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Mother Initiates Son to Manhood Ch. 01

By: SusanJillParker



Paul confesses the only thing he wants for his 18th birthday to his mother.

"Happy Birthday, Paul," said Ashley kissing her son on the lips.

There was nothing wrong with a mother kissing her son. Just a kiss, Ashley always kissed her son. In the course of a day, a week, a month, or a year, she couldn't count how many times she's kissed Paul and he's kissed her. They were close, real close.

For those twisted degenerates who are jealous of their loving relationship and would make something more out of a mother kissing her son, her kiss didn't mean anything other than a simple sign of affection between a mother and a son. How dare you even think that there was anything going on between this loving mother and her adoring son? Get your mind out of the gutter and take a minute to not only smell the roses but also see the rainbows. Life doesn't have to be only about sex, debauchery, and incest, does it? Well, it does in this story (lol).

With this, his 18th birthday, he was officially a man who now has the right to vote, to sign legal documents, to apply for a credit card, and to kiss his mother on the lips. Perhaps with her caught up in the exuberance of him becoming a man, if there was any inappropriate, sexual transgression at all, perhaps her kiss was a tad longer than what was appropriate but this was his special day. Today was Paul's birthday. Moreover, this was his mother and he loved her as much as she loved him.

"Happy Birthday Paul. I love you," said Ashley kissing her son on the lips again.

When some sons would never kiss their mothers on the lips and would only feel comfortable kissing them on the cheek, Paul not only always welcomed his mother's motherly affection but also he always welcomed her kissed. He loved kissing his mother and seemingly, she loved kissing him. He looked forward to feeling her lip gloss coated, creamy lips on his lips. Only, over the years, what normally was just an appropriate peck on the lips grew longer. With today his special day, his birthday, her kiss grew even longer when Paul wrapped an arm around her slim waist, pulled her to him, and kissed her more passionately than he's ever kissed her before. 

With his quickly emerging erection pushing against her soft belly, their kiss suddenly turned more sexual. Kissing her without probing her mouth with his tongue, he kissed her as if she was his girlfriend instead of his mother. Something he's wanted to do since forever, shocking even himself for taking advantage of his mother's kiss and making her affection more sexual by him getting an erection, even he couldn't believe that he kissed his mother in such an inappropriate way. More than that, perhaps as surprised as he was that he kissed her in such a way, he couldn't believe his mother didn't pull away from him.

Seemingly, unless he imagined it, she was enjoyed kissing him as much as he enjoyed kissing her. Something that's never happened before but for one time when they kissed after church, in of all places, the church parking lot, he enjoyed his kiss as much as she seemed to enjoy her kiss. Seemingly, she wanted to kiss him as much as he wanted to kiss her.

Truth be told, when alone in his room or in the bathroom, something he's imagined while masturbating over the imagined images of his mother, something he couldn't even imagine, her nightshirt clad body felt so good against his pajama clad body. She always wore a thin, light shirt to bed over her lacy bras and lacy panties. In the way that Lucille Ball, Donna Reed, and June Cleaver retired to bed wearing their bras and panties, his mother was modestly, old fashioned in that way too.

Sometimes she slept in her light shirt and just panties and no bra. Sometimes, a rare thing, perhaps when she was hot during the night, she just slept in her panties. With his mother's bedroom door always ajar for better air circulation, whenever going to bed late or waking up early, taking a detour to slowly walk by her room, he always peeked in to watch her sleeping. If only for him to have something to masturbate over later, he always looked to see what she wore to bed and what he could see of her. Sometimes when he was lucky, after she kicked off her covers, he got a darkened peek of her panty.

A sure sign that he was sexually attracted to his mother, a gross understatement, as soon as he pulled her to him and kissed her, in the way he'd kiss a woman who wasn't his mother, he had an erection that pressed against her soft belly. With the sensation of holding his mother in his arms while kissing her feeling so wonderful, he wondered if she could feel his cock hardening against her. With him imagining screwing her, it felt good to stealthily rub the head of his hardening cock against her tummy. With his long fingers poised on the top of her buttocks, his fingers traced the top elastic of her panty. He'd give anything to lower her panties with his teeth. As if he was her husband instead of her son, he was ready to move his hand down to grope her panty clad ass through her thin nightshirt.

Perhaps sensing the emerging sexual horniness of her son, his mother abruptly put a stop to his private, sexual moment with him rubbing his cock against her body. Then, when the tip of his tongue momentarily touched the tip of her tongue, she broke off his kiss when he tried to part her lips with his tongue. As if he had put his tongue in a sexual socket and electrocuted himself, dizzy with sexual delight, even he couldn't believe he had just tried to French kiss his mother while holding his mother in his arms. Even he couldn't believe how good it felt to touch her tongue with his. Even he couldn't believe how unbelievable it felt to slowly rub his erection up against her.

With his tongue touching her tongue lasting only a moment, that brief French kissing encounter was enough for him to imagine what it would be like to kiss her, really kiss her, and to French kiss her. He couldn't wait to return to his room to masturbate over the imagined thoughts of French kissing his mother. He couldn't wait to masturbate over the thoughts of touching her, feeling her, and fondling her while kissing her. With him making his move and now making his incestuous, sexual intentions known to her, he showed her his cards and now it was her turn to play or fold.

"I never thought this birthday would come," he said quickly changing the subject while feeling awkwardly uncomfortable that she broke off their kiss and gently pushed him away when he tried to French kiss her.

He was still reeling from the sexual excitement of trying to French kiss his mother. Something he's always thought about doing, as if it was an involuntarily movement, slipping her his tongue just happened. Now, when he looked at her, all he could see was her lips. Now, when she opened her mouth to speak, all he could see was her tongue. Perhaps with him coming of age, a man now, it was then that he sexually wanted his mother in the way that he never wanted her before.

Immediately erasing it from his mind whenever he thought of her rejecting his advances with him trying to French kiss her, more than her rejecting his advances, she rejected him. Obviously, she didn't want him in the way that he wanted her. Obviously, he was out of his mind with incestuous, sexual lust for his mother. Obviously, other than him being a testosterone filled horny, young man, there was really something wrong with him for him to try to French kiss his mother. Obviously, there was something seriously wrong with him for him to want to have sex with his mother. Only, with his sexual feelings for his mother never changing, other than burning more brightly than they ever did before, he's always wanted to have sex with his mother.

With his arm still around her, with her not pulling away from him, and with him standing so close to her that he could feel her heart beating, he looked down at her. Then, when she resisted him and gently pushed him away, the top of her partially unbuttoned nightshirt opened wide enough and long enough for him to see what he should never see of his mother and what he's always hoped to see of her beautiful body. At the right place, at the right time, he had a clear, down her nightshirt view of the tops of her beautiful breasts, her long line of sexy cleavage, and her beautiful, lacy bra. He felt his cock twinge and throb its sexual approval in appreciation of the sexy view she had given him. As soon as his cock stiffened, hoping she did, he wondered if she felt his cock throb against her too.

With her always wearing lacy underthings, sexy bras and sexy panties, he loved his mother's feminine underwear. Regularly going through her lingerie whenever she wasn't home, he loved sniffing her dirty panties and feeling her worn bras. Nothing sexual there, his friends' mothers wore plain white bras and while granny panties but not his mother. His mother dressed more like a Victoria's Secret model than she did his respectable mother. He'd give anything for his mother to model her underwear.

"Paul, I bought some new panties and bras. May I model them for you," he imagined her saying while he masturbated himself.

When he looked down at her, with her no doubt knowing that she had just flashed her son a peek of the tops of her bra clad breasts and her long, line of sexy cleavage, she looked up at him as if asking him if he liked what he saw. Was she teasing him? Was she playing him? He wondered if this was her sexy game to play. He wondered if she lusted over wanting to have sex with him as much as he lusted over wanting to have sex with her.

With his erect cock still impaling her soft belly, she took a step back to stare down at his pajama clad erection in the way that he had stared at her nightgown clad breasts. Only, not ogling him in the way that he ogled her, with him always staring longer and harder, she was more subtle about her looking at his pajama clad erection. A bold and unexpected move, with him making the first move in kissing her longer and trying to part her lips with his tongue, he expected her to make the next move by opening her mouth to return his passion by accepting his tongue inside. When she didn't and with him not as sexually experience as his mother, he didn't know what else to do. Embarrassing himself, he felt as if he failed in seducing her.

What was he supposed to do now after his mother rejected his French kiss and seeming rejected him as her incestuous lover? The one woman that he loved so very much, his whole world was crushed. Barely a man, he was just an 18-year-old boy and she was his mother of all people. With her doing the right thing by not allowing him to part her lips and in gently albeit forcefully pushing him away after he lost his mind to his hormones by trying to French kiss her, it was up to her to take control of this situation before it erupted into more. Only, what Paul thought was her rejection, perhaps was her needing a minute to realize what had just happened before taking the step of no return across the imaginary line of mother and son incestuous sex.

Because she's so sexy and because he's so in love with his mother, with his judgment twistedly impaired, he wondered if maybe all of this time he had been misreading her loving signals as sexual. Maybe all of this time she wasn't giving him sexual signals at all. Maybe all of this time she was just giving him the affection and attention that any mother would give her adult son. Maybe all of this time he was wrong about her in thinking that she sexually wanted him as much as he sexually wanted her. With her always kissing him on the lips and with him suddenly thinking that her signals were signs that she sexually wanted him, maybe because he's so crazy horny for his mother, he's imagining what's not there.

Now what? After he played his cards and lost, what does he do now? He felt so stupid. He felt so perversely perverted. He just wanted to run in his room and hide. Not knowing what else to do, he felt as if he had crashed the family car or lost the family dog by trying to take sexual advantage of his mother. What's wrong with him? How could he do such a thing? How can he possibly repair the great mother and son relationship they had before he lost his mind to incest?

* * * * *

Normally she wears a robe over her nightshirt but this morning, strangely enough, as if sexually teasing him and incestuously enticing him, perhaps in honor of his 18th birthday, she wasn't wearing a robe. Curiously odd that she wasn't wearing a robe, he only wished she was wearing one of her sheer, nearly transparent, nightgowns without a robe that he routinely imagined her wearing while masturbating over the imagined image of her. Only, even though she has a drawer full of sexy nightgowns, she never wears a nightgown. Not nearly as sexy as one of her nearly transparent nightgowns, perhaps she always wears her thin, short nightshirts instead.

This morning however, she wore her short, partially unbuttoned, light blue, cotton nightshirt. With her wearing her nightshirt without the modesty of a robe, her nightshirt clung to her shapely body like Saran wrap caressing a dinner plate. Every shapely curve of her was highlighted by her clinging nightshirt. Every time he saw her in her nightshirt, he imagined how sexy she'd look wearing one of his partially unbuttoned shirts. Maybe a throwback to the movies of the sixties when women donned their lovers' shirts after making love to them, she felt sexier wearing a nightshirt more than she would wearing a nightgown.

With her dark hair and dark eyes complimenting and contrasting the light color of her nightshirt, she looked like a Greek Goddess. If only she wasn't his mother, there'd be little wrong with a young man lusting over an older woman. As if she was standing there topless, the tight, thin material of her nightshirt caressed her bra clad breasts in the way he wished he could with his horny hands. In the way he had imagined seeing her in her sexy nightshirt so often when masturbating himself, instead of merely imagining it, he could discern the entire bulbous shape of her 36C breasts. As if she was deliberately teasing him by showing him more of her beautiful body than he's ever see of her before, there was just a thin piece of material between her shapely underwear clad body, between his horny hands, and between his pajama clad cock. A good time to play strip poker with her, she was only wearing three articles of clothes, her nightshirt, panty, and her bra.

Making sexual matters even more frustrating, normally, he wears underwear beneath his pajamas but this morning, for some unbeknownst reason, he didn't. With him not wearing underwear beneath his pajama bottoms, he felt wickedly sexual. Normally, his mother wears a bathrobe over her nightshirt but this morning, for some unbeknownst reason, she didn't. Actually, with them both inappropriately attired, they were a mother and son incestuous situation waiting to happen.

With his sister away at college and his Dad piloting the friendly skies somewhere over the west coast, he was alone with his mother on the east coast. As if his secret sexual desire had finally come true on his birthday, as his birthday wish, this was his chance to seduce his mother. At the very least, this was his chance to hopefully make out with his mother. An opportunity that he may never have again, this was his chance to touch her, to feel her, to grope her, and to fondle her sexy nightshirt clad body while kissing and kissing her. Only, with her already rejecting his French kiss, he was at a loss as to what to do now.

"With this your special day, with you having already opened your birthday gifts last night, and having already blown out the candles of your birthday cake to make your wish," she said while pausing to make eye contact with him. She gave him a smile that lit up her whole face. She always looked so very much prettier when she smiled. "What would you like to do today?"

* * * * *

What would he like to do today? Are you kidding me? Boy was that ever a loaded question. His brain was afire with all the sexual things that he'd love to do with his mother. He so wanted to blurt out all that he wanted to do with her today. He wanted to kiss his mother, really kiss his mother, French kiss his mother, and make out with his mother. Without all of the pretenses that they were mother and son getting in the way of their kissing, touching feeling, groping, fondling, and hugging, he wanted to strip her naked while she stripped him naked.

What he wanted to do for his birthday was to touch and feel her everywhere while making out with her before having sex with his mother. He wanted her to touch his cock, to hold his cock, and to stroke his cock. He wanted her to suck his cock after he licked her pussy and made sweet love to her before fucking her. Just because she was his mother didn't stop him from sexually wanting her. Just because she was his mother didn't stop him from trying to seduce her to make his sexual fantasy his sexual reality.

Something that mothers were good at doing, ignoring the bad behavior of their precious sons, seemingly, she ignored that he had just tried to French kiss her. He wondered what she was thinking after he tried parting her lips with his tongue. Only and obviously, sticking straight out as if it was his spear of love, the elephant in the room still remained when he developed an erection that tented his pajama bottoms. Then, when her nipples hardened enough for him to see them through her bra and through her nightshirt that she had big nipples, he wondered if she was a sexually aroused as he was.

As if it was a mirror image, the stiffness of his cock reflected the sexual desire that he had for his mother in the way that the erectness of her nipples showed the sexual desire she had for her son. In the way that he was glancing down at her big tits, he caught her glancing down at his engorged prick more than once. If only she would show him what she was thinking, he'd show her what he was thinking too. Being that sex takes two to play, one can't play without the other and right now, after she thwarted his sexual advances in wanting to French kiss her, it was a standoff with neither one wanting to make the first move.

With his father never home and always flying passengers across the country, maybe she's just as horny and sexually frustrated as he is. A sexual fantasy that he routinely had when masturbating himself, he'd like to think that she wanted him as much as he wanted her. With those sexual thoughts in mind, not ready to take no for an answer, he persisted in his need to bed his mother. If only seeing how far he could go with her and how much he could get away with, and if nothing more than fodder for his masturbation session later, he made his sexual desire for her clear. 

Only, careful in how he approached her, as if she was rigged with explosives and in the curvaceousness of her sexy body, she was wired and ready to explode his brain with sexual desire. He wondered what she'd do if he reached out and touched and felt her breast. He'd like nothing more than to cup her bra clad breast in his hand while French kissing her. Would she allow him to touch her and feel her or would she push him away again in the way that she did when he tried to French kiss her?

Taking his sexual seduction a step further, he wondered what she'd do if he reached out and fingered the obvious erect impression of her nipples through her nightshirt and through her bra. Would she allow him to feel her breasts while fingering her nipples nor would she slap his hand away? With his mother having beautiful C cup breasts, he's always been enamored with his mother's tits. What did he want to do for his birthday? He love nothing more than to feel her breasts, finger her nipples, see her tits, and suck her tits.


Mother Initiates Son to Manhood Ch. 01



He wondered what she'd do if he reached around behind her to feel, fondle, and squeeze her panty clad ass through her nightshirt in the way he's seen his father do so very many times. Would she allow him to have his sexy way with her ass or would she swat his hand away? With his mother having such a round, firm, sexy ass, as much as he'd love to feel her tits, he'd love to feel her ass too. What would he like to do for his birthday? He'd love to make out with his mother while feeling her bra clad breasts and panty clad ass through her nightshirt while French kissing her.

He wondered what she'd do if he grabbed her wrist and put her hand on his cock. He'd love nothing more than for her to feel his pajama clad erection. He wondered if she'd touch him in the way that he'd love for her to touch him. He wondered if she'd reach her hand inside his pajama and pull out his cock. If she did pull out his cock, he wondered if she'd stroke him. If she stroked him, he wondered if she'd fall to her knees to suck him before fucking him or would she slap his face and ask him to leave her house? He'd love nothing more than to look down at his mother looking up at him with her big green eyes and with his hard, hairy cock buried in her beautiful mouth.

"Happy Birthday Paul," he imagined his mother removing his cock from her mouth long enough to wish him a happy birthday as she blew him.

* * * * *

"I told you already what I wanted for my birthday," he said baiting her while staring at the sudden, even bigger impressions her nipples made though the thin, shiny material of her nightshirt.

Damn, she has such big nipples. If only she'd kiss him, really kiss him, French kiss him, he'd do anything to touch and feel her breasts while kissing her. He'd do anything to finger her nipples before sucking her nipples. He'd do anything to see her topless and/or naked. Imagining him on top of her with her legs spread, he'd do anything to have sex with his mother. He'd love nothing more than to screw his mother.

"You did?"

With a confused look on her face as if trying to recall what he had already ask her for his birthday, he watched her brush back her dark brown hair with a toss of her pretty hand and with her practice hand that always positioned every strand of her hair neatly in place. He recognized and realized her practiced move of fixing her hair whenever she was nervous. With him having to play this game of sexual seduction, he knew that she knew what he wanted for his birthday. 

"Yes Mother, I did," he said.

She looked at him as if he was mistaken.

"You told me already what you wanted for your birthday? You did?"

Either she really didn't remember or she was so shocked by his birthday request that she put it out of her mind.

"Yes, mother, I told you," he said hiding his exasperation along with his sexual frustration.

Maybe this was his sign that she didn't sexually want him in the way that he sexually wanted her, he was disappointed that she didn't remember.

"I'm sorry, Paul, but I don't remember you telling me what you wanted to do on your birthday," she said. "Tell me again," she said flashing him her beautiful, big smile. "What would you like to do for your birthday?"

If reading her body language correctly, instead of folding her arms across her breasts to hide her hard, erect nipples, they were already casting their votes that they wanted him to not only finger them but also to suck them. Or misreading her again, maybe she was just cold. A more than subtle sign, she twirled her shoulder length, brown hair with her fingers while looking at him with what he hoped was sexual lust. Going for broke and with this his birthday, a day that she seldom denied him any special request that he made, he blurted out what he so wanted for his birthday. 

"I want to make out with you," he said with a leering look and looking at her as if she was already naked.

As if making light of the situation and not taking her son seriously, she laughed uncomfortably. If only he said what he really wanted to say, I want to screw you, he wondered what she'd say to that.

"Make out with me?" She made an involuntary face as if she had eaten something bitter and bobbed back her head as if she was ducking a fly that dive bombed her face.

"Yes," he said. "That's what I'd like for my birthday, to make out with you."

Now or never, as if he was waiting for his winning numbers to be drawn on the lottery, he stared at his mother with all the pent up sexual excitement that he had for her.

"I thought you were joking," she said reaching her hand to close the top of her partially unbuttoned nightshirt while laughing nervously.

Seemingly acting so modest so as to not flash her son the tops of her breasts, her cleavage, and her bra again, if she was suddenly feeling embarrassed he'd think that she'd button her shirt instead of leaving it unbuttoned all the way down to the top of her bra.

"I wouldn't joke about something like that, something that I don't take lightly, my physical attraction to you," he said going for broke by saying how he truly felt about her.

He wanted to say sexual attraction but changed it to physical attraction at the last second.

"Why would an 18-year-old young man want to make out with a 44-year-old woman?"

She laughed a nervous little laugh. As if trying to read him to discern if he was serious or not, she looked at him looking at her. If someone was to take the ambient temperature of the room, it had just increased by ten degrees. Needless to say, they were both hot.

"Because older women are sexy. You're sexy. And with you being my mother, you're a MILF," he said wishing he hadn't said that as soon as he said it.

Shit! He wished he hadn't said that, called his mother a MILF. Hoping she'd ignore his misspoken word in the way she ignored him trying to French kiss her and in the way that she ignored his erection, he was embarrassed yet somehow relieved when she didn't.

"A MILF?" As if he was speaking a foreign language, she looked at him with confusion. "What's a MILF?"

Wanting to position her in front of her full length mirror, you're a MILF he wanted to say but didn't. You're a mother that I'd like to fuck he thought while thinking how to explain himself. You're my mother and I'd like to screw you, he so wanted to say. I'd love nothing more than to strip you naked, push you back on your bed, and pound your pussy on my birthday Mom.

"Um, MILF means, um, a mother that I'd like to fuck," he said feeling himself turning red.

As soon as he gave her the explanation, he watched her reaction to see what he could discern from her facial expressions and/or her body language. He imagined her on her knees and stroking his cock before sucking his cock. He imagined himself on top of her and making love to her. As soon as he gave her the explanation, he imagined her on top of him screwing him. With her breasts bouncing and swaying, he imagined reaching up to harness them as if his hands were her bra cups. He imagined spinning her around, raising her short nightshirt, pulling down her lacy panties, and taking her doggie style. He wondered what she sounded like when having sex when cumming. He wondered what she acted like when in the throes of making love.

"You'd like to fuck me?" She asked him the question as if inviting him to fuck her. "Is that it?"

Normally his mother doesn't use the word fuck. Generally she refers to sexual intercourse as making love, something that only a husband and wife does. If she uses any slang at all in regards to fucking, she'd use the word screwing. Yet, because the word he used was MILF, she altered her preferred word choice from screw to fuck.

As soon as she asked her question, her face turned red and he couldn't tell if she was sexually excited or angry with him. A subtle sign that she wanted him, he hoped, she wrapped her hair around her fingers again while looking at him looking at her. He watched her screwing her dark brown hair around her finger in the way that he'd love to screw her dark brown pussy. He wondered what she was thinking. With her nipples so big, so hard, and so erect, he wondered if she was sexually excited or just cold.

In the way he couldn't help himself from staring at her erect nipples, he caught her looking down at his erect cock again. If he was to hazard a guess, he'd guess his mother was just as horny as he was but the million dollar question was, did she want him as much as he wanted her? Hoping to find that out, he didn't know. There was only one way to know. He needed to pressure her for him to find out if she was just cold or horny.

"Yes, I mean, no, sorry. I didn't mean it that way. It's just a saying. It just slipped out and I'm sorry I said that," he said.

He felt embarrassed. He felt perverted. Only, he wasn't sorry he had said that. He wasn't sorry that he called his mother a MILF. If anything, she was a MILF. If anything, he was happy to get that out in the open that he wanted to not only fuck his mother but also he wanted to screw his mother after making love to her. 

She laughed. Only, perhaps a mixture of both, he couldn't tell if her laugh was sexy or embarrassed. Was she laughing because she was happy or was she laughing because she was uncomfortable?

"Apology accepted," she said. "So, tell me, what do you really want to do for your birthday?"

To be continued... 



Mother Initiates Son to Manhood Ch. 02



Paul receives the only thing he wants for his 18th birthday, to make out with his mother.

Now that he confessed that not only did he want to make out with his mother but also that he wanted to fuck her, he had everything laid out there on the table. With no more sexual secrets to confess and with his cards all played, he was vulnerably exposed. As if he was a man instead of her 18-year-old son, she was looking at him differently now, with more interest, sexual interest, he hoped.

Was she considering granting him his birthday wish by allowing him to make out with her? If he was reading her correctly, surprised that he did, seemingly he had gotten to her. Now instead of seeing her as his mother, he looked at her as if she was Ashley, his lover.

She had a look on her face that he had never seen before. With her mouth open a little, she stared back at him as if she was Bambi caught in oncoming car headlights. If he was to hazard a guess, he'd guess that she was beginning to become sexually aroused by the thought of him not only making out with her but also possibly making love to her. With him unable to think that far ahead and with him being more realistic in the return of his sexual desire, he'd be happy just to French kiss her while feeling her. Yet, she continued looking at him in the way that women looked at his friends in a bar before leaving with them.

"I already told you what I wanted for my birthday and I wasn't joking. I'd really like to make out with you," he said again with a nonchalant shrug while trying to act as if it was no big deal for his mother to kiss her son and her son to make out with his mother.

As if she was a robot and he had just short circuited her, she stared at him without saying anything. What seemed like uncomfortably long minutes of silence was only several sexually exciting seconds of them staring at one another. With him having the incestuous thoughts of finally making out with his mother while feeling her shapely body for his birthday, he wondered if she shared his thoughts. Then, when she finally spoke again, speaking to him as if he was a deranged lunatic in a mental hospital who seemingly wanted to be deemed normal, she was more careful with her words choice.

"When you say making out with me," she said pausing again. "Do you mean kissing me in the way that a man kisses a woman and not in the way that a mother would kiss her son? Do you mean French kissing me?"

As soon as she said French kissing her, he imagined burying his tongue in his mother's mouth while reaching around her to grab her nightshirt and panty clad ass, before reaching up to feel her nightshirt and bra clad breasts while fingering her erect nipples. While kissing and kissing her, he imagined reaching down in front of her, lifting tails of her nightshirt and, cupping her pussy through her panty, taking the temperature of her sexual arousal by feeling her between her legs. Imagining her lost in his kisses in the way that he'd be lost in her kisses, he imagined pushing her back on the couch, on the coffee table, or on the living room carpet and removing her panties to make love to her. He'd love nothing more than to mount his mother, hump his mother, and screw his mother. After always imagining her sucking him, he always imagined fucking his mother as the last thing he thought of when masturbating before cumming.

"Yes," he said.

With him imagining being lost in her kisses while touching her and feeling her everywhere that a son should never touch and feel his mother, bringing him back to reality, she suddenly burst his bubble with her negative and seemingly final words.

"Paul, I can't do that. I can't kiss you in the way that I kiss your father," she said looking at him as if she was already considering the possibility of French kissing him and making out with her son.

Even with her saying no, her eyes were saying yes and he so wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her, French kiss her while touching and feeling her everywhere. Even if he tried to force her, after already having had a sexual fantasy of touching her and feeling her while kissing her extinguished by her saying no, he couldn't conceal his disappointment. Nonetheless he persevered in asking her his question. With him not to be denied, with this his special day, this request to make out with his mother was his birthday wish after all.

"Why not? I don't understand," he said. "You asked me what I wanted to do for my birthday and making out with you is what I want to do."

Not even daring to ask her but imagining it nonetheless, as a consolation, he wondered if she'd masturbate him instead of kissing him. He suddenly imagined his mother's hand wrapped around his erect prick while she stroked him. He imagined cumming all over her hand and her wishing him a happy birthday.

"Happy Birthday Paul," he imagined her smiling at him while staring at his stiff prick as she wiped his cum from her hand with a tissue.

Some of the female friends with benefits that he had didn't think that there was anything wrong with masturbating a man they weren't dating him while he kissed her and felt her breasts, her ass, and fingered her pussy. Taking it one step further, if she agreed to masturbate him, maybe she'd suck him too. The female friends with benefits that he had didn't even consider giving a man a blowjob sex. Wishing his mother would have a different mindset when thinking about making out with him and possibly having sex with him, he wished his mother was his very special female friend with benefits.

Continuing his sexual fantasy, if she agreed to suck him, maybe she'd screw him too. Suddenly taken with his perverse, incestuous thoughts of having sex with his mother, if she wouldn't even kiss him, there'd be no way that she'd stroke him, suck him, and/or make love to him before fucking him. Her agreeing to make out with him, was the first step in a long process of sexually exciting things that they could do together whenever his father and sister weren't around. He'd like nothing more than to take their mother and son relationship to a more sexual level.

"Because that would be wrong Paul. That would be incestuous of me to kiss you in that sexual way," she said.

Unable to remove the thoughts of her closing her eyes to kiss him while surrendering him her tongue, he couldn't remove the thoughts from his mind of French kissing his mother. He couldn't remove the idea from his mind of feeling his mother's body while kissing his mother's lips. Something he's wanted to do with his mother for as long as he could remember, this was her chance to not only make his sexual fantasy come true but also to give her son his birthday wish.

Not ready to take no for an answer, it was now or never. Either his mother wanted him as much as he wanted her or she didn't. Either way, he needed to know if he could make her change her mind about making out with him.

* * * * *

"I want you to teach me," he said deciding to try a different and possibly a more realistic approach in the sexual seduction of his mother.

With her once a high school English Literature teacher before marrying his father, maybe he could reach her on her level with him needing to be educated in the ways of the world. In the ways of a man needing to know what it's like to be sexually intimate with a woman, maybe he could persuade her by her thinking of him as her student instead of her thinking of him as her son.

"Teach you?" She looked at him as if he had just unlocked the secret, sexy way to seduce his mother. "Teach you what?"

In the way she asked her question, he could tell that he had already piqued her curiosity. At that point, he imagined her as his teacher instead of his mother and himself as her pupil instead of her son. He imagined them naked while she gave him a graphically explicit, X-rated, sex education class. Maybe she could justify making out with him by teaching him about the birds and the bees. Maybe she could justify allowing him to feel her sexy body, if she thought that she was helping him by giving him a life lesson about what women want and what women need instead of seducing him.

"Too busy with my studies while trying to get that college scholarship," he said playing the poor me card by hitting on her inherent motherly sympathy. "I haven't been with a woman," he said lying to his mother with sad eyes and a pitiful expression. "I'm embarrassed to say that I'm a virgin," he said lying again. "Now that I received my scholarship and will start college in September, I don't know the first thing about women and about sex," he said.

Looking inspired and hopefully assuming the role in her responsibility to teach her son all about sex, she now looked at him as a sculptor would look at a block of granite, an artist would look at a blank canvas, or a writer would look at a new page. If not her sexual slave, he wished he could be her sexual model for her to create in him in whatever image she needed for her to have sex with him. Forget about having sex with her, hopefully she would at least agree to make out with him.

He wondered if his mother would be interested in creating him and molding him to her sexual liking. Just as he wouldn't mind posing naked for his mother while she dressed and/or undressed him, he wouldn't mind his mother teaching him how to finger and lick her pussy while she kissed him and kissed her. Only, with her having reservations in even French kissing him, he had serious doubts that any of that would happen until she surprised him with what she said next.

"Well, that's different," she said. "Perhaps I can explain some things to you about women that your father would be unable to explain," she said. 

Opening the door a little by inviting him inside, it was up to him to stick his foot in the door so that she wouldn't slam it shut on him again.

"I'd like that mother," he said.

Baby steps. Obviously, for him to get her when he needed her to be, he needed to take baby steps with her. If it wasn't enough that she was his mother and that he was asking her to have an incestuous relationship by wanting her to make out with him on his birthday, he was asking her to have the modern, friends with benefits, sexuality of someone his age. He needed to keep in mind that she was from a different, more sexually innocent generation. He was forgetting that when she slept, she didn't even remove her bra and/or panty but covered herself with her nightshirt. Then, as if she was talking about her husband to one of her girlfriends instead of talking about his father to him, she further surprised him by taking him in her confidence.

"Like father like son," she said with a little laugh. "Seemingly, too busy working, your father doesn't know much about women either," she said with a laugh, this time a sad, little laugh. "With him working with all of those attractive stewardesses and with some female passengers thinking that a pilot is a real catch and some sort of sexual trophy, I'd think that he'd be more sexually experienced than he is but he's not," she said as if talking to herself while playing with her hair again. "Hard to believe in this day and age, but I don't think he's ever cheated on me," she said with a look of guilt on her face.

It was then he wondered if his mother had cheated on his father. Or was her look of guilt for what she was thinking or for what she was about to do with him? In not so many words, she just confessed that she was sexually frustrated and sexually unfulfilled. Taking up the line by reeling her in, he needed to be more explicit in his request. With her nipples still making their erect appearance through her bra and through her nightshirt, he needed to know if she was just as horny as she was sexually frustrated. He needed to know if she was ready to begin a more fulfilling sexual relationship with him.

"Only..." he said.

"Only, what?" She looked at him in the way he hoped she'd look at him. 

With him baiting his hook, she looked at him with interest not as a mother would look at her son but as a woman would look at a man, her potential lover of a man.

"I was hoping for more than just an explanation mother," he said making solid eye contact with her so that he could watch her reaction to his sexual request.

Staring at her as if she was naked, he stared at the hard, erect impressions that her nipples made in her nightgown until she finally covered them by folding her arms across her breasts.

"More of an explanation? Paul, you're making me uncomfortable with not only your words but also with your leers," she said. "I feel as if you're undressing me with your eyes," she said.

Certainly, in the way he was wantonly looking at her, incestuously leering at her, and sexually lusting over her, he was, indeed, undressing her with his eyes. With her sitting on his face or with his cock buried in her mouth, if only she knew how uncomfortable he wanted to make her, he wondered what she'd say then. He wondered if she'd slap his face or welcome his sexual advances if he dared to tell her what he was thinking and what he was imagining them doing sexually. He wondered what she'd do if only she knew what he was thinking. Would she say yes or no to his sexual requests? There was only one way to find out her answer to his unasked questions.

"You said that because today is my birthday that I could do anything that I wanted on my birthday," he said.

He imagined her agreeing to him stripping off her nightshirt and having her parade around him in her lacy bra and panties while wishing him a Happy Birthday. He imagined her taking him into her bedroom to teach him all about sex by not telling him about sex but showing him about sex. He imagined his mother seducing him as much as he wanted to seduce her. He imagined her allowing him to lick her pussy before she sucked his cock. He imagined screwing his mother before fucking his mother. He imagined her making her his sexual bitch in the way that he wanted to make her his sexual whore.

"Within reason Paul," she said with another nervous laugh.

Now that he's seen the big impressions that her nipples made through her bra and nightshirt, he wondered what she looked like topless. Trying to imagine her without her nightshirt, her bra, and her panty, he wondered what his mother looked like naked. He wondered what she felt like in his arms while he kissed her, touched her, and felt her while she only wore her bra and panties. He wondered what she'd feel like in his arms when wearing only her bra and panty before he wondered what she'd feel like in his arms if she was naked. He wondered if she ever sexually thought of him in the way that he always sexually thought of her.

"What I want for my birthday is for you to take me to your bedroom and make out with me as if you're my girlfriend and I'm your boyfriend," he said. "I've never French kissed a woman Mom," he said lying again. "Other than kissing grandma, my aunt, and you, I've never kissed a woman on the lips. I'm embarrassed to say that I don't even know how to properly kiss a woman," he said looking at her as if looking at his teacher while asking for her help. "Will you at least teach me how to properly kiss a woman?"

There was a long pause while they stared at one another. Then, she spoke as if agreeing to take him to the toy store for his birthday to buy him a toy. The only toys that he wanted to play with was his mother's lips, his mother's tits, his mother's ass, and his mother's pussy. On this day, his 18th birthday, the only toy that he wanted to play with was her and the only toy that he wanted her to play with was his cock. At that moment in time, he didn't want anything or anyone other than his mother.

She stared at him without talking. They stared at one another without either one saying a single word. As if they remained like that for an hour, their silence was no more than a minute. He hoped the sexual heat that burned inside of him burned inside of his mother too. He hoped that his mother was as agreeable to making out with him as he was needing and wanting to make out with her.

"Okay, sure. I can do that for you. I can teach you how to properly kiss a woman but you must promise me that we can't do any more than that. Also and more importantly, you must promise me that you'll never tell your father, your sister, or anyone that we kissed in that inappropriate, incestuous, sexual way," she said.

He looked at her looking at him in the way that he's never seen his mother look at him before. She looked at him as if she was hungry. She looked at him as if she was thinking about being naughty. She looked at him as if she was no longer his mother and he was no longer her son. She looked at him with as much sexual passion as he looked at her.

"Don't worry Mom, it will be our secret," said Paul. "I promise not to try anything more than kissing you. I promise not to tell anyone that you allowed me to make out with you on my birthday."

Already breaking his promise in his mind, he imagined feeling her breasts and fingering her nipples while kissing and kissing her. He imagined going up the back of her short nightshirt not only to expose her panty clad ass but also to feel her beautiful, tight, little ass through her panty. He imagined going up the front of her short nightgown to finger her dark, brown trimmed pussy through her lacy panties. Actually, with him never seeing her pussy, he had no idea if she was bald, trimmed, or bushy. He just figured she was trimmed.

"It's isn't as if we're going to be making out Paul. It's just a kiss or two for demonstration purposes only," she said. "Totally respectable in our intensions, as if I was teaching you how to dance with a woman, it's just me teaching you how to kiss a woman. 

What may just be a kiss to her wasn't just a kiss to him. What she imagined was demonstration purposes only was his intended for practical applications, namely to have sex with his mother. This was something serious good. This was the start of something beautiful.

"Just give me a minute to get dressed," she said.

Get dressed? He panicked. He didn't want her to get dressed. No way. If anything, he'd prefer she got undressed. Picturing her wearing jeans and a turtleneck sweater beneath a bulletproof vest, there was no way that he wanted her changing out of her thin nightshirt other than to don a sheer nightgown without wearing her bra and panties.

"No," he said. "The way you are dressed in your nightshirt is just fine. We can leave the light off if you're more comfortable."

As if he was a blind man who could finally see, he imagined reaching for her and groping her in the dark.

"Okay," she said.

Taking him by the hand, Ashley escorted her son into her bedroom as if they were boyfriend and girlfriend instead of mother and son. She took him in her bedroom as if her son was some, strange man she invited home after making his acquaintance in a bar, something she's done in the past, years ago, when she had a babysitter watching her children and when her husband was flying. With her husband gone all the time, they didn't have the happiest marriage and/or the closet relationship. Their children and this house is what cemented them together. Who knows what will happen to them when their children move away to start a life of their own?

* * * * *

She slipped off her slippers and climbed on the bed like the lady she is and without revealing too much of herself while he slipped off his slippers and moved beside her. Always sitting close to her when on the couch while watching a movie, this was the first time that he sat close to her when they were nearly naked and in bed. With him not wearing any underwear beneath his pajama pants, she was nearly fully dressed with her wearing a panty and a bra beneath her nightshirt.

Hoping to see something that he shouldn't see of her with her flaying her arms and legs in laughter, it took all the control he had not to tickle her. His mother had a pretty laugh and he loved watching her when she was happy enough to laugh. Yet, not satisfied with seeing a quick flash of her panty and/or bra in the dark, he was hoping to see more than that. He not only wanted to see her bra and panty but also he wanted to touch, feel, and fondle her.




Mother Initiates Son to Manhood Ch. 02



"So," he said playing mister innocent when he wasn't so innocent at all.

"So," she said.

Obviously, they were both awkwardly nervous. If he was ten years older, he'd be deemed a pervert. If he was twenty years older, he'd be deemed a letch. If he was thirty years older, he'd be deemed a degenerate. If he was forty years older and more, he'd be considered a dirty, old man. Giving him much to look forward too, right now he just wanted to be on top and inside of his mother.

"If I'm in bed with a woman, what do I do? Do I just start kissing her or—"

With his eyes quickly adjusting to the dark, he could see her. She was so beautiful. She was so sexy. She looked at him to give him a patient smile that only a mother would give her son. He so wanted to kiss her. He couldn't wait to kiss her. This time, he wondered if she'd let him part her lips with his tongue and French kiss her.

"I suppose if you're at a party and have been drinking and find yourself in bed with a woman, you'll probably just start kissing her but unlike men, women need to be in the mood first," she said.

"I should be so lucky. I'm not popular enough to be invited to parties," he said lying again.

"Don't worry. You will," she said patting his knees.

"Okay, so we're in bed, now what?"

"Well for starters, where men don't need much foreplay, men must understand that women need to warm up before having sex. We want to talk first to see if there's more of an emotional connection than just a mere sexual attraction. Where a sexual attraction is enough for a man, unless the woman is a slut and/or a whore, being sexually attracted to someone isn't enough for a woman to begin a lasting relationship."

If only she knew how so very much he was sexually attracted to her, it's unfortunate that their connection is that she's his mother and he's her son.

"I see," he said staring more at her lips than listening to her words. 

He had this nearly uncontrollable to not only kiss her but also to stick his tongue in her mouth so that she'd stop talking and just start kissing.

"Then, along with kissing, we need to be touched, felt, complimented, and adored."

She smiled at him while instructing him on how to become a sexual man. Huh? Wait. Back up. What did she just say about needing to be touched, felt, complimented, and adored? Was she hinting that she wanted to be touched, felt, complimented, and adored while he kissed her? Being that he already adored her and loved complimenting her, it would be no problem for him to touch and feel her. Oh, boy, he couldn't believe he was in bed with his mother with her talking about being kissed, touched, felt, complimented, and adored.

"I see," he said. "I can do that. I can talk to a woman. I'm comfortable talking to women but it never goes beyond that."

She looked at him with love and he looked at her with lust.

"So you need to know not only what it feels like to kiss a woman, French kiss a woman, but also how to kiss a woman? Is that it?"

Eager to kiss her mouth, he stared at her lips.

"Yes," he said.

He was shocked that he was able to convince her to get in bed with him. More than that, he was shocked that his mother already told him that women need to be felt, touched, complimented, and adored while being kissed. He couldn't wait to kiss her while touching her, feeling her, complimenting her, and adoring her. A very good and telling sign, he watched lean to the side of the bed to reach to her nightstand, pickup her lipstick, and coat her lips. He couldn't believe she put on lipstick. 

Feeling so creamy soft, he loved kissing her when she just coated her lips with lipstick. This was it. This was really it. All for the sake of educating him in what to do when in bed with a woman, she was going to not only allow him to kiss her but also she was going to return his kiss. Who knows, maybe she'll even allow him to touch and feel her too?

"Well, kiss me as if you were kissing a woman who sexually interests you," she said. "From there I can tell what you're doing wrong."

If only she knew that he was about to kiss the only woman that sexually interested him, he wondered what she'd say. Depending how well their make out session when, he'd loved to confess to her that he wanted no one else but her. This was it. This was really it. The first step in a long seduction, he was about to make out with his mother while, hopefully touching and feeling her shapely body. Different in how he was about to kiss her, for the first time he was not only going to kiss his mother as if he was her lover instead of her son but she was going to kiss him as if she was his lover instead of his mother.

"Okay," he said.

Moving one leg over her leg, he planted a kiss on her lips while slowly humping her as if he was a pack leader and she was his bitch. Then, when he tried to part her lips again with his tongue while feeling her breast in the palm of his hand, she pushed him away.

"Wait. Stop. Gees, Paul. Slow down. We need to discuss some ground rules first," she said.

She looked at him as if he had just violated her and in reality, he had.

"What? What did I do wrong?"

Instead of being more respectful that she was his mother, he looked at her as if he was having a good time with a prostitute. 

"First of all, I'm not some woman you picked up at a party or at a bar, I'm your mother. Don't get on me in the way that you did," she said pushing his leg off of her while straightening her nightshirt.

"Sorry Mom," he said.

"And don't grope me in the way you did when trying to kiss me. Allow the kiss to progress naturally before you try to French kiss me and before you touch me, feel me, and hump me," she said with a laugh. "Not that you should ever hump your mother," she said laughing again.

"Sorry Mom," he said again.

"It's okay. You did nothing wrong, by humping my leg and feeling my breast while kissing me. You only did what comes natural to a man," she said.

He felt her tit. He couldn't believe he just felt his mother's tit. Did she just give him her permission to touch her and feel her while kissing her? He imagined touching her and feeling her everywhere. He imagined being on top of her not just humping her but pile driving her into her mattress. He imagined bending her over and humping her as if he was a dog and she was his bitch.

"Okay," he said. "Sorry."

Starting all over again, this was the most fun he's had while not masturbating.

"Now kiss me but more gently this time. Put some romance behind it, instead of just sexual lust," she said. "Take it slow. Don't just grab me and grope me while kissing me and while trying to stick your tongue in my mouth. Kiss me first as if you not only like me but want me."

Even in the dark he could see her closing her eyes while ready to be kissed. Obviously, even in the dark she could see that he was lusting over her.

"Okay," he said. "Got it."

Paul leaned into his mother and without moving his leg over her leg, he kissed her. For the first time she returned his kiss and then when he parted her lips with his tongue, she didn't resist. She allowed him to French kiss her. He couldn't believe he was French kissing his mother and she was French kissing him. She willingly surrendered him her tongue. He couldn't believe it.

It was Heavenly French kissing his mother and just as sexually exciting as he imagined it would be. Surrendering him her tongue, he was French kissing his mother and she was French kissing her son. He needed to repeat it in his mind to believe it. He was not only French kissing his mother but she was French kissing him too. A long time sexual fantasy come true, he'll be masturbating over this moment for the rest of his life.

Then, something that most men feel compelled to do when in bed with a woman and French kissing her, when he moved his hand to her breast again, he felt her stiffen. She froze. Maybe kissing her, French kissing her, was one thing but touching her breast and feeling her breasts was entirely something else. Seemingly, at first, she didn't mind her son feeling her breast while French kissing her until he started fingering her nipple.

"Paul, please don't. Stop. That's quite enough. You mustn't do that," she said scolding him.

He couldn't believe that not only did he feel his mother's tit but also he fingered her nipple. Her nipple was so big and so hard. He'll be masturbating over feeling her tit and fingering her nipple later tonight and forever. While replaying in his mind over again he kissing his mother while feeling her up, no doubt he'll be masturbating over this moment for years.

"Do what?"

Playing Mickey the Dunce and acting as if he didn't know what he had done, he acted so innocent, he knew what he did and what she didn't want him to do.

"I don't mind you feeling my breasts while French kissing me, really I don't, being that would be something you'd naturally and certainly do when making out with a woman, but you mustn't finger my nipple in the way you just did," she said.

Seriously? As if she just gave him her permission to feel her tits, she doesn't mind him feeling her breasts so long as he doesn't finger her nipples? Yet, with her denying him the pleasure of him feeling her nipples, feeling her nipples was the best part of feeling her tits. Not feeling her nipples was like a Twinkie that didn't have cream inside. Not allowing him to feel her nipples was akin to opening a beautifully wrapped birthday gift box and finding nothing inside.

"Why not?"

He looked at her while replaying kissing her and feeling her tit in his mind.

"Because you just shouldn't," she said.

He looked at her while replaying fingering her nipple in his mind.

"Why? I don't understand," he said.

Being that he already had an erection, he wished his mother would reach her hand down to feel his cock through his pajama bottoms in the way that he just felt her tit through her nightshirt and bra. He wouldn't forbade her from feeling his cock in the way that she was forbidding him from feeling her nipples.

"Because my nipples are my erogenous zones and you fingering my nipple in that way would sexually excite me," she said. "With it quite enough you French kissing me while feeling my breasts, being that I'm your mother and you're my son, you mustn't sexually excite me when touching me in such a sexual way."

"I see," he said falling silent for a moment while thinking what would be acceptably appropriate for him to do. "Well, couldn't I finger your nipples just a little bit for demonstration purposes while you instructed me as to how to feel a woman's breasts and finger her nipples?"

With a sexually excited look on her face, she fell silent too. He wondered what she was thinking. Was she thinking about him feeling her breasts while fingering her nipples? Was she considering giving him her permission to not only feel her breasts but also to finger her nipples?

"I suppose, as long as you touch me outside of my nightshirt and not inside my bra. As long as you don't try to feel my naked breasts, I don't mind you feeling my breasts and nipples through my nightshirt and my brassiere. As long as you don't finger my nipples too much, I don't mind you touching my nipples through my nightshirt and my brassiere. Only, if I feel uncomfortable with what you're doing, you must stop when I ask you to stop," she said.

He was just as sexually excited about French kissing his mother as he was sexually excited about feeling her tits and fingering her nipples while French kissing her.

"Okay," he said.

To be continued...



Mother Initiates Son to Manhood Ch. 03



Paul and Ashley not only make out as if they're boyfriend and girlfriend instead of mother and son but also have sex.

This time when Paul leaned in to kiss his mother again, she put her arm around his neck. A good sign that she was allowing him to have his wicked way with her body, as if giving her permission to feel her breasts, she gave him free access to her nightshirt and bra clad tits. If it wasn't sexually exciting enough to kiss his mother, French kiss his mother, it was even more sexually exciting to touch, feel, and fondle her tits while kissing her and fingering her erect nipples.

As if her nipples were prisoners of her bra and cloaked behind her nightshirt, if only by their hardness and erectness, they seemed intent on busting out of her bra. This time, as soon as his hand felt her breast and fingered her nipples through her nightshirt and bra, instead of forcing his tongue in her mouth, she parted his lips with her tongue. Instead of him French kissing her, she French kissed him. Instead of him showing her the passion he had for her, she was showing him the passion she had for him. Never has he felt anything as sexually exciting as French kissing his mother while feeling her breasts and fingering her nipples, albeit through her clothes.

With one hand feeling her breasts, he reached his other hand around her to feel her ass through her nightshirt. In the same way she was when he felt her breast and fingered her nipple for the first time, she seemingly was okay with him feeling her panty clad ass through her nightshirt. Then, when he lifted the back of her nightshirt to feel her ass through her panties, she stiffened in the way she stiffened the first time he felt her breast and fingered her nipple through her nightshirt and bra.

"Paul please don't," she said. "I don't mind you feeling my ass through my nightshirt but I'm not comfortable with you lifting my nightshirt to feel my ass through my panty. If you don't mind, I'd much rather that you don't go beneath my nightshirt to feel my panty clad ass," she said. "Okay?"

What was he supposed to say? He had to agree with her. He had to give in to her. Even though it was so much more sexually exciting to lift the back of her nightshirt and feel her round, firm ass through her panty, he had to stop when she said stop. Not wanting her to pull the plug on making out with his mother, those were her rules for him to be in bed with her while making out with his mother.

She was in control of what he could touch and feel and what he couldn't touch and feel. If it wasn't enough that she was kissing him, French kissing him, he couldn't believe she allowed him to feel her ass through her nightshirt. He couldn't believe she allowed him to feel her breasts and finger her nipples through her nightshirt and bra. He couldn't believe she said it was okay for him to feel her ass through her nightshirt. He couldn't believe he felt his mother's round, firm ass through her panties. What an ass? She had such a great ass. He couldn't wait to feel her ass again even if he was relegated to feeling it through her nightshirt instead of her panty.

"Okay," he said. "Sorry."

He couldn't wait to touch and feel her again while French kissing her again. Now with Paul French kissing his mother while feeling her breasts, fingering her nipples, and feeling her ass, albeit through her nightshirt, bra, and panties, he continued kissing and kissing her. With his birthday wish realized, indeed, he was making out with his mother. Something he could only imagine before was really happening now. 

Only, wanting more, he moved his hand down from her ass to feel his mother's shapely, naked thighs. As if she had a fever or was on fire, her naked thighs were so warm to his horny touch. Just as he's never touched her nightshirt and bra and panty clad breasts and ass, he's never touched his mother's naked thighs. Building up the courage, he was intent on feeling her in the place where he emerged when he was born. Determined to touch her there, where no son should ever touch his mother, he wanted to feel his mother's cunt not just through her nightshirt but through her panty.

While kissing and kissing her, slowly and stealthily, he moved his horny hand to the front of her. Moving his hand higher, he felt the front of his mother's panty through her nightshirt. With him committing no foul there, so long as he didn't go beneath her nightshirt, she allowed him to touch the front of her panty albeit through her nightshirt. Then, gradually, ever so slowly, he moved his hand lower and lower while kissing her more passionately. Then, he touched her panty clad pussy with his fingertips, albeit still through her nightshirt. Following her rules, apparently, so long as he only touched her through her nightshirt and through her bra and panty, she allowed him to feel and fondled her body, even her pussy.

Touching her panty clad pussy over her nightshirt, he kept his hand in place while moving only his fingertips along the front of her mound. Finally, moving his hand more forcefully, with her nightshirt acting as a condom for his hand, he parted her thighs and slipped his hand between her legs. In the way she put her arm around his neck to give him access to her breasts, she parted her legs to give him access to her pussy. So long as he didn't lift her nightshirt out of the way, she was okay with him touching her anywhere and everywhere while kissing and kissing her.

With him being so boldly inappropriate in touching and feeling his mother's body, he was cupping his mother's panty clad pussy in his hand, albeit still through her nightshirt and panty. Albeit still feeling her through her nightshirt, he couldn't believe he was feeling his mother's panty clad pussy while French kissing her, feeling her breasts, and fingering her nipples. Daring not to move his fingers, thinking better of it than to push his luck, he so wanted to go beneath her nightshirt to trace his mother's slit through her panties with his fingertips.

With her panties so sheer and so thin, even with her nightshirt playing interference, blocking his progress, and adding to his sexual frustration, he could feel quite a lot of her pussy. While still with his touches all through her nightshirt covered panty, he touched her dark brown pubic hair and traced her pussy lips through her thin nightshirt. As soon as he touched her where no son should ever touch his mother, she squirmed her sexual excitement. Immediately, with her getting more sexually aroused, he could feel the change of her in his arms and with her kiss.

She felt firmly soft. She felt seductively vulnerable. She felt sexually willing. As if she was the suddenly the seducer instead of him being the charmer, her kisses became more passionate. Her breathing became shallower and her pulse quickened. Warming her to a hotter temperature, turning her on, he was getting her in the mood for sex.

* * * * *

Then, in the way he lifted the back of her nightgown, with her seemingly lost in his kisses, he lifted the front of her nightgown. With her panty clad pussy now fully exposed to his horny hand, she didn't resist his fingers touching her brown, trimmed pubic hair through her panty. Seemingly, in the way she didn't mind him feeling her tits, and in the way she was twirling her shoulder length brown hair with her fingers while talking to him earlier, she didn't mind him twirling her pubic hair with his fingers, albeit through her panties.

Just as she was seemingly okay with him touching her pussy beneath her nightshirt and through her panty. Seemingly she was okay with him feeling her panty clad pussy beneath her nightshirt until he took it one step further and stuck his hand between her shapely thighs again. This time, instead of feeling her pussy through her nightshirt and panty, he felt her pussy through her sheer, thin panty. This time he wanted to feel her warm wetness. This time, he wanted to finger his mother's cunt.

The dirty dog that he is, he felt his mother's vaginal secretions with his fingertips through her panties. Her panties were moistly warm. She was hot just as he was hot. She was wet just as he was hard. She was ready just as he was horny.

Then, as if he was a second story burglar unlocking the combination to her safe and to open her vault, he moved her panty aside with his fingertip. He was touching his mother's naked cunt. He couldn't believe he was touching his mother's naked cunt.

Having the soft, subtle touch of an expert pickpocket, when he traced her pussy slip and parted her pussy lips, he delved his finger in deeper to feel his mother's vaginal secretions. Slipping his finger right inside of her, she was so wet. She was sticky wet and the tip of his finger was filled with her sexually secreted slime. It was when he moved his fingers to rub her clit that she stopped him.

"Paul no. Don't. Please don't. Stop," she said breathlessly while feebly pushing him away. "You mustn't. I'm your mother and this is wrong."

"Mother please," he said.

"I don't mind you kissing me, really I don't. I quite enjoyed your kissing me while touching me and feeling me but you mustn't masturbate me," she said.

He couldn't believe he just touched his mother's naked pussy. He couldn't believe he just fingered his mother. He couldn't believe she was stopping him just when the fun was beginning.

"Okay, Mother," he said moving his finger away from her pussy and out of her panty.

In the way that his cock was so very hard for his mother, perhaps she was embarrassed that she was so sexually aroused and wet for her son. Perhaps, no doubt, she was awkwardly uncomfortable with her son fingering her pussy. Maybe he was wrong to touch her where he emerged 18-years-ago. He had made his mother wet by kissing her, feeling her breast, fingering her nipple, feeling her ass, and now touching her pussy. With her ready for sex and with her ready to accept his hard, erect cock in her warm, wet pussy, it was then that he realized that she wanted him as much as he wanted her, that is, until she said otherwise.

"You mustn't touch me there in that sexual way Paul," she said.

With him receiving mixed messages, he was confused. He didn't know what to do next. As if she took his toy away when he was having so very much fun playing with it, he didn't want to stop fingering his mother's pussy. Yet, fearing that he'd ruin everything and she'd no longer allow him to kiss her while feeling her, he hoped that she'd eventually relent and allow him to screw her. He didn't want to stop kissing, touching, and feeling his mother's beautiful body.

"What?" Continuing to sexually tease her, he looked at her while fingering her nipple through her nightshirt. "Did I do something wrong?"

With the sexual fragrance of his mother all over his fingertip, she looked down at his fingers playing with her nipples through her nightshirt and bra. Her nipples were so hard. Her nipples were so erect. Her nipples were so big. She was so ready to make love. She was so ready for him to mount her and make love to her before fucking her and figuratively screwing her.

"No, I mean, yes. I don't mind you touching and feeling me through my nightshirt and through my bra and panty but you mustn't lift my nightshirt to touch and feel my naked body. It's enough that I'm in bed with you. It's enough that I'm French kissing you. It's enough that I'm allowing you to touch and feel me only where you're father has touched and felt me," she said.

"I understand mother and am grateful for you granting me my birthday wish," he said.

"You mustn't feel me inside of my panty Paul. My private place is just that, private and reserved only for your father. I'm uncomfortable with you fingering my pussy. Okay?"

Now that he was already here, as if telling an explorer that he could no longer explore, he wasn't about to stop his sexual albeit incestuous exploration of his mother's shapely body. Nonetheless, Paul was sexually excited hearing his mother use the word pussy. Never having heard her say pussy before, he couldn't wait to hear her say cock.

"Okay," he said. "I'm sorry."

* * * * *

Having only imagined kissing his mother, he couldn't believe he was not only kissing her but French kissing her now. Having only imagined touching and feeling his mother while masturbating himself, he couldn't believe he was touching and feeling his mother now, albeit through her clothes. Having only imagined what it would be like to have sex with his mother, never has he seen his mother as sexually aroused and as helplessly vulnerable as she was now.

With color to her cheeks that even glowed in the dark, she was even more beautiful when she was sexually excited. His father was such a lucky bastard to have such a hot woman in his bed. If he was to mount her now, he suspected that she wouldn't resist him. He suspected that she'd allow him to make love to her. He suspected that she'd allow him to screw her before fucking her, really fucking her hard.

He'd love to know what it would feel like to be on top of her. He'd love to know what it would feel like to be inside of his mother. He'd love to know what it would feel like for her to be naked and with her arms and legs wrapped around his naked body. He'd love to know what it would feel like to hump her, really hump her fast and hard.

"There's no reason to be sorry. You're just doing what any healthy, young man would do with a woman, perhaps not with his mother though," she said with a dirty laugh.

They fell silent while looking at one another. 

"May I still kiss you?"

She smiled and kissed him lightly on the lips.

"Of course," she said.

When he moved his hand to her breast, she put her arm around his neck again to give him access to her breasts.

"Can I still touch and feel you through your nightshirt?"

She touched the side of his face with her hand and lightly kissed him.

"Yes," she said resting her hand at the top of his thigh and only mere inches from the tip of his cock.

He took her hand by her wrist and moved it to his penis.

"Would you touch me through my pajama bottoms?"

She pulled her hand away but still left it at the top of his thigh.

"Paul, I don't think that I should," she said. "My touching your penis is sexually inappropriate and doesn't correspond with my lesson in instructing you how to kiss a woman. Isn't it enough that I allow you to touch and feel me?"

He took her hand and moved it back to his cock again.

"Why not?"

This time, not moving her hand away and not moving her hand and/or fingers at all, she kept her hand there in contact with his pajama clad penis.

"You'd get too excited if I was to feel your cock, wouldn't you?"

Surprising him while sexually exciting him, she ever so lightly made slow circles around the head of his cock through his pajama bottoms with her fingertips. He couldn't believe she was touching his prick. He couldn't believe how seductively good it felt for her to touch him without even her stroking him. No doubt she was teasing him but he didn't care. She was seducing him in the way that he imagined he seduced her by fingering her nipples before fingering her pussy.

"Perhaps I would get too sexually excited if you were to feel my cock," he said. "But I need to know what it feels like to have a woman touching me."

He gently took her by her hand again. This time, holding her hand in place, he tried wrapping her fingers around his cock through his pajama.

"Okay," she said. "I'll touch and feel your cock but only through your pajamas. Okay? You mustn't remove your penis. In the way that I wouldn't allow you to touch and feel my naked body, I mustn't touch and feel your naked penis," she said as if scolding him and instructing him not to touch a hot stove.

Baby steps, continuing to take baby steps, he was getting all that he wanted from his mother and would soon, no doubt, get even more. Not wanting to force his mother to touch his erect prick, he let go of her hand to see what she'd do.

"Okay," he said.

* * * * *

Paul returned to kissing his mother while feeling her breasts and lightly fingering her nipples through her nightshirt and bra. He continued feeling her ass, and touching her between her legs through her nightshirt and panties. Availing her nightshirt clad body to her son, Ashley returned her son's kisses while touching and feeling his engorged prick through his pajamas.

With his mother fingering the head of his cock through his pajama bottoms, it didn't take him very long to have a raging erection. As soon as his cock stiffened even harder than it was before, as shocking as it was surprising, it didn't take his prick long to find its way out of his pajama pee hole. As soon as his cock emerged out of his pajama bottom, touching his exposed penis with her fingers, she stared down at his cock. Then, without him having to pull her hand to his exposed prick, Ashley wrapped her fingers around her son's naked cock. He couldn't believe his mother was holding his cock in her hand. He couldn't believe his mother was ever so slowly stroking him.

When she did that, when she started masturbating him, he buttoned her nightshirt, one slow, nervous button at a time while stopping to look all that he could see of her before unbuttoning the next button. Cooperating with him in undressing her, she removed her arms from her nightshirt. Now dressed in only her panty and bra, he continued kissing her while feeling her through her panty and bra while she continued slowly stoking his cock. Seeing how far she'd allow him to go, he unsnapped her bra, a front snapping bra. Feeling his mother through her sexy underwear, his horny hands were all over her big bra and thin, lacy panties.

With most of her breasts now exposed to his horny eyes, but for her nipples and areolas, not wanting to rush the first time feeling her naked tits, he continued kissing her while feeling her ass and pussy through her panty. He wanted to arouse her more before he felt her naked tits and fingered her nipples. Then, slowly pushing her bra cups aside, he exposed her big tits. Even in the dark, he could see her breasts, her areolas, and her nipples. With her nipples fully erect, even in the dark, he could tell that his mother sexually wanted him as much as he sexually wanted her. He couldn't wait to feel her big tits. He couldn't wait to finger her nipples. He couldn't wait to suck her nipples.

As soon as she tightened her gripe around his cock and stroked him a little faster, he cupped her pussy through her panty. Prick for pussy, with her stroking his prick, he pushed her panty aside to finger her pussy. This time, she didn't stop him. This time she seemingly wasn't embarrassed that he could feel how wet and sexually excited she was. This time she didn't stop him from rubbing her clit and sticking his finger deep within her cunt.

While fingering his mother, she continued stroking him as they kissed and kissed. Then while still fingering her, with his other hand, he explored the fullness of her C cup breasts. He helped her remove her bra. He felt her fondled her big tits while fingering her nipples. Then something he always imagined doing while masturbating himself, he leaned down to take his mother's big tits in his mouth, first one and then the other. He hasn't sucked her tits in more than 20 years. He removed her nipples from his mouth to stare at her breasts and to peer down at her panty clad pussy.

With her obviously enjoying kissing him while stroking his cock as he sucked her big tits, he stuck his hand down her panty. Just as she was masturbating him harder and faster, he was really masturbating his mother now. Rubbing her clit harder and faster, he fingered her pussy deeper. He couldn't wait until his cock was inside of her instead of her finger. He couldn't wait until he was making love to his mother before fucking his mother.




Mother Initiates Son to Manhood Ch. 03



With her feeling and stroking his cock harder and faster and with him fingering her pussy while rubbing her clit, he lowered himself down to again suck his mother's nipples. He sucked one before sucking the other. Then, going back and forth to repeat the process of sucking her nipples over and again, she was putty in his hands. When he lifted his head, she kissed him even more passionately than she did before. She broke off her kiss to whisper in his ear.

* * * * *

"Being that it's your birthday and being that we're already in bed together and have already done more than what we should have done," she said with a long pause as if thinking twice with what she was about to say. "Would you like me to masturbate you? Would you like me to make you cum? I don't mind doing that. I can do that for you, my son, as my special birthday gift to you," she said kissing him with more even passion as she ever so slowly stroked his cock. "You may come on my hand or on my breasts," she said stroking him faster.

With him thinking that she was already masturbating him, he looked down to watch her stroking him. Official now, with his mother asking him if he wanted her to masturbate him, he wondered if he should ask her if she wanted him to masturbate her. He like to see what she looks like and sounds like when she's having an orgasm.

"I'd love for you to masturbate me Mom, only..."

Showing her the sexual lust he had for her, he gazed in her big, green eyes.

"Only what?

Slowly rubbing her clit, he applied more pressure before inserting his middle finger deeper inside of his mother. She gasped when her son touched her as deep as her husband touched her.

"Can we get naked? I want to know what it feels like to have a naked woman in my arms," he said.

Unable to read her, he was unable to tell if she'd get naked with him or not. Figuring that she would agree to get naked being that they were nearly naked already, with her only wearing her panties, he couldn't wait to feel her naked body pressed against his.

"Oh, God, Paul. We should never have started this," she said.

Not wanting to miss this opportunity of being naked next to his mother, he persevered in his request.

"Please Mom. I promise not to touch you anywhere I'm not supposed to or where you forbid me to touch you," he said.

Only, he's already touched and felt her in all of those forbidden places already. There was a long pause as if she was considering his request.

"Okay, but the lights stay off," she said.

Excited, he couldn't wait to strip naked while watching his mother removing her panties.

"Okay," he said. "I won't turn on the lights."

Ashley raised her hips to remove her panties while Paul removed his tee-shirt and pajama bottoms. With his eyes accustomed to the dark, even in the dark, he could perceive his mother's naked body. Then, when she turned to him and moved closer to him with her bare breasts and nipples pressed against his naked chest and his hard cock pushed against his mother's soft belly, he was in Heaven. Paul put an arm around his mother and touched, felt, fondled, and squeezed her naked ass. This time, she didn't scold him not to touch her ass. This time she allowed him to have his wicked, sexual way with her naked body.

Then, when he reached up to feel her breasts, first one and then the other, while kissing and kissing her, she didn't recoil when he fingered, pulled, turned, and twisted her nipples. Matter of fact, she seemingly enjoyed him fingering her nipples. The more he fingered, pulsed, turned, and twisted her nipples, the more sexually excited she became. He was tempted to lean down to take his mother's nipples in his mouth again but he didn't want to move too fast too quickly. Rather taking it slower, he didn't want to get too excited too quickly. Instead he was content kissing her while feeling her.

Taking it slower, should this be the only time he'd be in bed with his mother, he didn't want to ruin things by rushing things. Wanting to not only enjoy but also savor the moment, he'd be masturbating over this day for the rest of his life. No doubt, he'll remember this time they shared together, after he found a woman to marry and had children of his own. Then, every time he took his children to see their grandmother, he'd think of this day when he was naked and in bed with his mother, Grandma Ashley.

It wasn't until she took his cock in her hand again and started stroking him again that he moved his hand to in between her thighs again. Slowly his hand climbed higher until he touched her pubic hair with his fingertips again. As if he was mindlessly playing with his hair while studying, he twirled her pubic hair with his fingers. It was when he traced her pussy lips with his fingers that she spoke.

* * * * *

"Have you never touched a woman before in her private place?"

"No," he said.

Seemingly there was a long pause where no one spoke while she kissed him and he kissed her. Continuing to touch and feel his mother, she continued slowly stroking her son.

"As my special birthday gift to you, would you like to touch me in my private place?"

She whispered her words in his ear while looking into his eyes.

"Yes," he said. A bit late for her invitation, he's already been touching her in her private place. "Only, you'll have to teach me what to do. You'll need to show me how to touch you," he said playing the sexual novice.

She looked at him, lightly kissed him on the lips, and gave him a smile.

"I can do that," she said.

She moved to her back, spread her legs, and abandoned his erect prick to take his wrist in her hand. With her holding his hand, she moved their hands to her pussy and taking his finger in between her thumb and index finger, she positioned his finger to her clit. Slowly massaging her clit while gently exerting more pressure, she showed him not only where but also how to touch her. Then, increasing the pressure, she pushed his finger down on her clit before inserting his middle finger inside of her.

"You're so wet Mom," he said.

He couldn't believe how wet she was. He couldn't believe that his mother was so very sexually excited. Under her supervision and expressed permission, he couldn't believe he was fingering his mother's pussy. 

"Men get hard when their sexually excited and women get wet," she said.

With him ready to enter her with his cock after entering her with his fingers, he was as hard as she was wet. He slowly slithered down the bed to get a closer look at her pussy.

"How does that feel?" He continued fingering her pussy. "Am I doing that correctly?"

She swooned while letting out a sigh of pleasure.

"Yes," she said breathlessly. "If you keep that up, you're going to me cum."

Poised to position himself between her legs and ready to stick his face between his mother's thighs, he was ready to eat his mother.

"May I lick you?"

He figured she heard him ask her the question but maybe she wanted to hear him ask it again. Maybe hearing the question turned her on as much as it turned him on to ask the question.

"Pardon?" 

Hoping she'd say yes but ready to not take no for an answer, he asked his question again.

"May I lick you mother," he said.

As if she was contemplating her son licking her pussy while fingering her pussy, she didn't immediately answer him.

"No, that's not a good idea Paul. And being that we're in bed naked, please don't call me mother. Call me Ashely. It's enough that we're kissing, touching, feeling, and masturbating one another," she laughed. "Something your father rarely does, I can't believe you asked to eat me."

He persevered in wanting to eat his mother.

"Why not?"

She looked at him to give him a knowing smile.

"Because after you lick me, you'll want me to suck you and I'm not ready for that. I'm not ready to blow my son. I can't imagine the wicked woman I'd be to have my son's penis in my mouth. Further, once I start sucking you, no doubt, you'll want to cum in my mouth and you'll want me to swallow you," she said.

Just hearing her saying all of that made him want his mother to suck him. Just having that suspicion that he'd want her to suck him and cum in her mouth made him want to cum in her mouth.

"You wouldn't to suck me, Mother," he said lying. "With you instructing me, I'd just like to know what it's like to lick a woman," he said.

In the way she toyed with his hair while reaching her hand down to finger his cock, he knew she'd relent and allow him to lick her pussy.

"Oh, my God, Paul. I can't believe we're doing this. Next you'll want me to suck you before I fuck you," she said.

With her saying that again about sucking him, was that her not so subtle hint that she wanted to suck him? Was she testing the waters before leaning down to take his cock in her mouth to make sure that he wanted her to blow him as much as she wanted to suck him? Maybe she wanted to make love to him as much as he wanted to fuck her.

"Only if you wanted to suck and fuck me, Ashley," he said. 

He imagined his mother looking up at him with her big, green eyes, while he put a gentle hand to the back of her pretty head as she sucked and stroked his engorged prick. He imagined mounting his mother while she reached her hand down to direct his erection inside of her.

"Well, don't get your hopes up. It's enough that I'm allowing you to lick me," she said laughing while Paul positioned himself between her legs.

* * * * *

Somehow Paul knew that once he licked his mother, once he gave her an orgasm with his fingers and with his mouth, that she'd suck him too before allowing him to have sexual intercourse with her naked body. Licking and licking her while fingering and while reaching his hands up to feel and fondle her breasts while fingering her nipples, it didn't take his mother long to have an orgasm. As soon as she did, she reached down for him and with his mouth and chin glistening with her vaginal secrets, she kissed him. 

Then, with her all over his tongue, as he snowballed her juices back in her mouth and if she was eating her own pussy, she French kissed him. With her vaginal secretions all over her face as much as they were all over his face, they continued kissing. Then, holding him for a few minutes, she enjoyed the afterglow of the sexual pleasure he just given her. Without him having to ask, beg, or coerce her, she slid her body halfway down the bed to take him in her hand before taking him in her mouth. 

"Oh my God, Mom. That feels so incredibly good. I hope you don't take this the wrong way, I only mean this as a compliment, but you're one Hell of a great cocksucker," he said.

She was blowing him. His mother was sucking his cock. Ashley had his prick in her mouth. Looking down at her looking up at him, he couldn't believe that his hard, hairy cock was buried in his mother's sweet mouth.

"Thank you, I think," she said removing his cock from her mouth to speak.

He couldn't believe his mother was sucking his stiff prick. Not believing that this was really happening, again and again, he looked down at her looking up at him. Reaching his hand down, he fondled her breast while playing with her nipple. 

"Suck my prick Mom. Blow me. I can't wait to cum in your mouth, but I can't. No yet," he said.

Not wanting to cum just yet, a monumental act of self-control on his part, he pulled his prick away from her mouth and reached down for her in the way that she reached down for him. He kissed her. He could taste himself on his lips. While kissing her, he mounted her. He needed to make love to her. He needed to screw her. He needed to fuck her hard enough for her to have another orgasm.

"Paul, no. You mustn't," she said feebly protesting. "Please, no. We can't. This is wrong, so very wrong," she said feebly protesting by pushing her hands against his chest.

Only this time not allowing her to have her way, he moved his prick to her pussy. When he felt her hand reaching down for him, he knew he had her permission. Gently, with the help of her hand, he eased himself inside of her and his cock slid right inside. She was so wet. She was so warm. She was so tight. As if he was meant to be sexually intimate with his mother, she felt so wonderful.

Humping and humping her, she returned his humps until they developed a steady rhythm. He was making love to his mother. He was screwing his Mom. He was fucking Ashley. Then, unable to control himself, between her masturbating him, sucking him, and now screwing him, he was ready to cum.

"I'm going to cum Ashley," he said.

After imagining what it would be like to have his cock buried in his mother's pussy, he always imagined what it would feel like to fill his mother's pussy with his sperm. He so wanted to cum in his mother's pussy. Wanting her to be his sexual slave, his slut, and his whore, he so wanted to make her his bitch. 

"Don't cum inside of me," she said. "I can still get pregnant. Cum in my mouth, instead," she said.

As soon as pulled extricated himself from his mother's pussy, she moved herself down to take him in her mouth. It didn't take more than a few sucks and a couple of strokes before he exploded all of his incestuous lust for his mother in her mouth.

To be continued...