0 comments/ 137957 views/ 4 favorites Inspiring Mom By: Synthia My name is Lori. I'm a 19 year old student in my second year at the local junior college and still living at home with my mom. I was supposed to be away at a university, but my dad had passed away two years ago, and we had to make some adjustments. I'm 5 ft. 8 and borderline skinny with small tits, but I like to think of myself as slim but curvy. Not curvy enough maybe. Medium length blondish hair and regular if not pretty features. Okay, but nothing special I usually say. For some reason I'd always dressed pretty conservatively and probably didn't play up my better features such as my long slim legs enough. In some ways I wished I looked more like my mom who had fairly large tits and a well rounded ass. My father's genes or some other quirk, I guess. I had a boy friend until recently, but he had gone away to college, and it looked like we were pretty much history. I didn't miss him that much. The sex was below average, and he was too much concerned with cumming quickly and getting it over with. My sexual history before him was nothing too inspiring either, and I sometimes felt I just wasn't getting my fair share of erotic experiences. It seemed to me that my mom, who was age 45, could be guilty of some "moping around the house" since my father's passing. She hadn't dated much at all, seemed careless with her appearance, and like me her manner of dress didn't really play up her better features. I didn't know for sure, of course, but I sensed that her sex life with my dad had been only fair at best. Middle aged doldrums maybe. I was normally pretty discreet with my sex life, but one night I "got lucky" and picked up a stud and sneaked him into the house very late at night. Mom was usually a sound sleeper, but I hadn't counted on this guy ringing my sexual bell quite so much. He soon had me crawling all over the bed, and we were making some noise with our grunts, cries and moans. I hoped we didn't wake mom, but I felt like I had been really fucked for the first time in a while. A couple of days later, I passed by mom's closed bedroom door and heard some sounds like I had been making the other night. They were clearly sexual cries and moans, and I heard "Fuck meee". I was startled but quickly realized it was not her voice but was likely from some kind of porno film. The film got quieter, and the moans I heard were from her. I was certain she was masturbating. The next day I asked mom, whose name is Betty, why her dating and social life were so minimal since my dad's death. She replied, "Oh, I don't know, Lori. I've been pretty busy with all the adjustments that were necessary. I'm a few pounds overweight and haven't done anything about it. Also, maybe I was just married too long and need some kind of jump start to get me going." Then I bluntly asked her if she missed her sex life. She said it wasn't great before, but yes she did sometimes miss it. She admitted she had heard me with the "young man" the other night, and that had inspired her somewhat. I didn't tell her I had heard at least part of her inspiration last night. All this got me thinking, and a plan slowly took shape in my mind over the next week. At first I tried to dismiss it as just too kinky and taboo, but it wouldn't go away. I remembered what my mom had said about needing a "jump start", and I felt this would certainly do it. The plan I'd been trying to dismiss was for me to pick up some studs and have them take care of my mom. I wasn't sure I could pull this off though, unless I got involved too. I reasoned it would only be for a fairly short time to get her going as she had said, and could be part of a makeover program for both her and myself. After I settled on the plan, I brought it up with mom but started with the makeover part. I told her, "Mom, let's you and I get on some kind of program to help you lose a few pounds while I maybe gain a few. Also, both of us are a bit too dowdy in our appearance and manner of dress, and we can solve that with some shopping and changes in habits." Then I hit her with the rest of it, but I sort of disguised it to sound less kinky and taboo. I said, "I may know some guys who can help jump start your sex life. Could you handle that?" She was flustered and stammered for a few seconds, but said she had been thinking about the makeover part anyway, and she might be able to handle the part about the guys if she started slow. And so we were off on the program with a whirlwind of shopping, exercise and workouts, diet changes, new hairdos and so on. I bought some short skirts, skimpy blouses, and some "fuck me" heels. I made sure my mom got some sexy clothes too and insisted on a couple of teddys, a short wrap around robe, thigh high stockings, and some strappy heels. Her new "do" with streaks of blonde in her brown hair looked good, and she soon lost a few pounds while I gained a few. Everything seemed to be going well. The next problem was could I come through on my promise to deliver some guys. I was counting on the old adage about guys thinking with their dicks. Makeover or no, I was never going to be Paris Hilton, but I felt if I just rubbed it on them the right way, I'd get my share. I knew some places where I could likely pick up some hunky guys if I worked it right. One night I got dressed up in my new sexier clothes and told mom I was going out. I said I might bring her back a "friend" later, and she should wear her new white wrap around robe, the thigh highs, and some strappy heels. She was startled and tried to ask me some questions, but I darted out the door before I had to do any more explaining. Long story short, I scoped out the action in the club and settled on a hunky guy about 25. A little older than I usually went for, but he was not strictly for me. It took a little doing and rubbing, but he got the message, and soon we were planning to go to my place for a little nightcap. I sneaked away to the ladies and called mom from my cell phone. I told her I was on my way with a guy and that she should wait in her darkened bedroom while I entertained him, and then I would introduce them. "Wh – What's going on, Lori?" she said. I told her to just do as I asked and I would explain later. Matt the hunk and I came in the door kissing passionately and quickly moved to my bedroom and started stripping our clothes off. I finished undressing him by pulling down his shorts, and as soon as his cock was visible I noted it was about eight inches and thick. If he fucked my mom later as I had planned she was going to get a workout. I took him in my mouth and sucked hard, but I didn't do this too long, because I wanted him to "save" his cock for some later action. He sucked my pussy, but I was panting for him to fuck me. He started easing his cock into me, but I humped forward to bury it up to the balls. We fucked hard and fast, and soon I felt his throbbing cock swelling, and then I felt his cum spurts in my pussy as I scissored my legs wide and came with him. We wound down for a short while, but I stroked his cock to make it clear I wanted another round. Except in this case his next round would be with somebody else. This was going to be tricky, but I thought I could pull it off. We hadn't made too much noise with our fucking, but mom had to know what was going on. It should be clear to her what I meant by "entertain him", and if she hadn't bolted and run by now it should work out. As soon as Matt's cock was mostly hard I told him I had someone else for him. He was so startled it was pretty easy to get him to put his shorts back on and just lead him to mom's room. She was dressed as I had asked and she looked good sitting on the bed with her legs crossed and the lacy tops of the thigh highs showing. I introduced her as Betty, not my mom, and Matt was in his shorts with a two thirds hard on, so there could be no mistaking the purpose of this meeting. I told them I would see them later, and mom looked kind of panicky as I closed the door. I was wishing now that Matt had a more average size cock. I heard some muffled conversation for a couple of minutes, and then it got pretty quiet. I moved to the door in time to hear some gasps and moans from mom and then the unmistakable sounds of a bed under the stress of its occupants fucking. If there was any doubt I heard mom wailing "Fuck meee" a little later. Soon this was followed by Matt's grunts and mom's cries signaling their climaxes. Matt figured out that "Betty" was my mom of course, but I told him it was a long story, and I'd explain later if he chose to come around again. He thanked me for a very "stimulating" evening before he left. The next day mom was on a guilt trip. "It's such a taboo for mother and daughter to have sex with the same guy," she said. I said this was just a pick up thing and might well be just a one night stand. I told her the old bait and switch trick might have been too much for Matt to handle unless I got involved too, so she shouldn't worry about it. Then I asked her if she had enjoyed it, and she admitted she had. "He was quite large, and it felt really good once he was in me. He was very athletic and I had trouble keeping up at first. Having a young stud like that has inspired me to lose a few more pounds," she said. Mom had mentioned starting slow, so I didn't worry about lining up anybody else for her for a couple of weeks. Truthfully, I was sort of dreading going through the same routine I had used with Matt. It had worked pretty well with him, but it was fairly complicated and hard to predict exactly how it would work out. Then two things happened which eased the way, so to speak. The hunk who had provided some inspiration for my mom when he and I fucked called unexpectedly. His name was Ron, and he said he had something going with a girl when we met, but that was over, and he wondered if we could get together. I had worked him over pretty good that night, and maybe I'd made an impression. Right after that Matt called, and he also wanted to get together. I could tell he was intrigued by the experience with me and my mom and maybe wanted some more of that. I had promised I would give him some background on mom's situation, so I did that and he seemed to understand. So now I had some options, and it might be just a matter of how to best work those for the benefit of both my mom and me. I decided to go out with Matt first, since he had already fucked mom and seemed to be interested in a repeat. But her comment about having trouble keeping up at first led me to make some plans to watch them to see how she was doing. It should be pretty simple really. I would lead Matt into her bedroom as I had before, and when I closed the bedroom door, I would just pull it to but not shut. A slight push on the door from the darkened hall and it should open a couple of inches to allow me a pretty good view. Matt and I went out, but I think both of us were wanting to cut the evening short and get on to the important stuff. We came back to my place, and I didn't see mom, so I assumed she was in her bedroom wearing one of her teddys and some heels as we had planned. I wanted to take time to savor the fucking with Matt, and we started out a little slower than before. I mostly licked his cock rather than sucking it which some men like better anyway unless they're planning to cum in your mouth. I'd been into oral sex long before I lost my cherry, so I felt I was pretty good at it. No complaints from Matt as he groaned and humped my face. Then I got on my back on the bed with my knees up, and Matt got his head between my thighs and sucked and licked my pussy. I was humping, gasping, and moaning, and I needed to be fucked now. I pulled him up, and he got his cock head against my pussy lips and moved it around. Juice was leaking from my fuck hole, and he finally rammed it in me. I lifted my ass off the bed and humped 'til it was in up to the balls. I circled my ass as he fucked it to me, and I think we may have been planning to go a little slower, but we were both caught up in it now. "It feels so good, baby. Fuck me. Cum in me," I moaned. "I'm going to fuck your tight pussy 'til you cum," he gasped. I felt the heat rising in my cunt as his cock head swelled, and his hot cum triggered my orgasm. I thrust my hips against him and writhed and bucked as he filled my pussy. I knew Matt would be back, but I hoped I hadn't worn him down too much for my mom. We relaxed and stroked each other, and his cock did start to rise. This was a young athletic guy, and I need not have worried about wearing him down. When he was mostly hard, we did the same routine as before. He got his shorts on, and I led him into mom's room. She looked good as she lay propped up on the bed in her teddy and the heels. She smiled at Matt and he smiled back. "See you guys later," I said as I eased out the door, but I just pushed it to as I had planned. As soon as I felt they'd had time to get into it I carefully moved back to the door and pushed it open slightly. Mom was sucking his dick, and he had one hand on the back of her head and was gasping and urging her on. She was trying to deep throat his big cock as much as she could, and she sucked hard as she came back up. I hoped she didn't try to do this too long, and just then she traded places with him and got on the edge of the bed with her haunches drawn up. Her tits, ass and everything were more voluptuous than mine, and she made an erotic picture spread this way with her pussy hole gapping open slightly. Matt went right for the hole and slid his tongue deep inside her. She gasped and I gasped for her. Now she got her hand on the back of his head and writhed as he sucked and fingered her. My breathing quickened, and I stroked my tit and one hand drifted down to my crotch. I hadn't counted on this. It was not my deal, but I was getting into it anyway. She whispered, "Give it to me. Fuck me," and he laid her out on the bed and moved her legs up with his arms. Her ass was up this way as he got his cock head at the entrance to her fuck hole. He eased it into her cunt, and I saw her pussy lips stretch to take him. He moved it around in her a few seconds, and when he pulled back his shaft was wet from her juices and her pussy lips were gripping around it. She moaned as he started to fuck his cock in and out of her. Slowly at first, and then picking up speed. She made little cries as his dick was pounding her, and in this position his balls and thighs were making a slap, slap sound against her ass. Then he got her ass up even more, and he was grunting as his cock was going into her almost vertical. With each stroke he was pulling his eight inches almost all the way out and then back down hard. Her cries were getting louder. I couldn't help it. My panties were down to my knees, and I was stroking my clit. They moaned and cried out as they reached their climaxes, and I stifled my cries as I came too. Mom was doing fine it seemed to me. Matt obviously liked the mature pussy, and I knew mom liked the young stud cock. I went out with Ron, and he rang my sexual bell again. He seemed impressed with the results of my makeover. Ron was 21 and a student at the university I would be transferring to very soon. We seemed to have something going besides the sex, and I decided to save him for myself. Mom was inspired now and got herself a mature boyfriend. Before I left for the university I had Matt promise to go over now and then and give her a "tune up". Inspiring Mom The look on my mother's face was a mixture of sadness and frustration. She had just gotten off the phone with her agent, and apparently her latest book sales weren't going so well. Judging by the look on her face, her latest book sales were terrible. All her life she wanted to be a novelist. When dad left, my mother tried writing stories for extra income. Then she got a publishing deal. When her book sales were good, she decided to quit her job as an accountant to concentrate on writing. I had never seen her so happy. Now, she was in a slump. "Are you okay?" I asked when I saw her walking down the hall. "I'm fine," she sighed. We walked passed each other and she held her head down. I felt sad for her. Things weren't much better at night when we had dinner. I could tell she was trying to put on a brave face. I didn't want to ask about any of her troubles because I knew she didn't want to talk about it. I figured that if she wanted to talk to me about something, then she would do it. *** The next morning. It was Friday and I didn't have a college class that day. I woke up around 10 and I saw my mother sitting by the dining table with a cup of coffee. Her phone was also on the table. I was expecting her to look depressed again, but instead, there was a curious look on her face. She was pondering something. "Morning," I said. She ended her reflective gaze after realizing I was there. "Morning. Want some coffee?" "No thanks." I reached for a spoon and bowl, and I prepared my cereal when I sat down by the table. My mother still seemed to be in a reflective state as I poured the milk over my cereal. I had never seen that expression on my mother's face before. "I spoke with my agent a few minutes ago," she said, still pondering. "We had an interesting conversation." "What about?" I asked, taking a bite of my cereal. "She suggested that I try writing erotica. As in, erotic stories. Can you believe it?" I nearly spit the cereal out of my mouth. It was the last thing I ever would have expected to hear. Judging by the look on her face, it appeared she was seriously considering it. "What was your response?" "I told her I'd consider it. It might be refreshing to write something different for a change. Besides, my last few books haven't sold very well." "So this means you're actually going to do it?" She squinted her eyes playfully. "You're looking at me like I'm crazy? What's the matter? You don't think I could do it?" "No, of course you can." "Then are you embarrassed that I would write about sex? Or maybe it would be awkward for you?" "No. It's not that." "Then what is it?" she asked. "It's just that...you're you. No offense, but you don't seem like the type." "Then who is? Look at all of the erotic authors out there. They're not exactly Hollywood sex symbols. They're writers. Plain old average writers. My point is, anyone can do it." "That makes sense," I acknowledged. "Does this mean I have your permission to become an erotic author?" "You're asking me for permission?" "Well, not really," she replied. "I'm just trying to be understanding of your position. I don't want to embarrass you in any way." "It wouldn't embarrass me at all. And it's not like anyone at college knows that my mother is a famous author." "Is that a yes?" she asked with a faint sense of enthusiasm. "You don't need my permission, mom. Write about whatever you want." "Thank you. I'm not saying that I'm actually going to do it. It's just an option which I'm considering. It might be nice to write about something different. I don't know, maybe my work was starting to become stale." "I think you're a great writer." She smiled at me, "Your opinion is all that matters." "My opinion doesn't pay the bills though," I joked. She gave me a playful motherly expression, as if to say that I was right, but that I ruined a tender moment between us. I could tell from the look in my mother's eyes that she had already made a decision. Maybe she didn't realize it yet. But I knew she made up her mind. There was nothing my mother loved more than a challenge. And writing erotica seemed like a major challenge for her. Most of all, she loved writing stories that people would read. She went back to drinking her coffee when I suddenly realized that she was right. If my mother wrote erotic stories, it would be kind of awkward between us. She usually showed me story drafts she had been working on to get my opinion, and I always gave her honest answers. I've read all of her books. I love to read. But could I actually read her erotic stories? How awkward would that be? It was an odd thought, knowing that I could potentially read my mother's dirty fantasies along with anyone else who purchased her book. ***** For the next few days I watched my mother wrestle with her decision. She was always an indecisive person. But I already knew that she would agree with her agent to write erotic stories. When mom finally told me that she was going to do it, I tried my best to act surprised. My mother is a different person when she writes a novel. She becomes more focused. She spends less time on other hobbies. Everything in her world revolves around the story that she's working on (and me of course). She even does extensive research for each story she writes. Most of the time she becomes an expert of the subject matter she writes about. So I was especially curious to see if she would do any research on her first erotic novel. Days passed. Then weeks. My mother was in full work mode. Whenever I came home from a college class, she would usually be in her room typing on her computer. When we ate together, I could tell by the look in her eyes that she was still contemplating her story. She never showed me what she was working on. She never talked about it. And I never asked. It was way too awkward to even discuss, and we both understood that to some degree. One afternoon I saw her gazing through the backyard window with a cup of tea in her hand. It's what she normally did if she needed a break or was struggling with certain plot points. "This is a lot harder than I expected," she said, still facing the window. "What do you mean?" All I wanted was a glass of juice from the refrigerator, and at that moment, I knew I was stuck listening to my mother vent her frustrations. She turned to look at me. "Writing sex scenes. Gosh they're hard." I nearly dropped the glass onto the floor when she mentioned sex. It was going to be an awkward conversation, but deep down, it was kind of exciting in a weird way hearing her talk about sex. "It can't be that hard," I said. "Just do what you normally do. It's all about imagination, right?" "Yeah, but I like to put myself in the shoes of the character. That's when I do my best writing. It's more realistic and riveting that way. With erotica, gosh, I'm not that kind of person." I shrugged. "Well I guess it's not for everyone to write." "Are you saying I should quit?" There was a sharpened motherly look in her eyes, and I instantly knew that I made a misstep. I immediately tried to reverse course. "That's not what I'm saying," I replied smoothly. "I meant that some topics are harder to write than others." "Oh. You're right about that." "So are you going to continue the story?" I asked. She nodded. "Definitely. I'm just stuck at the moment." "Anything I could do to help?" My mother suddenly gave me a strange look, as if a light bulb had went off in her head and she had a brilliant idea. It was only an off-hand comment. I always offered to help my mother, and she usually refused, which is why I always offered to help. But there was a look in her eyes which showed that she may have wanted me to do something important. "Are you actually interested in helping?" she asked in a sincere tone. "I don't want to bother you. I know you're busy with college and in your social life." The tone in her voice clearly showed that she wanted me to say yes. "Mom, of course I'll help you. What kind of person do you think I am?" She smiled, "Great. I may have to accept your offer. But not now. I'll think of something though." My mother's smile said it all. She had already made up her mind that she was going to use my help. I just didn't know how I could help my mother write an erotic story. I hoped she wasn't going to ask me to help her write, because my writing wasn't nearly as good as hers. And I also hoped she wouldn't ask me for story advice, because I'm not very creative. I've never read erotica either. I mostly watch porn videos online. *** Saturday morning. I didn't have anything planned for the day except relaxing and being lazy at home. I earned it from working so hard in college during the week. I woke up and headed down the stairs for breakfast. I smelled my mother cooking something. The dining table was neatly prepared and everything was almost ready to eat. She put hot food onto the plates, directly from the hot stove. "Right on time," she said happily. "Everything is freshly prepared." "What's the occasion?" She gave me an offended look. "Can't I do anything nice for you without their being a condition?" "Sorry. This looks great." We both sat down and began to eat. I told her how good the food was. She made everything a guy could want for breakfast, including some extras. She was being more polite than usual. It was like the story wasn't even on her mind, which I knew it was. Just the day before she was struggling with her novel. Suddenly it seemed like she was in a care free mood. I leaned back against my chair after I finished. I was really full. "About that favor you offered yesterday," she said calmly. "Do you think you can help me after breakfast?" "I thought you were offended when I suggested that there was a condition?" "Well, you were right. Are you still interested in giving me a hand?" "Of course." She smiled, "Perfect. I'll clean the dishes and I'll meet you in the living room in about 30 minutes. I need to get some stuff organized first. Okay?" "Sure." I helped my mother put everything away and she washed the dishes. Then I waited in the living room watching tv while my mother was doing something in her bedroom. The anticipation was growing. I couldn't figure out what she wanted, but it must have been something pretty important. My mother finally came to the living room dressed in a casual tshirt and sweat pants. I turned off the tv and waited for whatever she had to say. "Stand up," she said. I did what she asked and stood. "Okay." "You know that I'm a very visual person right?" she stated. "I can't write about characters unless I can visualize the scenario. The reason I'm having such a hard time writing an erotic story is because I can't relate to the characters. So, that's where you come in." I was taken aback. "I don't get it. What exactly do you want me to do?" "Nothing really. Just stand here and let me touch you. Is that okay?" I was even more taken aback. "I still don't get it." "It's hard for me to explain, but in order for me to write detailed descriptions, I need the right feelings. When I write about things like heartache, loss, happiness, or love, I think back to my own experiences. The problem here is that I've never experienced what I'm writing about." "But you've done it before," I said uncomfortably. "It's not like you've never, you know, been with a guy." She nodded. "I know. Obviously I've had sex, but I've never experienced the particular feelings that I want to write about. That's where you come in." My eyes suddenly widened. "Oh..." She nearly laughed. "That came out totally wrong. Relax. I'm not going to have sex with you. All I need is for you to stand still. That's all." "Oh. Okay." "Think of a method actor who stays in character all the time in order to shoot great scenes. I'm kind of the same way with my writing. The more I inhabit the characters, the more I can write their feelings. Does that make sense at all?" I nodded. "Now it's making sense. Do whatever you need. I don't mind." My mother thought for a moment. She looked at my body and contemplated what to do. Or maybe she realized that the situation was really awkward between us. "I'll stand behind you, and I'll hold you," she said. "It's something that my character would do. There's romance in the story, obviously. Are you okay with that?" "Sure." "Great. I just need to feel how my character would feel. Then I'll go to my room and write about it. Then we're done," she smiled. I nodded. "Sounds good." My mother walked behind me and I immediately felt her hands on my back. It felt nice. She has a soft touch. Her hands continued rubbing my back through my tshirt. Then she hugged me. It was a soft hug at first, the kind she had given me thousands of times before, but then she squeezed. It became the kind of hug that an intimate couple would share. It felt great. Things started off fine. But then I felt my mother really begin to press her chest against my back. I felt her breasts rubbing softly against me. It felt stimulating. Her breasts felt soft and shapely. They were a nice size. I never thought that I would feel them so intimately, even if it was against my back. I enjoyed it. My biggest fear was that I would have a full erection and my mother would see it. How awkward would that be? Before an erection came, my mother ended her touch. She gently released the hug and took a step back. I turned around to look at her. "Thank you," she said politely. "Now I've got the inspiration I need." "I'm glad I could help." I glanced down swiftly at her chest. Her nipples had become hard and they were poking through her small tshirt. Did my mother become aroused? Or maybe she just has huge nipples which appeared because they were pressed tightly against my back? Whatever the reason, she looked really sexy. She smiled and pinched my cheek before leaving to work on her story. She seemed enthusiastic, like she had some great thoughts to write about. I couldn't help but look at her ass when she walked up the stairs. ***** The week had passed and my mother never mentioned my 'assistance' for her story writing, but it seemed to have worked. She spent much of her time typing away on her computer. I wondered how much I had actually helped her. Her concept of method writing seemed a little strange to me, but then again, I'm not a writer, she is. Who am I to question her? Her novels were always well written and earned great reviews, even though they didn't always become hits. I watched tv in the living room when my mother came down the stairs. She wore a thin sweater, sweat pants, and she was barefoot. It was her usual look whenever she worked on a new novel. She sat next to me on the couch. "Anything interesting?" she asked, with her eyes on the tv. "Horror stuff. Nothing you'd be interested in." An action scene occurred in the movie I was watching and my mother turned her head away. She never liked that sort of thing. "You're right," she said is disgust. "Thankfully I didn't come here to watch tv with you. I just got off the phone with my agent." Those words quickly grabbed my attention. "Oh yeah? What did she say?" "I emailed her all of the work I've done so far. She loves it. She forwarded the material to the publishing office. They love it too." "Wow. That's great!" She suddenly looked coy. "There's good news and bad news." "What's the good news?" I asked. "Well, the good news is that the publishers love my work so much, that they want more of it. They're even asking me to write short erotic stories for an upcoming compilation book that they're putting together." "And the bad news?" I asked again. "There's a few things you don't need to know about yet," she said hesitantly. "But for now, I'm running low on steam when it comes to sex. I've written some things these past few days, but everything is becoming redundant. It's like I'm stuck in a rut. It's a tough subject for me to write about." It was obvious that she wanted to use me for inspiration again. Sure it felt weird the first time, but it also felt really good. A large part of me couldn't wait to do it again. "So what are you saying?" I asked, playing dumb. She flashed a helpless and feminine look. "I was hoping you could do me another favor and be my assistant again. Are you up for it?" "Only if you need me too." She smiled, "You're my new good-luck charm. The last time I touched you, the words started flowing and I wrote some exciting stuff. I think we'll need to do it again." "Whatever helps." "Give me a few minutes. I'll be right back." My mother went to her bedroom in an excited manner. She acted like she had just won a prize. For 20 minutes I waited. I had no clue what she was doing. But then again, her methods for writing had always been unorthodox. She always wrote her stories in her own particular way. That's what made her novels so unique. When she finally came down the stairs, she was still barefoot in the same sweat pants, but this time, she wasn't wearing her sweater. She wore a thin tshirt, and I could tell she wasn't wearing a bra, which was very exciting for me. I could faintly see the shape of her breasts, but unfortunately her nipples weren't protruding like the last time. She also held a large yellow notepad in her hand along with a pen. She came prepared this time. "I'm ready now," she smiled, putting the notepad down on the couch. I stood up and we were face-to-face. "Same position?" I asked. "If you don't mind, I want something a little more risque this time." "No problem." "Are you sure you don't mind? I feel bad for doing this to you." "It's no problem," I reassured. She smiled, "Great. I'll hug you from the front this time. We'll hold the position for a while until I start thinking of ways to describe it. Then I'll write down whatever comes to mind. Sound okay?" "That sounds like a plan." My mother took a step forward and she slowly put her hands around me. We were no strangers to hugs. We hugged all the time. But this was much more intimate. She did everything slow. I could tell that my mother was looking at things through the perspective of the character she was writing. It was the way she worked, and I was taking full advantage of it, feeling her soft breasts against my chest. She held me tight and her hands caressed my back. Her breasts were firmly rubbing against my chest. I could tell she was doing it on purpose. She was using me as a way to get herself aroused. Her face pressed against me also. Her hands continued rubbing. Suddenly she stopped and released the hug. Then she quickly went to her notepad and scribbled down a bunch of her thoughts as fast as she possibly could. It was almost like a race. I had never seen a person write so fast, and I'm sure it must have been really sloppy. "Perfect," she said to herself with a sense of satisfaction. "Did you get what you wanted?" "Almost. I think we can do a little more today so I won't have to bother you again later." "That makes sense." My mother approached me again and gave me another big hug. I never got tired of feeling her breasts. This time, she rubbed her face on my chest. I felt her nose, cheeks, and lips pressing tightly against my tshirt. I found myself becoming aroused. Oh god! I was getting hard. No! Her body slowly moved, side to side. Her breasts were pressed tightly against me. Her face continued to rub against my chest. I got a full hard on. A raging one. When my mother continued moving around, the top of her thigh brushed against my erection. She felt it! Then she pressed it again with her leg, just to be sure. Inspiring Mom My mother lifted her face from my chest and looked me straight in the eyes. It was humiliating. She knew. I couldn't tell if she was aroused or disgusted at me. "I think we've done enough for today," she said, leaning back. "Oh...ummm...sorry about that." "You have nothing to be sorry for. Thanks again. You've been such a big help." When she took a step back, my eyes briefly glanced down at her chest to see both of her big nipples poking through her tshirt again. She was aroused too. Somewhere during the process, she became aroused enough to make her nipples stiff. She took her notepad and went back to her bedroom. I watched her ass while she headed up the stairs. I was aroused and humiliated, both at the same time. *** Dinner was mostly quiet that night. I still felt embarrassed that she felt my erection, but I'm sure she understood. Deep down, it was kind of worth it. Feeling her tits against my body for a long period of time was fantastic. I've always loved older women, but I never had a chance to be with one. "My writing went well today," my mother said before taking another bite of her food. "That's great." "I couldn't have done it without you. You did an excellent job as my helper. Really, you did." In a way, my mother's response felt like she was being patronizing towards me because I had an erection during our artistic encounter. It felt like she was telling me that I was being unprofessional in some way. "Sorry about that," I said. "It was an accident. Can you blame me?" "What are you talking about?" she asked with a puzzled expression. I realized that I made a huge mistake bringing it up. As it turned out, the erection wasn't even on my mother's mind. "Oh, never mind." "Tell me," she insisted. "You know, earlier when we hugged. Before you left..." A slight grin appeared on her face. "That's perfectly natural. Don't worry about it. I've been to plenty of nude art classes and I've seen a bunch of men get erections while they were posing. It just means you're a healthy young man." "Yeah but...you're...you're..." "I'm your mother?" she smiled. "Is that what you're trying to say? Are you ashamed because I made you stiff?" "God, this is so embarrassing." "I like that we're being honest." "I'm sure you do." She paused and thought for a moment. "Look, I haven't been totally honest with you. Remember I said that I'm going to be a writing a short story for a compilation book? I've told you it's an erotic story, and it is. But I didn't tell you what kind of erotic story it is." "I didn't even know that there are differences." "There are. I was asked to write an incest story, and I accepted the offer. So I was working on that these past few days." All the embarrassment I had been feeling suddenly left my body. I was becoming aroused- and fast. My prim & proper mother writing sex stories was one thing, but her writing about family members having sex? That was something that sent a jolt down my spine. "How is it coming along?" I asked. "Better than I expected," she slightly nodded. "It took some time getting used to. But when we hugged, the feelings came through and I knew exactly how to write it." "So you were actually aroused?" I asked bluntly, before immediately regretting it. Her eyes sharpened. "It's part of my job. I try to inhabit the minds of my characters so I can properly write their feelings." "I could tell. You were poking out of your tshirt." My mother looked slightly mortified. "Really? It was that noticeable?" "They were pretty big." She shrugged. "Family genes I suppose. We shouldn't be talking about this." "Does that mean we won't, you know, be doing this anymore?" "I didn't say that. Frankly, I'm not sure. I may need your help again if I get stuck in another rut. We'll see how everything goes." With that said, my mother returned to eating. She genuinely had no clue. Neither did I. But deep down, I knew I wanted it to continue. I think my mother wanted to also. ***** My hopes were slowly fading as another week had passed. She continued working on her writings, and I continued with another week of difficult college courses. Life went on as usual. On a Friday night I got an email from my mother who was just down the hall. She never mentioned anything about an email when we had dinner together that night. When I opened the email, I understood why she never said anything. The email contained several files of stories my mother had been working on. They were too much to read at once. But I was interested in reading some of it. In some perverted way, it was exciting to read erotic stories that my mother had written. I was curious to see what sexual fantasies she had. It took me nearly an hour to read the mother/son story she was working on. I read it slowly. I wanted to take everything in. The story was written from the mom's perspective. It was incredibly detailed. What struck me about it the most was that the characters were a lot like my mother and I. It was almost a splitting image of us. It was like she had written about our lives, but only she added sexual tension to it. The build up to the story was a lot of hugging and kissing. She must have gotten that inspiration from when we touched. That's when the story ended. The main climax hadn't been completed yet. I wondered if that's why she emailed me what she had been working on. Maybe she wanted another favor? Maybe she wanted to explore things a little deeper? Whatever the case. I was more than willing. *** The next morning my mother prepared a large breakfast. It was exactly what I had expected. She wanted something from me. I figured she wanted to touch me again, to use me for her inspiration. She greeted me with a loving smile the moment she saw me. I did the same in return. We ate together as if nothing was out of the ordinary. When we finished, she finally made the proposal: "I need your help again," she said bluntly. "It might be the last time. No promises. Are you interested?" "Anything to help." She winked at me. "I'm glad. I was afraid you would turn me down." "Why would I do that?" "Because of the bad experience before." "I wouldn't call that a bad experience," I clarified. "Just an embarrassing one." She smiled, "Did you read the material I emailed you last night?" "There was a lot, but I read as much as I could." "What did you think?" "The short one was really good. I'm assuming that's the one you need inspiration for." She nodded. "It's a very tricky subject. And it's extremely taboo. I want to get it right. I want to get the feelings right. I'm trying to write a story about a conflicted woman. In order to do that, I'll need to step into those shoes." "I'd probably be a straight-A student if I had your dedication," I joked to lighten the mood. "I'd love to help. Whatever you need, I'll do it." "How far are you willing to go?" she asked with a sudden shyness. There was an awkward pause for a brief moment. The look in her eyes showed the passion and dedication to her work. She was willing to go far. But I didn't know exactly what she had in mind. "It's up to you," I replied. "Look, you don't have to do anything you aren't comfortable with. I have a performance art background. I used to do plays and art shows when I was in college. So it's different for me. If you're uncomfortable, promise to let me know. Okay?" I nodded. "Okay mom." She looked away from me as she stood up. Then she collected both of our plates and took them to the sink. There was a sudden seriousness to her mood. I knew she wanted to take things much further. *** I waited for my mother in the living room. This time, she must have taken at least half an hour to show up. The excitement started to fade and I was slowly becoming bored waiting. That changed the moment I saw my mother coming down the stairs. She looked cute in a tshirt and sweat pants. Her hair was tied in a pony tale. She held a notepad with one hand, and a piece of cloth in her other hand. She looked enthusiastic in her search for new inspiration. "You look great," I noted. "Thanks. I feel great." I stood up and she put her notepad down on the couch. She started folding the cloth in her hand. "What's that for?" I asked. "I'm going to blindfold you," she said casually. "I don't want you to see certain things." "Blindfold me? Do you really need to do that?" "Yes. You said you were willing to do whatever I wanted. Well, this is what I want." "Why?" She sighed, "Because I don't want you to see my tits." My eyes widened and I tried not to let my jaw hit the floor. The look on my mother's face was priceless as she giggled at my reaction. "You're taking them out?" I asked like a dummy. "Don't worry about it. You aren't going to see them. Just do what I say." She stood in front of me with the folded cloth in her hand, and she used it to cover my eyes. Then she tied it behind my head. I was completely blinded. I heard the noises of clothes being shuffled around. She must have taken off her tshirt at that point. I would have given anything for a peak. I tried to look through the bottom of the blindfold, but to no avail. I felt desperate and horny. "Are you ready?" she asked. "Yes," I replied, even though I didn't know what she was talking about. My mother grabbed my right hand and brought it to her chest. My palm was open and I touched her bare breast. I heard my mother gasp when I touched her. I was instantly aroused. Her breast felt soft, which is what I expected since she's a middle aged woman. Her nipple felt large as it pressed against my palm. "Move your hand around," she said. "Explore it." The first thing that came to mind was her nipple. I wanted to touch it with my fingers, and I did. It was large and stiff. I pinched it gently. I wondered what color it was. Then I cupped her breast in my hand, wondering what she was thinking. My cock was completely hard at that point. It must have been bulging through my shorts. But I didn't care. The only thing I cared about was feeling my mother's tit in my hand. To my complete surprise, I felt my mother's hand touch my erection through my shorts. At first I thought it was a mistake. But then she began to rub it. Then she grabbed it. I became even stiffer. I fondled her breast even more. I needed sexual relief so bad. Before we could progress, my mother suddenly stopped. She released her hold of my cock, and I lost grip of her breast when she walked away. I heard my mother scribbling in a rapid pace on her notepad. I'm sure she had a flood of new feelings to write about. Unfortunately, I heard the sound of clothes ruffling again and I knew she put her top back on. She untied the blindfold and I got to see her. The look on her face showed excitement, like she had just done something dirty. There was a gleam in her eyes. I could tell she was aroused. I looked down at her chest and saw that her big nipples were poking through her tshirt again. "You're the best," she smiled. She took the cloth & notebook and then she left. This time, the sweat pants she wore was much smaller, and I was able to get a better look at her ass when she headed up the stairs. All I could do was go to my room and masturbate to relieve the incredible sexual tension I felt. *** Late that night. My mother emailed me again. She sent me an updated version of the incest story she had been working on. I read it immediately. It contained all of the things we had done earlier that day. It told the story of a son who touched his mother's breasts, and a mother who touched her son's erection in return. It contained a lot of sensory and emotional details, which my mother must have felt when we had our encounter earlier. I was aroused after reading my mother's story, not just because it was a good story, but because my mother wrote it. I tried to imagine what went through my mother's mind. I wondered if she thought of me when she wrote that scene. I masturbated again, thinking of how her breast felt. Her hard nipple felt heavenly in my hand, and I knew I wanted to continue things with my mother. *** The next morning. When I went down the stairs for breakfast, I saw my mother sitting by the dining table wearing a simple white robe, reading the newspaper. She was drinking a cup of coffee and her legs were crossed, with one foot pointed in the air. She looked sexy. It was rare that she would step out of her bedroom wearing only a robe. She normally liked to be dressed appropriately. We said hello to each other as I got my cereal. When I sat down, I got a better look at my mother as she continued reading the newspaper. Her robe was only loosely tied. I almost saw the middle of her chest. If I didn't know any better, I would say that she wasn't wearing anything underneath. "I read the stuff you wrote last night," I said when I sat. My mother put the newspaper down. "And?" "I thought it was great. You're a very talented writer." "Thank you. I try my best." "Seriously, it was great. I could tell you put a lot of thought into it. You really inhabited the main character when you wrote about it." "That's the goal." My mother leaned back in her chair and continued reading the newspaper. Her legs were still crossed and her body was turned to the side. Her loosely tied robe opened a little bit. I saw more of her chest. I was positive she was doing it on purpose. I ate breakfast and tried not to stare. I didn't want to get caught looking. She took another sip of her coffee and her robe opened a little further. I had a slightly better view of her chest and it was driving me crazy. "You're doing this on purpose," I said. "Aren't you?" She put the newspaper down. "What are you talking about?" "Your robe." She looked down at her opening robe, and then she adjusted it, closing it tightly. "Oh, thanks for the warning," she said. "That was a close call." "Did you like having me look at you?" "What do you mean?" "Nevermind," I replied. "I shouldn't have said anything." She paused for a moment. "I'll answer your question on one condition." "Sure." "I want to know if you enjoyed looking at me just now. And yesterday? Did you enjoy that too?" "Yes," I admitted. "Were you showing me on purpose? Was it for your story?" "It's for my story. But I also enjoy it. It's fun being desired. I miss that feeling." I found myself becoming aroused when my mother admitted that she enjoyed everything that we had been doing together. It wasn't much of a big surprise, but it was sexy to hear her say it. "Which part did you like the most?" I asked. "Having you touch my breast yesterday. And you?" "Same thing." She slightly nodded. "Look, I know these past few days have been very strange for us. I would never ask you to do something that would make you uncomfortable. And I would never jeopardize our relationship for the sake of a story. So if you want to put an end to this, I would understand." "When I told you that I would help, I meant it. And I always keep a promise." "No matter what?" she asked with an eyebrow raised. "No matter what." My mother got up and stood in front of me. I sat back in my chair, knowing that breakfast wasn't very important anymore. Before I could wonder what she was doing, I watched my mother open her white robe. She wore panties, but nothing else. Her breasts were bare, and they were mere inches away from my face. They were average sized and they sagged. Her nipples were as large as I had expected. They were thick and poking out. They were a shade of dark pink. She looked like a stunning middle aged woman. "Touch them," she said. I didn't need to be told twice. I reached up with both hands and cupped both breasts. They were soft and reflected her age. I played with both of her nipples, pinching them, making them even harder. She reached down with one hand and squeezed my ever-growing erection through my shorts. My mother got down on her knees, which released the hold I had on her breasts. I let my mother do whatever she wanted. She pulled the front of my shorts down. My cock was completely exposed. She looked at it for a moment. I couldn't tell if she was still doing things from the character's perspective in her story, or for her own personal satisfaction. Maybe it was both. She rubbed my bare cock with her hands. I've always enjoyed feeling a woman's touch. But her's was extra special. Maybe it was because she has soft mature hands. Maybe it was because she was my own mother, which added a whole new layer of taboo. Maybe it was both. Before I could get used to the feeling of my mother rubbing me, she bent her head down and took my cock inside of her mouth. She immediately went to work sucking on it, and bobbing her head. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. My own prim & proper mother was actually sucking my cock. It felt amazing. She was an expert cock sucker. Who knew? Her mouth was warm and wet. Her tongue licked circles around the head of my cock. Her lips were wrapped tightly around my shaft as her head bobbed. One of her hands stroked my shaft. Her other hand caressed my balls. I became excited thinking that I would cum in her mouth. But suddenly, she stopped. "We shouldn't go any further than this," she said, tucking my wet cock back inside my shorts. "Thank you. You've been a big help to me." With that said, my mother stood up and closed her robe. She took her cup of coffee and headed up the stairs. *** My cock was absolutely aching. I was in desperate need of relief. And my mother had just left me high & dry. I went up the stairs to see what she was doing. Maybe she would change her mind? Her bedroom door was wide open. I saw her robe laid across the bed. She sat in front of her computer and typed away. She sat naked except for her panties. She continued typing, even as she heard me approach her from behind. It was understandable since she didn't want to lose her important train of thought. I reached down and cupped both of her breasts as she continued to type. "What are you doing?" she asked, with her eyes still on the computer, and her fingers still typing. "What do you think I'm doing?" My mother suddenly stopped typing and stood up. She turned towards me so that we were face-to-face. "Do you really want this?" she asked, looking me in the eyes. "You realize that things will never be the same again, right?" "I know." She grabbed me by the neck and kissed me on the lips. We kissed each other passionately. We gave each other a wet tongue kiss. Our lips and mouths were intertwined, and it felt wonderful. She ended the kiss and we looked in each others eyes. "What now?" I asked. "Follow my lead." She went to her bed and laid on her back. Her feet were pointed towards me, and her legs were open. I knew exactly what she wanted me to do. I pulled her panties off and threw them to the side. She opened her legs further and I saw her beautiful pussy. Her labia was thick, and it was almost shaped like a butterfly. It flared around the sides. It was a dark shade of brown, which was in sharp contrast to the pinkness of her pussy. She was dripping wet. She was soaked. It was obvious that she was incredibly aroused from everything we had been doing. My mother's pussy was gorgeous. My hands rubbed the outer layer of her labia. Then I gave the outside of her pussy a kiss, then a few more. I took each side of her labia in my mouth and I sucked them. She moaned. Whatever I was doing, she approved. Then I pushed my tongue inside of her pussy, tasting her warm fluids. She tasted good. Her moans became louder. My tongue went up & down her pussy, and around her swollen clitoris. She cried. Inspiring Mom "I want you inside me," she said, with her voice filled with lust. "Take me." She didn't need to ask twice. I stood up and pulled my tshirt and shorts off so that we were both naked. I got between her legs and I guided my cock towards her pussy. After a soft thrust, I was inside. She felt warm and inviting. Her pussy was drenched in fluids. We held hands and looked each other in the eyes as we began to have sex. "You feel so good," I said. Her hands felt soft. The skin on her body felt soft. Her pussy felt soft. Everything about her felt soft. That's what I loved about older women. It felt exactly like I imagined, only far more taboo since it was with my own mother. I looked closely at her face. We were only centimeters apart as we were having hot passionate sex with each other, and I was thrusting my hard cock in her. She smiled playfully, "I can't believe this is happening...My own son..." While she was smiling, I observed the facial changes she was making. She wasn't wearing any cosmetics. I was looking at her natural skin up close. Every wrinkle on her face was on full display, which I thought was really sexy. The harder I went, the more her eyebrows started to shift around. Her eyelids flickered as well. Her cute little nose wiggled around slightly. Her lips quivered. It was a surreal sight to see my proper mother with a face full of lust. Before long, as I continued to pump my cock into her, her face changed to show her impending orgasm. Her lips quivered even faster. Her eyes widened like she was in shock. It was as if she couldn't believe that I was actually fucking her. Her back suddenly arched. Her hands held me tightly, with a strength I never knew she had. She screamed at the top of her lungs. She came, and the facial expression she made showed just how good it was. I followed her lead and came deep inside of her. I shot several loads of cum in her pussy, until I was completely spent. When it was over, I laid on top of my mother's naked body. We were both breathing heavily. I could feel sweat begin to form on her chest. "I had no idea you were such a stud," she joked, breathing hard. "Neither did I," I joked back. "Excuse me for a second." My mother pushed me away and she quickly ran to the computer. She typed fast. Faster than I had ever seen before. I wondered if she had just fucked me for more inspiration, or for her own sexual satisfaction. The giant wet spot she left on the bed gave me the answer. ***** Several months later. My mother sat in front of her dresser wearing a classy black dress. Her hair was nicely done and she was putting the finishing touches on her make-up. She was headed to a party & book signing to celebrate the release of her first erotic novel. "You look nice," I said, walking up behind her. My mother continued putting the final touches on her elegant appearance. "That's it? Just nice?" "Every man in the room is going to want you. Better?" "Better," she smiled. "You know, I couldn't be happier right now. I'm proud of the work I've done. The work we've done." I bent down and kissed her on the shoulder as I rubbed her arms. Then I kissed her neck, and then the side of her cheek. She continued looking at herself in the mirror, while I was behind her. "You did all of the work," I said in between kisses. "Watch the make-up. I don't want to reapply it. And I don't think you want it on your lips either." "Isn't there something we could do?" I asked suggestively. She brought my hands to her breasts. "There's always something for us." My hands fondled and squeezed her breasts as she continued to look herself in the mirror. I could tell by the look on her face that she was quickly getting aroused. Her emotions were always easy to interpret. Especially her sexual emotions. "Don't wrinkle my dress," she said, standing up. I pushed the chair away and positioned myself behind her. My mother bent over the dresser, with her face close to the mirror. I lifted the back of her black dress and pulled her panties down. When I touched her pussy, I felt that she was wet. When I put two fingers inside of her, she moaned at her refection in the mirror. I pulled my shorts down and pressed the tip of my cock against her hot pussy. It was always easy to enter her when she's wet. I squeezed her hips tightly and began to fuck. Time was of the essence and things had to be quick. My mother had an important place to be and she needed to leave soon. So I had to make sure that both of us orgasmed as fast as possible. Each thrust was powerful and fast. Our sexual urges were strong. I looked at my mother's face in the mirror and her mouth was wide open. Her body jerked back & forth from each thrust I gave her. Her body bounced so much that her tits began to spill out of her dress, and I was able to get a good look at her giant pink nipples in the mirror. The harder we fucked, the more her tits came out. It was always a treat to see my mother's sagging breasts swaying back & forth during sex. That was one of the major perks of having sex with an older woman. I squeezed both of her shoulders and thrusted faster and faster. I came, just as she screamed. I watched her face in the mirror. Her mouth was wide open and her eyes nearly rolled back. She always had the best orgasm faces. I never got tired of seeing it. She looked particularly erotic given how well she dolled herself up for the night. As always, it took us a moment to recover from our sexual encounter. It felt so good, my body was nearly trembling. My mother stood up straight, which pulled my wet flaccid cock out of her pussy. She grabbed two pieces of tissue and used it to wipe my cock for me. Then she grabbed more tissue and wiped between her legs. Then she pulled her panties up. "I need to go," she said, breathing a little heavy. "I wouldn't want to be late." "You're not going to wash up?" "Why would I?" she said suggestively, with an eyebrow raised. "You're awful," I smiled. She smiled back and gave me a kiss on the cheek. "Let's just hope that no one is able to smell your cum inside me. We can have sex again when I come home. After all, you're my inspiration." The End Your votes & comments are appreciated.