her mascara had run and smudged around her red, tear filled eyes. "Max, I'm sorry about the way I acted last night," she sighed. "I didn't mean to cry. This is your leave. It's just . . . you know . . . not right." She was wrestling with the guilt and inner turmoil she was suffering as a result of sexually submitting to her own son. Reluctantly submitting but enthusiastically participating. Taking my mother in my arms I hugged her, sleep warm, body to mine. I kissed her dewy eyes then sought her lips letting my tongue lightly brush the corners of her mouth and sucked tenderly on her full lower lip. She responded by moving her belly tighter against mine, trapping my erection between us and allowing the tiny tip of her tongue to trace the junction where her bottom lip disappeared into my mouth. A small moan filled my throat; not from passion but as part of the overwhelming love I felt for this woman. The sensation of love was so deep there were no words to express the longing. I wished for her lovely body to meld into mine, for us to become one. I wanted to suck in her essence that she would be part of me forever. Breaking the soft, warm kiss I nudged my mother onto her back; propped my self up on my left elbow and stared into those emerald green eyes, again, brimming with tears. "Mother, I know you are having a hard time with this relationship. You're right, society says it's wrong but why does it feel so right . . . Why am I consumed by my love and desire for you . . . Why do you respond so hungrily even as you weep with guilt?" Mother's arm encircled my neck and pulled my face down to hers; our lips met softly in a closed mouth kiss that was a testament to the tenderness each felt toward the other. My mouth then traced the delicate jaw line until I was nuzzling her pale seashell ear. "I love you, mother," I whispered. "The words are not strong enough but I love you." Lightly my right hand explored her alabaster form; sliding up the outside of the firm thigh, across the slightly protruding belly and lifting the large white globe of her freckled breast. Moving my head down I gingerly captured the erect nipple with my lips and the tip of my tongue explored its' bumpy surface. "Oh Max, I don't know why I'm letting this happen," her voice catching in her throat, her hand behind my neck. "I only know I can't control it. I've had this trembling feeling in my stomach for days, ever since you first kissed me like a man kisses a woman." In an attempt to lighten her mood, I moved down to bestowed a light kiss on the flaming red hair where my mother's legs joined the curve of her belly, the hair was matted with last nights love fluids. Moving back to my elbow our eyes locked and held. "You know, Max, I've never been made love to, so much, as in these last few days. I feel like I'm in a constant state of excitement." Knowing that her submissive side played a major role in her excitement I stared unblinkingly, into her eyes. I said, "It's because you like me to fuck you, isn't it, Mother?" With a slight intake of breath at the vulgarity and after a moment's hesitation she rasped, "Yes." "You like it when I make you display yourself, don't you mother?" Yesterday, I had made her walk around in the casino without bra and panties her big breasts bouncing and swaying under her tank top. Later she exposed her tits to the room service guy to please me. A mere whisper, "Yes!" "Mother, you tell me, the things you like to do." "I like to make love to you, Max.. I. . " I cut her off with some authority, "Mother! Try again," With her face buried against my neck; in that raspy trembling whisper, "I like to fuck you, Max, Is that what you want to hear? I love to fuck you." Her slim, pink nailed hand crawled down between us to caress the pulsing, bone-hard cock resting against her mons. "I love to suck your big cock. I love you to lick my pussy and I love to show my big bare tits to strangers. There! I'm your fucking slut! Are you happy?" Her face flushed, hot with embarrassment, excitement and desire. She stroked my meat a few times then raised her face to kiss me. I saw the beginning of the first genuinely relaxed look of the morning. I think she felt comfortable when she was subordinate to me. Maybe she felt relieved of the responsibility for her actions. "Yes, Mother, that's what I want to hear. You can be so sexy when you want and your mine to do with as I please, don't forget that and we'll be happy!" "I won't forget; whatever you want, Max," She said cheerily, the melancholy apparently dissipating. Now it was her turn to prop herself up on one elbow - doing interesting things to the large, fleshy tits - facing me. "Do me a favor, Max; may I please have some time to myself this morning? Can you find something to do for a couple hours while I wash my hair and do some woman things? Please, go, eat breakfast, win a bunch of money or whatever?" "Sure mom, but first, I have to take a shower and I want you to do me one favor before I take that shower." "What?" "Roll over and lay on your belly so I can play with your big, beautiful derrière." She replied with a grin, "You are such a bad little boy, sweetie, but I can't resist it when you talk French." She rolled onto her stomach and spread her legs just enough that I could see her copper haired nest and puffy lips just below the place where the cleft of her ass met the lines defining the bottom of each cheek. Gravity's sag spread and accented the inverted heart shape of her white bottom as it flared from her waist. Positioning myself between her thighs it took all my willpower not to drive my hardened cock into her, now, exposed and willing pussy. Instead I squeezed and kneaded the soft, yielding flesh of her ass like a baker making bread. I licked along the crease lines at the bottom of each cheek and allowed my tongue to stray up the cleft, probing the rosebud hiding there. She rewarded me with a deep, throaty sigh. I sat back on my heels and lubricated my middle finger in the hot, greasy depth of my mother's vagina then rested my finger against the tight little button. "Max, what are you doing?" "I'm giving you a preview of things to come." That said, I applied pressure and the finger slipped into her tunnel up to the second knuckle. The little ring of muscle closed tightly around my finger. "That hurts a little, Max. I've never done this before." I drove the digit in as far as I could and thumb of the same hand entered her pussy. "Oooh, please, take it out; you're hurting me!" She moaned. She was unconsciously raising her hips off the bed to allow me better access. I withdrew the finger and drove it home again three for four times; each thrust met by feeble protest and a backward movement of her hips to meet my probe. My teasing completed, I removed my finger, kissed the bottom of each globe, tongued a quick flick at the rosebud, stood up and gave my mother's beautiful ass a resounding slap. Mustering all my will power; I left my willing mother lying, unfulfilled, on the bed. "We'll finish this tonight, love. Right now, I'm going to get cleaned up and then I'm outta' here." I said padding toward the bathroom, rigid penis leading the charge. A shave, a shower and 20 minutes later I emerged from the bathroom in an aromatic cloud of talcum powder, deodorant and Jovan Musk. My excitement had subsided to the state where you just feel an erection beginning. My mother was sitting in the chair, at the small desk, clad in the ever present white terry robe. One pretty foot was drawn up on the chair, exposing her leg, and she was removing the pink nail polish from her toes. I made a mental note to make love to those toes again, as I had on the night I first seduced her. The tangled red hair hung down on each side, hiding her face as she concentrated on her work. With out turning her head or interrupting the paint removal she asked, "What did you mean, finish this tonight? Are you going to spank me or did you mean . . . " "Mom, don't worry about it; you just continue being beautiful and passionate. What did you tell me a little while ago? You said you were my fucking slut! And, you wouldn't forget it." I kissed the top of her head, the faint aroma of gardenias filling my nose. "Max! Why do you have to be so bad?" "Because you love it and I love you." I stood before the mirror. "Not too bad," I thought. I donned navy issue skivvies, chino slacks and stepped into my penny loafers. Pulling on a white golf shirt, I took a swipe at my dark hair; thankful it wasn't my mother's beautiful red and picked up the phone. "Room service? . . . Yes, I'd like a couple scrambled eggs, Canadian bacon, whole wheat toast, orange juice and coffee . . . OK, thank you." In answer to my mother's questioning look, "Your breakfast, mom, it will be here in twenty or thirty minutes. Have fun with the room service guy. Bye." She gave me a light punch in the stomach, a motherly peck on the cheek and said, "Get out and don't come back!" A long pause, "At least for a couple of hours. By the way, you smell really good." A half read copy of the Review-Journal, R&J to the locals, lay on the table beside the remains of my hash and eggs. Thoughts of the events leading me to this place were fast forwarding through my mind as I sipped my third cup of the Navy's life blood. Since I can remember, I have been attracted to my mother. I believe it is a natural, Freudian phase most young men go through but a phase I never seemed to get beyond. As a young adult much of my time was consumed in pursuit of seeing my mother naked. I spied on her in the bath and took every opportunity to catch her in various states of undress. I don't think my forty-something mother ever tried to be sexy. She is a modest, unassuming lady raised as a farmer's daughter. Her wardrobe has always been proper, consistent with current styles but never extreme. Her lingerie is mostly full-cut, white cotton panties and under-wire brassieres of the same sterile white cotton. Her only concession to pride would be a pair or two of full-cut nylon panties in pale yellow or pale blue with a little lace trim and matching bras, full cupped and under-wired, of course. Contrary to her wardrobe choices, she is passionate about lipstick and nail polish. Possibly because of her pale, freckle dusted skin she always chooses vivid colors of scarlet and pink. She needn't try to be sexy; she is a lovely woman, with large breasts, a great bottom that swells out from a relatively trim waist, and good legs with firm thighs. The little protruding belly, tiny crows-feet around the mouth and eyes and the inevitable age lines on her neck are all upstaged by her cameo-like countenance in a frame of flaming, copper colored tresses. Though unaware, she has a naturally sensuous manner that promises hidden pleasures. In the vernacular of the uncouth she has that catch me, fuck me look. Waiting to begin my tour with the U.S. Navy I happened upon my mother committing, what I believe to be, the one indiscretion of her marriage. Entertaining a man, not my father, in the basement family room. I was enthralled with her naked beauty and the wanton passion of the scene. She became aware of my watching but made no attempt to cease her actions. We briefly acknowledged each other but never again spoke of the incident. After that she became my obsession and fantasy. I eventually realized I was in love with her. All that took place over two years ago and was seemingly forgotten until I invited my family to join me in Las Vegas upon my return from S.E. Asia. Because of other commitments neither my father nor my sister could make the trip leaving my mother and me on our own for four days at Caesar's Palace. Wine and will enabled me to woo her and she reluctantly submitted to me the first night. "Sir, more coffee?" The waitress asked, bumping me back to the present, "Sir?" "Wha . . .eh, no thanks, just the check please." Having two or three hours to kill and not being much of a gambler the casinos offered little interest; compounded by, what Bugsy might refer to as, a limited amount of dough. I finally settled for an afternoon movie down where the natives live. In the cool dark theater the adventures of Barbarella - soon to become Hanoi Jane - on some future planet were not enough to keep me from dozing. Time marches on, up come the lights and I'm joining the departing afternoon theater goers throwing themselves into the late afternoon oven that is Las Vegas. I started toward the corner in hopes of finding a taxi, not an easy task once you're removed from Fremont Street and the blossoming strip. Spotting a wine store, I acquired a bottle of pinot noir and two of Chablis. Returning to the street I nearly collided with a gentleman getting out of a taxi. If you live right . . . Back at Caesars, a quick trip to the Appian Way further armed me with a small bouquet featuring three red roses. As I stood, ready to knock, before the hotel room door I thought if Norman Rockwell were to paint me now he would have to call it "The Suitor". When the door opened my heart skipped a beat then started to race to make up for the loss. Before me stood the clichéd vision of loveliness; a beautiful mature woman in a simple emerald green dress that ended at her knee. The pale, well rounded calves of her legs tapered down to the white sandals displaying her scarlet toe nails. Pale, freckled arms extended from the short sleeves and ended in fingers also dipped in red. She threw back her head and laughed, her gorgeous red hair a gale around her face and her alabaster throat exposed as if offering it to Dracula. "Are you coming in or are you going to stand there looking like Andy Hardy picking up his prom date?" Standing frozen in the doorway, I finally regained my composure and pushed the bouquet forward as I stepped into the room. Taking the flowers, my mother leaned into me and placed her scarlet lips tenderly on my mouth. My free arm drew her to me and I felt the contact of her ample breasts against my chest. Interrupting the kiss, "Mother, you're very beautiful. Is it any wonder I'm in love?" I could feel her slightly protruding belly pushing against my abdomen making my cock lurch with the first rush of blood. My hand descended until I cupped the fleshy roundness of her ass. Breaking the embrace mother said, "Let me put these flowers in some water and you can set the bag on the desk unless you're going to carry it with you the rest of the day?" Crossing to the bathroom my mother's full bottom moved from side to side causing the pleated skirt of her dress to swish with each step. I was surprised to find myself sort of breathless and a little shaky; stepping to the desk I set down the three bottles of wine and dropped onto the chair. I noticed a paper bag from a drugstore on the desk and assumed I was not the only one out and about. Mother emerged from the bathroom carrying a water glass full of flowers. The swaying motion of the dress's fitted bodice was an indication that she was honoring my wish of no underwear. I started to ask about her shopping trip when a sudden flash of memory displaced the thought. "Und how vas your breakfast, frauline?" I queried, trying to sound like the Gestapo, "Und the delivery man, pleased with the gratuity?" "I hate to disappoint you, Max but SHE didn't seem to care what was in or out of my robe!" Grinning, "But the breakfast was good." She placed her flowers on the desk next to the wine and turned to face me. "Mother come closer I want to know if you're wearing panties." Stepping directly in front of my chair she slowly lifted the hem of her skirt until I was treated to the naked, copper hair covered pussy nestled between her firm white thighs. I motioned her closer; she dropped the skirt and reduced the space separating us to almost nothing. Still sitting I wrapped my arms around her hips and buried my face in the hollow beneath her belly. I could feel her heat through the material of the dress; my hands moved down to her calves and worked their way up under the dress to caress the soft, yielding flesh of her ass. The volume of the cheeks maintained the inverted apple shape but the water balloon consistency allowed a more swaying, jiggling motion and is infinitely more pleasing to manipulate. No hard-bodies for me! "I thought we were going somewhere," she said a little breathlessly. "If you keep this up we're doomed to spend the rest of the evening in bed." "Not a bad way to go, mom, but you're right. Sit down and we'll have a glass of wine then head down to Fremont Street, where it all started." An hour later we were enjoying the hustle and bustle of the downtown casinos. Watching people from all walks of life; young couples, maybe on their honeymoon; married couples taking turns watching the children while mommy or daddy goes inside to make their fortune; senior couples arguing about who's spending to much money or drinking to much and young singles, mostly male servicemen, dressed like civilians but betrayed by their haircuts. Mother and I joined worlds longest conga line as the crowd wound its' way in and out of the casinos, The Mint, Golden Nugget, Pioneer Club topped by Vegas Vick, Horseshoe and others. We held hands, kissed, laughed and hugged while we played the slots and black jack. Mother's Ultimate Submission Our most productive game was the crap tables with mom rolling the dice and me placing the bets. Shaking the dice set mother's large breasts in motion under her dress entertaining the other men at the table. Our eyes met to acknowledge each of us was aware of the ogling; then with a wicked smile she raised her arms over her head to shake the dice making her large, shimmying tits the main attraction. We left the table four hundred and twenty dollars to the good and mother insisted we split the winnings. I agreed, if, I could buy dinner; it was approaching eight o'clock and neither of us had eaten since breakfast. We slipped into the Second Street Grill, a casually elegant place and were seated in a round booth. We ordered drinks, a carafe of wine and lobster dinners. After her second drink my giggling mother asked, "Max, did you like the men looking at my titties?" Reaching under the table and moving her hand to my semi-erect penis I responded, "What do you think mother?" More giggles, "me too." We returned to our room about ten and upon entering I folded this beautiful creature into my arms. My lips nuzzled the side of her neck and her sweet perfume teased my nose. "I had a very nice time, mom. Maybe because it was with someone I love so deeply." She sighed, a contented sound and applied her body to mine like a coat of paint, pushing one leg between mine and straddling my thigh. She wound her arms around my neck. "I love you too, Max; you've made me into a new woman. One that enjoys being with you, making love with you. You've taught me to love my body and how to be sexy. I don't want this to ever, ever end; I want to go on making lov . . . FUCKING you forever, all day, every day!" Our lips engaged, each lover trying to devour the other. Her tongue traced the outline of my lips and then plunged into the depths of my mouth. I sucked on her probe hard enough to elicit a moan of pleasure or pain or both. My own tongue was busy exploring her mouth and my hands were everywhere, squeezing her tits, kneading her ass and running through the soft copper threads of her hair. Her hands pushed gently against my chest. "Max, let me get cleaned up first, OK?" We reluctantly separated and I suggested we have a glass of wine before she went into the bathroom. She sat on the bed. I poured, handed her a glass and sat in the chair by the desk. Earlier curiosity rekindled, I said, "See you were shopping this morning. What's in the bag?" "Oh, just some lady stuff, nail polish and lipstick, do you like?" She held her splayed, scarlet tipped fingers on each side of her face pointing to the full matching lips; almost a comic book scene featuring the cat woman. "Some tissues . . .," she stopped in mid-sentence as I extracted a small jar of Vaseline petroleum jelly from the bag. "And this?" I ask as we gazed at each other. The wan, freckled face flushed, adding another hue to the clashing reds of her hair and lips. She stuttered, the color deepening with each word, "I, I didn't know, I . . ." Enjoying her embarrassment, I smiled and cut her off by tossing her the jar. "Here you go," I grinned. "Mother I have to say it again, I love you!" I punctuated this by taking her hand, kissing it and briefly sucking her middle finger. With her face making an effort to over power the redness of her lips she finished her wine and announced she was going to clean up. Her eyes darted toward me as she placed the petroleum jelly, not on the desk, but on the nightstand. She gathered a few things from a drawer and disappeared into the bright, Romanesque bathroom closing the door behind her. I busied myself finding some big band music on the TV/radio and testing various lamps and wall switches for the best lighting effects. I finished the last of the pinot noir and opened a bottle of white. The ambiance, the earlier drinks, the wine and my mother's beauty created a very heady environment of love and lust. Both beds had been turned down. I placed the water glass of flowers on the nightstand beside the Vaseline. After about fifteen minutes I tapped on the door and ask, "More wine, mom?" The door opened about three inches and a slender forearm came forth with the hand blindly groping. After finding the offering, the arm withdrew and the door closed. She spoke no words. After another lapse of about ten minutes the door opened and she stepped into the room. She was totally restored. Her hair shone in the soft lighting I had achieved. The red lips and nails clashed with the hair but accented the healthy white skin. A jade colored chocker adorned her slender neck with a matching bracelet on her left arm. The dainty feet and pretty toes with the red nails were encased in the same white sandals. With a touch of irony, her only clothing was a pair of plain white cotton panties, snug enough to hint at a camel toe and a white cotton brassiere, allowing her large breasts to defy gravity. I had forbid her, on the second day of our visit, to wear undergarments but now the sight seemed to ooze sexual excitement. She did a pirouette to display the panties stretched across her plump backside. The full cheeks were a little too ample for the cotton garment causing the legs to ride up, leaving the outside bottom part of each cheek exposed. She turned to face me and with her hands on her hips and flashed me a defiant smirk. "How do you like my underwear, Max?" Her voice mocking, "Are you going to spank me because I disobeyed you?" "I might just do that," I returned. "I'll think it over while I get cleaned up. Have some more wine." Her ass jiggled and her tits bobbed, in the tight bra, as she made her way to the bathroom to retrieve her glass. I refilled both glasses; kissed my luscious mother lightly on the mouth and moved, glass in hand, to the recently vacated bathroom. I attended to my needs, bathed all my vital areas then refreshed the talc and after shave. Taking a final inventory, the mirror revealed a trim young man divided in half at the waist by a tan with a respectable semi-erect penis dangling between his legs. I draped a towel around my neck like a tennis player leaving the court and walked back in the room. Sitting on the far bed, drinking her wine, my mother studied the arc of my cock as it swung from side to side. She rose and moved toward me. "Shall we dance, my love?" She said, her open hand gesturing in the direction of the music. Her arms wound around my neck and as I drew her to me the bra encased breasts pressed firmly against my naked chest like twin stuffed animals. We swayed to the music, mom humming softly in my ear; my awakening penis alternately probing her soft belly and rubbing against her thighs. Moving my hands down to her undulating hips I urged her back enough to see her face. Her body continued to follow the rythum of the music, my own exotic dancer at arm's length. I was aware that her vulva was more swollen now adding prominence to the cotton clad camel toe. "Mother, you know I have to spank you for wearing underwear," I said in a soft but firm voice. "Oh yes, Max, I've been a bad mother; I didn't do as I was told," she replied, her voice quivering with excitement. "But let's dance a little more." This time our bodies meshed tightly together; trapping my raging cock between her thighs and squeezing it against the damp, puffy mound. We swayed together in a parody of dance while out bodies rubbed together like a stray cat rubs against your leg. We moved silently, our hands intimately mapping each other's bumps and curves. "Mother, don't move from this spot until I tell you it's alright," I whispered. "I'm going to take off your brassiere." That said, I extracted myself from the embrace and moved behind her. I stood very close, close enough for my extended manhood to push the white cotton of her panties into the cleft of that soft inverted heart. My hands trembled as they addressed the task of unhooking my mom's, industrial strength bra. The job completed I slid the straps off her shoulders and let the garment fall to the floor. Mother uttered a contented sigh as the large breasts settled to their natural resting place on her chest. I began to message and kiss away the angry indention lines on her back and shoulders. She stood very still, arms hanging at her sides. The subtle motion of her head tilting back caused the cloud of red hair engulf my face. The hair was soft and tickling and the scent of her perfume made me want to inhale the entire red cloud. The music continued to play softly in the background; the only other sound was ragged breathing. The strap marks were red and pronounced from holding up the heavy flesh. I continued working them with fingers and mouth until my route took me under each arm. I then moved around to confront the freckled, white globes themselves. Pinching the nipple between my thumb and forefinger I lifted each tit off her chest and addressed the marks left by the bra band and cups. "That feels sooo . . good!" She cooed, enjoying the mixture of pain from the pinched nipple and the soothing caress of my tongue and lips. . Our raspy, unsynchronized intakes of air seemed to escalate in both urgency and frequency. Mother's hands rose from her sides and settled on my shoulders. She applied a firm downward pressure with her arms, at the same time she adjusted her stance so that her red tipped feet were about 25 to 30 inches apart. "Please, Max." Sinking to my knees I put my lips against the white panties and exhaled hot moist air against her pussy lips. Her vulva was engorged with hot blood and the cotton was losing the battle of containment. With a stiffened tongue I forced the material between her slippery lips exposing the swollen outer folds where her thighs joined her body. My tongue traced the junction between her mons and each thigh, her legs shook and one knee threatened to buckle. "Mother, let's move to the bed," I said rising from the floor. She sat on the edge of the bed and leaned back on her elbows the large white tits slid to each side of her chest according to Newton's law of big boobs. I took the opportunity to drain my wine glass, stalling for time to retreat from the brink of my own climax. Then I walked toward the bed, Mother's eyes never left the hot shaft sweeping back and forth before me like a living dowsing rod. I knelt before her alter, hooked her panties and slid them over the plumpness of her ass which she happily raised to accommodate the process. Lifting each leg by the ankle I removed the underwear and placed her foot on the edge of the bed. Beads of moisture glistened in the soft, amber hair covering her labia; the outer lips were spongy cushions surrounding the blooming flower within. My mother's stomach was rapidly rising and falling in rhythm with her breathing. I traced tiny kisses and tongue flicks down each thigh starting at the knee and stopping just short of the begging pussy. Each time my mouth moved near her womanhood she raised her hips from the bed in anticipation, After a few teasing trips I sought the inner petals with long, light, wet strokes of my tongue. "Oh, god," issued in the throaty language comprised of half moan, half word. "Oh, my god!" I teased her with miserly strokes of my tongue and brief contact with her clitoris. Her body was squirming and pushing off the bed in an effort to force her pussy against my face. Becoming more aggressive I sucked one of her swollen lips into my mouth and chewed very lightly, eliciting more of the unintelligible throaty language. After paying homage to both the outer lips I drove my face into her wetness with my rigid tongue seeking the hot depth of her well. Her smooth warm thighs immediately closed around my head in an involuntary attempt to draw me deeper into her cunt. Nearly suffocating I plunged my tongue in and out of her pussy while massaging her clit between her pelvic bone and my mouth. My arms wrapped around those luscious thighs and my hands rubbed her soft belly, now wet with the sweat of arousal. She assaulted my mouth, bucking and grinding against my face as her climax drew near. I captured her clitoris in my mouth and sucked and licked it with ever increasing tempo. My whole face was wet, her juices and my own saliva literally dripping from my chin to land on the raised cheeks of her pretty ass. My hands could feel the first spasms of orgasm ripple through her belly as the muscles of her abs became rigid. Drawing in a deep breath of air, permeated with the heady scent of a woman, I buried my face against her mound. Legs locked across my back, fingers tugged at my hair and thrusting hips lifted us both off the bed! It was loud now and clear, "OH, MY G. . .GOD! Ahhh . . .Ahhh" She experienced four or five strong spasms against my face and then an easing in intensity until she allowed me to breathe again. As she lay back on the bed I gently lapped at her pussy and nipped at the lips; my mouth bathing the molested area. Working my way up to her knee and then down the inside of my mother's calf I arrived at her slim foot planted on the very edge of the bed, toes extended over the edge. I repositioned myself to a sitting position and began to make soft love to mom's ankles and feet. I tongue tickled her instep and the tops of her toes before drawing the second toe into my mouth and sucking it like a lollipop. A soft sigh of pleasure from above encouraged me to continue. I raised each foot and my tongue tracing the junction where the toes meet the sole Then starting with the piggy that cried wee wee all the way home and ending with the great toe I sucked all the toes on each foot. I kissed the bottom of each sole and moved up on the bed to lie beside my beautiful red haired mother. Our bodies' meshed, big bare tits mashed against my naked chest, my hands cupping warm pliant ass flesh and mother caressing my rock hard, oven hot cock; We kissed long, deep and loving. "I love you, Max," she said softly. "I'm the most woman I've ever been when I'm with you." "I love you too mom. I am in love with you," I said against her throat. "You're such and exciting woman, I long to thrill you and make you happy. I want to fill your life with orgasms. Does that sound silly?" "No, it sounds wonderful; I've already told you, I've never made love so much in so short a time in my life. I love what you do to me." Quickly slipping off the bed mother engulfed my aching penis in her sweet hot mouth her hanging tits brushing against my thighs. She is extremely adept at sucking cock leading me to speculate, momentarily, as to how she gained her experience. I was struggling with the choice of succumbing to the fantastic blowjob or to try to prolong the evening's excitement by providing a cooling off period. I lifting that beautiful face to my kiss I pulled her upright to her knees. My thighs clamped her naked body. "Mother, you still need spanked for wearing underwear after I forbid it!" "Yes, Max I know, please don't hurt me; I'll do whatever you say," she whimpered. "Get me another glass of wine." I said, more from the need to cool off than thirst. Mother padded across the room and returned, lovely body parts bouncing, jiggling and swaying in different directions; a sight not conducive to sexually cooling off. Still sitting on the bed, I swallowed a large draught of the wine and said, "Lets' get this over with. Lay across my lap, face down." She crawled onto the bed and positioned herself across my legs dragging her tits across my nakedness in the process. She rested on her elbows her bottom directly above my right thigh. The raging hardness of my manhood was throbbing against the softness of her protruding stomach. Reaching behind her back she found my left hand and guided it her breast. My right rested on the creamy white cheeks that lay in my lap. My hand lifts off the smooth bottom; a slight intake of breath, from my mother, in anticipation of what's about to happen. Smack! A clear, sharp crack like that of a whip then a pink hand print starts to appear on the wobbling buttocks. Crack! Crack! Crack! The blows are hard enough to smart but not hard enough to bruise. An almost soundless sob escapes with each stroke of my hand. My left hand is alternately mauling mom's tits, painfully pulling and twisting the nipples or pinching the flesh. "Max, honey, you're hurting me," her plea, on the verge of tears." I've been bad, very bad. I'm a bad mother, I know, but please don't hurt me." Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! "Please, Max, please. I shouldn't let you do things to me. No more spanking please!" The, now, freely flowing tears are real brought on more, I suspect, by another intrusion of guilt feelings than the pain. Crack! Crack! Her quivering ass has a rosy glow and small of her back is satiny with the dampness of excitement. My hand stops and gently caresses the reddened flesh. Her legs spread and I can see her wetness matting the pubic hair. Her body stiffens when my fingers enter her open vagina and a moan of pleasure mixes with the sobs. I know she is mine for another night, guilt feelings or not! "OK, you can stand up now, Mother." She stands dutifully before me. "What do you want me to do, Max?" She asked softly eyes averted and the tears still flowing, "I've let things get out of hand but I can't help it!" "Mom, didn't you buy me something this morning?" She looked toward the night table and the small jar of petroleum jelly residing there. "Yes, Max, I did," in a voice barely audible. "Is it time?" "Yes, Mother." She stepped to the table and picked up the jar. Her pink hued posterior swayed with the movement; my whole being focused on the two large globes and my penis lurched with anticipation. Hearing the turn of the lid, I stood; mother turned and approached me. Her hands shook with a small tremor and there was no longer need for verbal communication. She dropped to her knees in front of me and taking a large dollop of jelly from the jar she stroked it onto my warm cock. She pushed two fingers back into the jar then her hand disappeared far between her legs and into the cleft of her ass. Standing she plucked a tissue from the box on the nightstand and wiped her fingers. Stepping close, mother wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me passionately; our bodies trembled in unison, breath ragged. Silently she walked to the bed and lay across it face down, her legs over the edge from the knee down. The position caused the freckled white bottom to flatten and become wider: the cleft was shiny with the lubricant. Moving her legs apart I saw the steamy wetness of her juices covering the, still, engorged lips of her labia. I moved between her legs, placed a hand under each side and raised her hips. She assisted by bringing her knees onto the bed and raising her ass. The hot, well greased lance jutting from my lower belly was prodding the valley between the soft pliant mounds of flesh while I maintained a firm grip on her hips. The first probe went low and my shaft split the lips of her pussy, the next rode up the cleft emerging at the sweat covered small of her back while my testicles mashed against the bottom of her cheeks. Mother was breathing very rapidly; short, quick gasps . . . panting! Still silent, my mother reached beneath her stomach and guided my errant member to the small constricted button of her anus. As she held me in place I forced myself forward. The tight sphincter fought against the intrusion. I eased back slightly, mother still guiding me, and thrust forward. With one forceful jerk of my hips the well lubricated end of my penis breached the virgin opening and the little circle of muscle grudgingly tightened around my shaft just behind the head. Mother's Ultimate Submission "God, that hurts, I can't do this," burst forth from my mother's mouth. "Please, Max, you're too big, please take it out!" "Try to relax." I eased the end of my cock from her tunnel accompanied by a sigh of relief from the woman beneath me. Grunting, I drove it in again, deeper; the head and maybe an inch more. "Noooo, please it hurts," she whimpered. "I've never done this before, you're hurting me." I held very still noting the beads of sweat sharing space with the freckles on my mother's pale back. The swell of her full hips, near my abdomen, diminished to a narrow waist creating the damp valley of her spine. "Mother, hold still and try to relax. Feel the tingling in your belly. Think of my cock being in you where no one has ever been before. Mother, we're making love." I withdrew until all the remained was the head; mother relaxed noticeably. I waited, gently messaging her beautiful ass cheeks and fighting the urge to drive my cock home to the hilt! Slowly, I forced my cock deeper and deeper into my mother with long easy strokes. She was quieter now and started to rock on her knees in an effort help us toward our goal. Rivulets of sweat made their way down my chest and stomach and pooled in my pubic hair. Mother's wet body was gleaming in the lamplight. Her protests diminished to low moans originating from somewhere between pain and pleasure. "Mother, does that feel good?" I ask, "Do you love me? Do you like it?" "Yes, yes, yes, don't stop." Her hand moved under her belly to assist with her orgasm. The feverish motion of her fingers between my balls and her cunt urged me toward my own, emanate, climax. Her incredibly hot tunnel clung desperately to my erection as I withdrew until only the helmet remained, the tight ring just behind the ridge. Slowly, I plunged again to the hilt eliciting mother's groan of pleasure. With my hands guiding her hips I moved in and out, in and out in with ever increasing speed. Grunting with each thrust, I buried my penis until her ample cheeks were forced tightly against my stomach and my balls slapped, noisily, against the wet lips of her pussy. The tempo increased until I was literally slamming myself against her ass. My mother's fingers were working rapidly in the folds on her dripping labia and she rocked on her knees to meet each stroke of my rigid meat. "Yes, Max, yes, oooh yes!" She demanded, "Fuck me, fuck my ass!' The lava was starting to boil at the base of my cock, ants and butterflies cavorted in my stomach and an electric charge vibrated from my toes up through my throat. Taking a firm grip on her hips I threw myself against those slippery, white globes, impaling her on my cock and driving as deep as possible. One thrust, two thrusts, three thrusts and hold . . . grunting with effort, as I strained for maximum penetration. My balls draw tight and my stomach convulses as the first hot rope of semen erupts in mother's inner canal. "I can feel it," she gasps, pushing back. "I can feel you coming!" Another stream of seed spurts forth. I withdraw and slam into her again and hold; my tool jerking, throbbing and issuing its' last remnants of come in quick short volleys. My mother's knees give way and she falls forward on the bed. I collapse on top of her big ass my cock still deep inside. I cup the huge titties while I kiss the freckled, ivory, back; sodden with arousal sweat. Gently I resumed the fucking motion. "Mom, I want you to sit in my lap. We're going to roll over till I'm on my back then we'll sit up," I instructed. "I want to stay inside you the whole time, OK?" The maneuver worked like a choreographed dance step. I was sitting on the edge of the bed with mother in my lap still impaled on my cock. Her strong sphincter muscle gripping tightly around the base of my penis seemed to help in maintaining an erection. Reaching around her body I took mom's hands in mine and brought them between her splayed legs, rubbing them across the pelvic bone and onto the juice soaked lips of her vagina. She understood immediately and started masturbating herself. Sliding my hands under her ass cheeks I pulled them apart and mom squirmed her anus down against my groin taking in every bit of cock possible. As she brought herself to orgasm I played with her bouncing tits and belly. Kneading the soft fat of her protruding tummy I could feel the beginning of spasms contracting the muscles beneath. Abandoning her stomach I gripped the nipples and areolas of her breasts and milked the big flesh bags like the udders of a cow. The nipples were taut and puckered like large gumdrops and I pinched and twisted them in an effort to achieve the exquisite pain my mother seemed to enjoy. 'Now, Max, I'm coming," proclaimed a voice loud enough to reach the adjoining rooms. "Yes, now . . . oh yes!" Her legs extended, toes pointed like a ballet dancer and she reared back leaving me flat on my back with her straining, rigid, convulsing body on top of me. Sometime during the gyrations of her orgasm my softened penis receded from the tunnel of love. For some minutes we lay together like spoons with her on top of me; our faces side by side viewing the nothingness of the overhead, our fluids mingling. I nuzzled her ear and caressed her titties, which had slid off her chest and were trying to hide under her arms. "I love you, mom, very much," I spoke softly into the nape of her neck. "We are incredible together." "Why is that, max, why is everything so good with you? Why do I want to make love all the time when you're around?" There was a catch in her voice as passion waned and guilt washed in with the flotsam of society's misgivings. I rolled her off my body face down onto the bed. Noting that her magnificent buttocks were still slightly pink, I gave them another light slap and got to my feet. "Mummy," I said, light and cheerful. "Why don't we clean up a little and then we can talk. I'll go first." Jumping quickly in an out of the shower and brushing my teeth, I returned to the room and detected a darkening in my mother's mood. I sat on the bed, put my arm around her shoulders and kissed her cheek. "You're next." Donning a pair of clean, white, skivvies; I moved the flowers to the nightstand, adjacent to the unused bed. I placed one rose on mom's fresh pillow. The music was off and the only illumination was a small lamp on near the flowers. I lay down to wait for the love of my life, my best friend and my mother; the three (one) most cherished women in my life. She exited the bathroom, totally naked, and walked toward the bed. God, I loved to watch that buxom form move across the floor. It was obvious she had shed many of her inhibitions during our few days together. She enjoyed her body with the large breasts and shapely bottom and . . . she enjoyed men, enjoying her, but. . . the incest was heavy on her heart. As mother joined me on the bed her gardenia like perfume settled sweet and light around us. I could see the troubled clouds behind her eyes. Her copper hair fanned onto the pillow and her fresh scrubbed face, sans make up, was pale and angel-like. My heart cried out to comfort her troubled mind. "Mom, what we're doing may not be right but when two people are in love, so deeply in love, how can it be wrong? The last few days have been the most exciting in my life and I think the same is true for you." "Yes, Max, they have been," She said to the ceiling -- this morning's sparkling blue sky over the South China Sea. Rolling onto my side and propped on one elbow I looked down at my mother. I tried to explain, if not justify. "Mom, I think the excitement comes from many things; our natural mother/son love for each other, the forbidden fruit of you being married and being my mother, you're newly discovered sexuality and the mildly subservient way I treat you. Mostly, I think we are just plain in love, just a man and a woman in love with each other." I leaned down and we kissed tenderly. Reaching across her to the table lamp, I plunged us into the quiet darkness. In the darkened silence the long seconds ticked by. "Oh, . . . and those big tits of your's." "Max, you're terrible!" Laughing, she beat me with her pillow; the afore mentioned breasts slapping against my chest. I could feel a familiar stirring in my loins . . . tomorrow maybe, just one more time!