8 comments/ 162293 views/ 11 favorites Adult Disneyland By: Gavionn I arrived at the house at around 3:00 in the afternoon, and couldn't believe my eyes as I followed the long, curving drive into the courtyard. The place was absolutely immense, and I couldn't imagine how it was that we were staying there for the weekend. Mom had called me two weeks before to tell me that she had to come east for a weeklong conference about three hours from my home. She continued to tell me that an acquaintance of hers had offered her the use of his house for the weekend. "All of the domestic help will be on vacation, but he said I have free run of the place." "Domestic help?" I thought. "Who IS this guy, and how does he know my mom?" "Anyway," she continued. "I thought it might be fun if you could join me there for a couple of days." I didn't have to think long. My own family would be out of town that weekend, the beginning of a weeklong trip to the beach with another family. Work was keeping me home, but my weekend was free. "Sure." I said. "Where is this place?" She went on to give me direction and I realized that it was about halfway between her hotel and my house, so we could just meet there on Saturday. That Saturday morning, as I packed a small suitcase, a thought flitted across my conscious mind. How this scenario seemed like the set-up for one of my many fantasies about her over the years. I grinned to myself and chuckled a little bit, slightly embarrassed as always in the light of day at some of the debauchery my mind has created. Like most boys, I first started having sexual thoughts about my mom during adolescence, when my hormones were raging especially hard, and everything was about my newfound sexuality. Unlike many boys, I actually got up the nerve to act upon it. One night when I was about 15, my stepfather had his regular group of friends over, and I pulled Mom aside in the hallway. I told her about the recurring dream I'd been having where she led me from the house during one of these get-togethers and took me to a hotel where we..... "Well... you know." I grinned. She had been looking at me calmly and closely while I explained. After the above statement, she smiled slightly, but brightly and nodded her head. "So... can we?" I asked. And here is one of the things that makes my mom so great: she didn't freak out. She didn't slap me or call me a vile, nasty creature. She simply looked at me with her kind blue eyes and that small grin and shook her head slowly from side to side. "No, honey." She said softly. "I'm very flattered that you think of me that way, and I know that it's not uncommon for boys your age to have thoughts like this. But that is just something that you and I cannot do." Having realized ahead of time that it was a long shot, I was merely disappointed, rather than totally dejected. I climbed the stairs back up to my room, and went back to reading my book. It was a couple of days before I really thought about how lucky I was that the whole thing hadn't blown up in my face. Not that MY mom would've reacted badly ... I've always been able to talk to her about anything, but realizing how lucky I was to have the mom that I did, rather than one of my friends' moms. They would have no doubt ended up being punished horribly, and probably subjected to years of psychiatric counseling for merely expressing a taboo sexual impulse. Back then, my mom wore her dark hair to her shoulders, in a loose perm. At the time I didn't exactly leer at her, or become overly engrossed in her body, other than her full breasts and hips. There was just something about her, aside from being my mom that just hooked me and never quite let go. As I got older, I recognized her body more and more, but that'll come later. Something that used to happen from time to time was a type of massage my mother would give me. I was always doing crazy stuff and getting myself injured, so I was usually suffering from some sort of muscle pain. Rather than a traditional massage, this was more like an eastern "laying on of hands" type of thing. No oils or nudity were involved, and it rarely had sexual overtones, even for me. One day, after an hour or two of slowly stroking myself to a stack of porn magazines (this was in the pre-internet era), Mom called from downstairs and asked me if I wanted a "treatment" as we called them. She could always tell when I was particularly sore. She still can, actually. She says there's something in my face, in the way I hold my jaw or something, which tells her I'm hurting more than normal. After years of chronic pain, you learn to hide it from the world, because people get sick of hearing you whine about it all the time. But a Mom can always tell. I agreed to the treatment, and my lust-filled mind suddenly came up with an idea. I quickly found my favorite pictures in each of the magazines on my bed. All were of gorgeous, large-breasted brunettes in various states of dress and activity. I then folded the magazines over, with those pages up, and scattered them around my room in what I hoped was a haphazard-looking way. One was peaking out from under my dresser. One each at each side of the bed, almost under it. Another was partially covered by a pair of jeans on the floor. Looking back on it now, and seeing the level of subtlety that most 16 year old boys are capable of; I'm sure that what I thought was a creative way of showing Mom what I was thinking about, was actually a ham-fisted exercise in obviousness. When she entered the room ten minutes later in a thin white blouse with no bra beneath it, and white cotton pants, I was sitting up in bed reading a novel. She clapped her hands together and rubbed her palms quickly back and forth against each other to warm them. "Ready?" She smiled. "Yep." I replied, setting my book aside and flipping over onto my stomach. She started at my shoulders, and worked her way down. As I said before, this isn't your typical massage. Odd as it may sound, it's more about the idea of removing negative energy from one's body and helping them relax and heal than it is about manually kneading the muscles. Her light touch continued down my body. I was getting a little aroused just wondering if she had noticed any of the photos. I always had my eyes closed during these treatments, so I never knew if she closed hers in concentration as well, or if she was looking around the room as she worked on me. I knew if she saw them, she would instantly know why they were there, and the more I thought about it, the harder I got. My feet were hanging just off of the bed, toes pointing toward the floor. In order to work on my lower legs, she would kneel on the floor at the foot of the bed. This time, I noticed something distinctly different from any other. As she leaned in to reach up toward my knees, her breasts were coming in contact with the soles of my feet. I was sure it was incidental contact, but my cock didn't care. It was soon raging and throbbing against my belly so hard I thought for sure it was lifting me off the mattress a little bit. The only body parts that received more of a traditional massage were my hands and feet. These hold so many pressure points and carry so much of the body's tension; it is a wonderful release to have them firmly massaged. And this time, yet another new development occurred. Mom picked up both my feet at the same time and rested them on her chest. While she worked on one, the other was comfortably nestled between those two wonderful globes of soft, taut flesh – separated by only a thin layer of cotton. When it was time for me to turn over, I did so without hesitation. Yes, I was anxious for her to see my hard-on, and I knew the thin sweat pants I was wearing would do little to conceal it as it pushed insistently against the fabric. She couldn't have missed it, as both of her hands were within less than an inch of it for several minutes as she finished the treatment. Yet she said nothing. No gasp. No sigh. And surely no storming off in a huff. She knew as well as I did that it was perfectly natural under the circumstances. I was just hoping that it might give her a little thrill, or even get her wheels turning a little bit. It might have been a flight of fancy or over-active imagination, but when she left the room that day it sure looked to me as though her nipples were hard enough to cut glass. I had already had sex by this point, but soon after met the first of a string of girlfriends who taught me quite a lot about sex. On of whom openly admitted to having a huge crush on my mom. That little nugget of information made for some serious wank-time, I can tell you that. It wasn't until my early twenties that my lustful urges for my own mother brought me to verbalize anything again. By this time I was married (still am) to a wonderful, sexy woman with long dark hair and large gorgeous tits. One night I was home alone. I now had access to the internet and was just beginning to discover all of its wonderful free pornography. I was drinking beer, and softly stroking myself when the phone rang. Since we didn't have caller ID yet, I had no idea who was on the other end of the line. I almost didn't aswer, because I knew it was probably one of my wife's friends, and I usually prefer to let voice-mail handle the message-taking around here. For some reason, I picked up just before the answering machine kicked on. "Hi." Came the voice from the other end of the line. It's what she always says when I answer the phone. Always with the same inflection, and tone. Happy to hear my voice, glad to have caught me at home. I resisted the urge to say: "I was just thinking about you." And we talked about generalities for a little while. Finally she asked me why I was up so late. "Just surfin' the net." I responded. "Oh, yeah?" She asked. "What're you doing?" "What the hell." I thought. I was more than a little buzzed, and SUPER horny. Stroking my dick to a fantasy-picture of my mom while talking to her on the phone was making me hornier than I'd been in months. "Looking at pictures right now." I answered as casually as I could. "Oh, yeah? What of?" She asked. "Well.... Remember when I was like fifteen and I tried to get you to take me to a hotel?" I asked. There was a brief pause on the line. From 3000 miles away she took in what I had said. She recovered quickly, but responded slowly. "Y-e-e-e-s". "Well..... That's what I'm thinking about while I look at these pictures." Another pause, this time a little bit longer. "Oh..... Well, I think you might be a little disappointed in the reality compared to the fantasy these days." She said, obviously alluding to the passage of time and it's effect on her body. "I don't think so." I responded quickly. "One of my favorite things about all of my fantasies is that I try to keep them as realistic as possible. You have aged in my fantasies just as you have in real life." Another pause, this one even longer than the last. I just kept stroking, imagining her getting turned on, but not sure what to do about it. Was my step-dad sitting right next to her? Was she flashing back to any thoughts she might have had about my 16 year-old erection during that treatment years ago? Was she considering admitting to similar fantasies lo these many years? "Well, I guess that's smart." Was all she said. "Yeah." I agreed. "This way, I'm never disappointed by the real thing." We stayed on the phone for a while after that, but she must have deftly changed the subject. Since that night, any implication of my continuing fantasies has been limited to an occasional late night phone call. On those rare occasions when I'm home alone late at night, buzzed and fantasizing about her, I will sometimes call her cell phone while standing directly in front of the TV as a particularly hot sex scene plays on DVD. I will then casually leave a message, hoping that the moans and cries of "Yeah..... fuck me." Will carry across the ether and into her subconscious as she listens to my words. The last time I did it was the first time I've orgasmed, and I came in huge streaming spurts all over the carpet of my bedroom. It was one of the best orgasms I've had in years. The volume on the TV was up really loud, and the scene was of a beautiful brunette being righteously fucked by two guys with large, perfect cocks. She was enjoying herself immensely and was being very vocal about it. I tried to keep my voice steady and normal throughout my message, but is that really possible while having a mind-numbing orgasm? I have wondered several times since if she knows that I was coming during the end of that message. I suspect that she does. She called me at work the next day, casual as anything. She said that when she got my message, she didn't know if it was too late to call me back. She claimed that her cell phone doesn't tell her what time a message came through. This is 2006.... Is there such a thing as a cell phone that takes photos, video and email (as hers does) yet fails to time-stamp it's voice mail messages or incoming calls? If so, I haven't seen it. And if not.... She was fibbing. And if she was fibbing, I want to know why, because I can only see the reason for that fib boding well for me. I honked the horn twice quickly as I shut of the engine, then reached into the back seat and grabbed my duffel bag before climbing out of the car and heading for the door. The steps to the front door reminded my of the steps to a museum. Maybe the Art Museum in Philadelphia, the ones Rocky ran up during that famous scene. Not quite that huge or tall, but easily the biggest set of residential steps I've ever seen. When I was about 5 steps from the top, the latch clicked in the front door and it swung slowly inward. The bright sun of the summer afternoon made it hard for me to see inside the foyer, but I could clearly see the silhouette of a person in the doorway. A split-second later, she emerged into the sunshine with a huge smile crinkling the skin around her bright blue eyes. Long gone are the shoulder length curls, replaced by a low maintenance close-cropped hairdo. But rather than the heavy, oversized shirts and understated trousers I've come to expect from her over the last few years; she was wearing (if I wasn't mistaken) the same white cotton outfit she used to wear for my treatments. The only addition being a pair of high-heeled sandals. I was now 35 years old, and she in her late 50's, but the sight of that outfit immediately sent my mind into overdrive. I felt my cock swiftly engorging with blood, running its usual course up toward my belly button. In her left hand she held a large glass of white wine. In her right, a freshly opened bottle of beer. The latter she extended toward me and said: "Welcome to Adult Disneyland." ~to be continued~ Adult Disneyland Ch. 02 Author's note: Sincerest apologies to the readers of "Adult Disneyland" who were frustrated by its truncated form. During its initial posting on Literotica, I had intended to continue the tale within days. As so often happens, life got in the way and prohibited me from continuing it until now. I hope the latest installment garners the same reviews as the last... without the complaints. Either way, thanks SO much for reading my work! Your criticisms are always on-target. Adult Disneyland II I set my bag down inside the door and took the beer from her outstretched hand. It was ice cold, and really hit the spot after 3 hours on the road. When I turned to face her, I noticed a twinkle in her eye that I had never seen there before. And there was also a new tilt to the grin lighting up her face. Thankfully, I was still wearing my sunglasses, so a close look at her chest was possible without seeming leery. My initial assessment was on-target. If this wasn't the same outfit from back then, it was an exact replica. And the tension her nipples were exerting on the thin white fabric of her shirt could never be attributed to the air conditioning. While it was very comfortable inside that huge house, she had accomplished the temperature by opening windows and closing blinds. The AC wasn't even running. My cock stiffened further. Mom raised her wine glass toward me for a toast. I clinked my bottle against it, as she murmured: "Let me show you around." And she did. I followed her through the entire house. We looked into each of the 8 bedrooms and visited all 6 of the bathrooms. She showed me the kitchen, the mud room and the wine cellar, where she grabbed another bottle of Sauvignon Blanc to add to the fridge behind the bar. I wore my sunglasses the entire time we were touring the house. As she was pointing out to me the features of the Jacuzzi tub in bathroom number 3, I was verifying my suspicion that she wasn't wearing any panties. The twin globes of her ass were creating the most amazing display of tension on the material of her pants as she slowly climbed the stairs to the second floor, I don't think I heard a single word as she described the crystal chandelier dangling above us. By the time we had completed the tour, my beer was empty and my dick was ready to explode. She showed me to the bar, and pointed out the sub-zero refrigerator that held a nightclub's-worth of quality brews. As she reached into the drawer next to the fridge from behind me, I felt her breasts against my back. And the heel of her hand clearly ran the length of my stiff cock as she retrieved the bottle opener. Yet she remained stoic as to the tension of the situation. So I tried to play it cool. She refilled her glass from the already-opened bottle in the wine fridge and gently placed the bottle she had retrieved from the cellar beside it when she was done. "Let's go out on the deck." She said, heading toward the French doors off the kitchen. It was at this point that I began to suspect that she was seeing how far she could push me before I would make the first move. It was becoming like a game of cat and mouse. Who would be the first to expose the taboo? Her choice of attire, and the way she was walking in those 4" sandals was too erotic to accurately describe. If you can remember Jessica Rabbit in the animated/live action film "Who Framed Roger Rabbit?" – you might understand what I mean. The animators of that film were able to make a cartoon sexy. Actually SEXY. And Mom had a similar aura about her as she swung her hips toward the deck. She wasn't doing anything overtly sexual, but it was by far the most sensuous thing I had ever seen up to that point. Boy was I in for more... but I digress. We made ourselves comfortable on matching chaise lounges on the deck overlooking the bay, and as I lit a cigarette I noticed her openly staring at my crotch. I was wearing my most comfortable pair of shorts that day. I almost always put them on if I'm driving long distance in the summer. And I rarely wear underwear when I'm wearing that particular pair of shorts. For two reasons; I only wear them when it's especially warm, AND I happen to like the way the thin fabric outlines my cock for anyone who cares to notice. And my, oh my... was she noticing. Not that she would have needed to scrutinize very closely... my dick was so hard by this point that it was very nearly clearing the waistband of said shorts. But having her so openly looking at it only served to turn me on more. As I raised my second bottle of beer to my lips to take the first sip from it, her right hand quickly slid up her ribs and gently cupped her right breast. As I slowly swallowed that first sip, her index finger and thumb began to gently tweak and tease the nipple of that gorgeous breast. She never took her eyes off my dick as she did this, and after a couple of seconds a soft moan emanated from her throat. "Take it out." She said quietly. "What?" I asked, a little taken aback by her sudden brashness. "Your dick... I want to see it." She breathed, pulling on her nipple a bit harder. "Unzip your shorts and show it to me." Suddenly I was nervous. My biggest fantasy had come to life and I didn't know what to do. "What do you mean, Mom?" I stuttered. "I can't just..." "Oh, shut the hell up." She retorted. "You've been waiting twenty years for me to get up the courage for this moment. Stop playing innocent and show me your cock." I couldn't react quickly enough after that. I unbuttoned my shorts, threw down the zipper and leaned back as I opened my fly to expose my throbbing hard-on. I didn't move for a few seconds, so she could see it hopping as the blood coursed through it. "Even nicer than I remember it." She purred, after a soft moan and tug on her nipple. "You DO remember the last time I was this close to your cock, don't you?" "Yeah." I said, breathlessly. She was now slowly raising her shirt, exposing first the lily-white skin of her tummy, and then letting the fabric catch on the swollen underside of her breasts. She then grabbed the waistband of her pants and pulled them up to accentuate the swollen mound of her pussy. "God... I'm so fuckin' horny." She purred. "Stand up, and drop your shorts." Of course I did so. What would you do? "Come over here." She said, removing her shirt to expose the breasts that I had been dreaming about for so long. I did as she asked... I walked over to her chair with my cock leading the way. She laid there looking at me as I approached, and her right hand suddenly slipped down her stomach and into her pants. I could see her fingers moving through the fabric, parting her pussy lips and finally sliding inside. "Oh... damn." She moaned. "I'm so fuckin' WET! You made me all wet, baby. The way you look at me... and that hard fuckin' cock... SO fuckin' wet!" Looking down on her heaving chest and the activity of the hand she had buried in her crotch, I could resist. I began to stroke my cock as it hovered over her face. "Oh... fuck, yeah." She moaned. "Stroke that fuckin' dick, honey." I hadn't heard my Mom say the word fuck so many times in 10 seconds before in my life. And I surely never thought that I was going to see her with 2 fingers in her pussy and her tits out, begging me to jerk-off in front of her, but damnit... I had never been so turned on in my life. So I did exactly as she asked. I even took it one step further, removing my shirt so that I was completely naked as I stood over her with my dick in my fist. She noticed that my gaze was focused on the activity in her pants now that her shirt was off. "Do you want to see my pussy?" She moaned, arching her back to allow a third finger in. "Oh. Hell, yeah." I murmered, still stroking my dick inches above her face. So she lifted her hips off of the chaise and slid those marvelous cotton pants out of the way to expose her completely hairless pussy. She then spread her outer lips to expose the soft pinkness of her most tender region. "I've never shaved before." She said. "I've been hoping that you would like it." I almost came right then, stroking myself as I was and looking down on what had been only a dream for nearly 20 years. Without saying a word, I buried my face in her freshly-shaven pussy. I just dove down onto the chaise and used both hands to gently open her up. I kissed and licked every square inch of her. I gently kissed her labia and shoved my stiff tongue as deep into her ass as I could. And she loved every second of it. I think if I were still going at it, she'd still be begging for more. But eventually she told me to stop. "I want your cock in my mouth." She said after a particularly intense orgasm. As she was still lying on her back on the chaise, I stood and straddled it so I could smack her in the face with my dick. I did so over, and over again. I'm not sure why... but doing so seemed to turn us both on even more. I eventually placed the head of my dick before her waiting mouth, and at first she just grasped it firmly in her fist and kissed it all over. Moaning as she did so, it was one of the sexiest things I've ever experienced in person. After a couple of minutes, she squeezed my dick at the base and said: "That's a pretty fuckin' cock." And then she took me in her mouth-- all the way to the balls. I've only had 2 girls in my life who could do that, and NEVER without warming up first. She also talked to me the entire time, pulling her mouth off and stroking me while she told me about what we were going to do when she was finished. We were both totally naked by this point, and I just couldn't take the sight of her finger-fucking herself any longer. That wet pussy was just too inviting. So I pulled out of her mouth with a 'pop' (sign of a quality bj) and told HER to stand up. At first she looked surprised, but immediately her expression turned to that of desire and she allowed me to position her as I wanted. I turned her around and had her kneel on the chaise facing the house. I pulled up on her hips so she knew to stick that big, beautiful ass up in the air. And as I entered her from behind, we were both able to watch our reflection in the floor to ceiling windows of the house. As her tight pussy tugged on my stiff cock, we were both able to watch and feel as I reached around and gently cupped her left breast in my palm. As I slowly increased the tempo of our coupling, we both felt and watched as I gently flicked her nipple. And we both got to see her face as she orgasmed for the 3rd time that afternoon. After seeing that, and feeling the results of it... I wasn't able to hold out much longer. "I'm gonna cum..." I groaned as I continued to pound away. "Oh... fuck, yeah..." She said, flipping over and lifting up her tits. "Cum on me... cum on my face... cum on my tits... I don't care. Just fuckin' cum on me!" And I did. I showered her face and tits with my spunk. I can't remember ever having come so hard, or so long, or so much at one time. And she loved every second of it. Every spurt that hit her lips was gobbled up. And the rest of my load was slowly caressed into her skin for 10 minutes after I was done. I slid my dick between those beautiful tits for a couple minutes before laying down on the deck beside her chaise. "Mmmmm." She groaned, licking my cum off of her fingers. "I can't wait for you to meet Gina and Joey." "What?" I asked... barely even realizing we were talking. I had my head on her tummy and was playing with her nipples... amazed by the turn my life had taken. "Gina and Joey,." She said, stroking my hair. "They'll be here tomorrow. I have pictures for you. Would you like to see them? They're hot as hell." "Yeah," I decided, thinking of my remaining fantasies. "I want to see the pictures." "Good," She purred, kissing my forehead and petting my dick. "Because you've barely scratched the surface of Adult Disneyland."