****** I Remember Mother by Joshua ******
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I Remember Mother


Yes, I remember mother. She was a beautiful bitch, and wanton.

She had cotton-blonde hair tumbling down to softly rounded shoulders, wide-set
green eyes, a slender nose, and lips made for kissing. Her breasts were full
and upthrusting above a slender waist, svelte hips, and long, straight legs.

I remember I was twelve years old and mother was giving me a bath in a tub of
hot, soapy water, and I was embarrassed to tears because I felt I was much too
big for her to be bathing that way. She had already scrubbed my neck, arms, and
torso, and was even then immersed in the soapy water up to her elbows, trying
to wash my crotch, and I was squirming around in the tub, making it difficult
for her.

After several minutes of struggling with me, she sat back on her heels,
frustrated, and blew a strand of hair off her forehead. "For pity's sake,
Jonathan!" she blurted. "How can I do a proper job of washing you when you're
all hunkered down in the tub like that? Stand up!"

Now, I hesitated to obey her, because I was aware that her ministrations around
in my crotch had given me a raging hard-on and I didn't want her to see it. She
sat there for a moment, waiting for me to mind, and got a little angry when I
didn't.

"Jonathan?" she asked. There was an edge to her voice, and I knew the tone. You
didn't disobey mother more than once. Not if you knew what was good for you.

I stood up slowly, shame-faced, water and soap suds sheeting down off my body,
and there - just inches in front of her face - was my rigid, young cock,
jutting straight out and swaying slightly from the movement.

Mother's eyes went wide in shock and her mouth fell open. "My word, Jonathan!"
she gasped. "I had no idea you were this well developed!"

She squinted at it curiously for a moment, then scooped up a handful of water
from the tub and trickled it over the length of my throbbing prick, rinsing off
the suds. She reached out then, hefted my hard balls in her hand, and wrapped
her fingers around the shaft. "My God," she breathed, "I believe you're bigger
than your father!"

Without another word, she pursed her lips, forced them over my swollen
cockhead, and pushed forward until the entire length of my turgid member was
buried in her mouth. The sensation of having her lips wrapped around me was so
overwhelming, I thought I was going to pass out.

Slowly - very slowly - she backed off until the head of my prick came out of
her mouth, and she sat back and looking up at me with something akin to awe in
her eyes. "You are!" she exclaimed. "You are bigger than your father! I would
never have believed it!"

I know she had never before even considered the idea of having sex with me, but
now, seeing the immense size of my cock, the incredible stiffness of it, and
considering my total lack of experience, a whole world of possibilities must
have opened up in her mind. Except for the servants, we were alone in the house
almost every day. Our privacy was absolutely assured on the second floor and -
with even a modicum of caution - no one would ever know.

Her face took on a very calculating look, and she squinted up at me. "Did you
like that, Jonathan?" she asked softly.

"Y ... yes, ma'am," I stammered, "I did."

"Would you like me to do it again?"

"Would you, mother?" I asked. And I remember that she smiled radiantly at my
words.

"Why, I'd be happy to!" she purred. She leaned forward again, swirled her
tongue lasciviously around the glistening head of my young manhood, then took
the entire length of it into her hot mouth again.

She backed off with agonizing slowness, just like before, except this time,
rather than letting the head of my cock come out of her mouth, she reversed her
direction and once more slid her lips smoothly down the length of my rock hard
shaft.

A wave of dizziness flooded up around me, my traitorous legs turned to tackrags
at the sensation her lips were giving me, and I found myself clutching her head
in order to maintain my balance. I could feel her tongue playing crazy games,
swabbing across the under-side of my prick, and she started bobbing her head
slowly back and forth.

My hands were riding her head as she moved on me and, out of some undeveloped
perversion, I slid my fingers down her cheeks to feel the sides of her
stretched lips, where my thick cock was sluicing in and out of her wonderful
mouth.

A mewling sound came from mother's throat and she started moving faster up and
down the length of my young rod. I knew, instinctively, that she enjoyed taking
me in her mouth, and that there would be many more episodes like this one. The
whole concept of pleasing her by the simple act of letting her suck my cock was
bizarre to me. Bizarre and tantalizing at the same time, because I was enjoying
having my prick buried in her mouth every bit as much as she liked having it
there.

My mind drifted off into some never-never land of tongues and lips and warm
wetness, of slurping sounds and fingers tangled in hair. My eyes slid shut
involuntarily and I started rocking my hips against her, thrusting deeper and
deeper into her mouth at every stroke.

I remember feeling a strange boiling sensation starting to build up behind my
hard balls and my body stiffened in alarm. Mother must have felt it because she
came off the end of my cock again and looked up at me with a question in her
eyes.

"What is it?" she asked softly.

"I don't know," I said dumbly, "I feel like I have to pee."

To my utter surprise, mother tipped her head back and laughed out loud; a high,
tinkly laugh, like sleigh bells in winter.

"It isn't pee, Jonathan," she said happily. "It's cum! You're getting ready to
cum for the first time in your life, and I'm so happy that it's going to be me
who receives it!"

I frowned. "I don't understand, mother. What's cum?"

"Well, it's a thick, white liquid that squirts out of your cock when you get
very, very excited. It means you're a man in your own right."

"Really?" I asked.

"Yes, really. Now, then, when you get that feeling again - and you will - I
want you to hold back for as long as you possibly can, do you understand? Then,
when you can't stand it anymore ... why, just let it go."

"In your mouth, mother?" I asked incredulously.

"Yes, of course, in my mouth!" she blurted. "Why else do you think I'm doing
this?"

I had no idea why she was doing it, and I wasn't about to ask. At that moment,
the only thing in the world that I wanted was to have those marvelous lips
wrapped around my prick again. Impudently, I tugged on her head.

She came forward eagerly, took my enraged member back into her mouth, and
started bobbing her head back and forth with renewed vigor. Her hand came up to
massage my nuts, and her tongue stabbed repeatedly at the narrow eye of my
peehole.

Again my eyes slid closed. Again I started rocking my hips against her. And,
again, my mind drifted away into that erotic dreamland of rigid cocks sluicing
in and out of ravenous mouths.

Her mouth was insistent; demanding that I reach that level of excitement again
quickly. It was as though she had a craving for my virgin cum, now that she
knew it was going to happen, as though nothing else mattered. She bobbed her
head back and forth quickly, her lips making slurping noises as they flew up
and down my rock hard crank. I could feel her long hair brushing against my
bare thighs with every stroke of her mouth, and her hand was steadily caressing
my balls.

It was only a few minutes before I felt that odd boiling sensation start
building again, more intensely than before, and there was no denying it. I
remember I squeezed my eyes closed and clenched my teeth, concentrating on
holding back, the way mother had told me. I tried to think about something
completely unrelated to what we were doing, but it was no use.

Without warning, some incredibly thick liquid came ripping up the length of my
tortured prick - there was no holding it back - and erupted into mother's
mouth. White skyrockets went off behind my eyes and wave after heavy wave of
the stuff, almost painful, coursed through the rawness of my young cock,
spewing forth uncontrollably, bursting against the back of her throat.

I could feel her mouth working against me as she swallowed; her cheeks filling
out, then hollowing, as she slurped and gulped, quaffing the heavy load of cum
that was cascading into her hungry mouth. Content, mewling sounds came from her
throat and thick globules of the grey-white liquid burbled out the corners of
her stretched lips, trickling down the side of her chin, and she never slowed
down.

I remember growling like an animal as the shocks of sensation gripped and
contorted me. I remember bowing my back, instinctively thrusting my prick as
deeply into her throat as I possibly could, my whole body quaking and jerking
at the unbelievable intensity of that first ejaculation.

And mother very happily swallowed the jism as if it were some nectar from the
Gods.

Only slowly did the floodtide of hot, thick cum subside. Only slowly did my
breathing return to normal. The room spun dizzily before my blurred eyes. My
legs failed me and I had to grip mother's shoulders for support.

She came off the end of my flagging cock then and started licking the thick
smears of cum off my withering shaft. She milked the last drops of it from the
ravaged, little peehole, deftly flicking them off with her talented tongue, and
finally sat back on her heels looking up at me almost dreamily.

"That was wonderful, Jonathan!" she breathed. "That was absolutely wonderful!
It's been so long since I've sucked a cock, and I do love the taste of cum. Did
you like it?"

"Oh, my God, mother," I croaked, "that was the most incredible feeling I've
ever had! Can we do it again sometime?"

Her smile was dazzling. "Of course we can. Anytime you like. There's just one
thing: this has to remain a very strict secret between us, do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"No one else may ever know of this," she said evenly. "Especially not your
father. You can keep a secret for me, can't you?"

"Mother, I'd do anything you ask if it means I can be in your mouth again."

"Good!" she purred. "In that case, come up to my room as soon as you're dry.
You like having your cock sucked and I like sucking it, but there are many
other ways we can enjoy each other, too."

"And you'll show them to me?" I asked eagerly.

"Yes," she said nodding. "Each and every one of them. Hurry, now!"

With that, she was gone. I wilted back into the tub, rested my head against the
rim and gazed weakly up at the ceiling; tired, as if I'd been working all day.
Unbelievable, I thought. Completely unbelievable.

And, after a moment, I remembered that my mother was waiting for me upstairs.
The door to mother's room was slightly ajar when I got there, and I could see
her lying back on the big featherbed she shared with father whenever he was
home, her hair fanned out on the pillow like molten lava. She had changed into
a lacy, coral-colored negligee, and it was doing a poor job of concealing her
ripe body.

I gazed at her for a long moment from the hall and, even though I had dropped a
huge load of virgin cum in her mouth not five minutes earlier, I felt myself
growing hard again just from looking at her. And, somehow, mother sensed that I
was there.

"You've never seen a woman's body before, have you, Jonathan?" she asked softly
from the bed.

"No, ma'am," I said through the door.

"Sit here beside me," she invited, patting the coverlet. "You can see it up
close."

I closed the door behind me and crossed the room in silence. When I sat down
beside her, mother pushed the negligee open even further, exposing her
marvelous, pink-nippled breasts, and I remember feeling that some
indescribable, forbidden, treasure had just been shown to me.

"You're beautiful, mother," I murmured.

"You can touch me if you like," she whispered huskily.

I reached out, very tentatively, cupping my small hand over her breast, and, at
that exact same moment, mother slid her hand through the opening of my robe and
wrapped her warm fingers around my erection. How had she even known that I was
hard?

"You liked shooting your cum in my mouth, didn't you, Jonathan?" she asked
softly.

"Yes, ma'am, I did."

"And it made you happy to know that I was swallowing it?"

I hesitated to answer. It was a loaded question, like asking someone if they
were perverted.

"Be honest," she cooed.

"Yes, ma'am," I admitted finally. "That was the most exciting part."

"I thought it was," she said pensively. "Let me ask you a question: would you
do the same thing for me?"

I looked at her a little oddly. Didn't she know? "Mother, I would do anything
for you. Anything at all."

"I was hoping you'd feel that way," she said quietly, "because I want to be
sucked off, too. Your father is a bit of a prude when it comes to sex; no
foreplay, never wants to try anything new. And he has never understood that I'm
hotter than a two-dollar whore."

"Mother!" I scolded lightly.

"Oh, it's true," she said. "I've known it for years. I want all of the things
that your father won't do, and I want it to be you who does them to me. Are you
willing?"

"Of course, I'm willing. But I don't know what you want."

"Here," she whispered. She guided my hand down to the warm mound at the apex of
her thighs and pushed my middle finger slightly inside with one of her own. I
remember being surprised at how dewy it was, how moist and smooth and
mysterious.

"You feel that little tab of flesh right there?" she asked.

"I feel it."

"Kiss that for me, Jonathan," she groaned. "Kiss it and suck it and rub it with
your tongue. It's been so long."

I went down on her happily. The heady, musky, smell of her cunt was like a
narcotic to me and I kissed it passionately, deeply, as though it were her
mouth. I licked up the length of the damp slit, touched the tab of flesh she
had shown me, then - brazenly - pushed my tongue into her as far as I could
manage.

Her hips ground forward, pushing her quim tightly against my mouth, and I felt
her hands on the back of my head, holding me in that position. I quickly
discovered that she reacted more strongly whenever my tongue flicked across
that small button of flesh; her tummy clenched into muscles, her thighs pressed
against my ears, and her hips swayed and rocked against me, almost out of
control.

I liked the reactions I got from her - it was almost as if I could control her
- and I began toying with her blatantly; kissing around the edges, teasing the
very entrance of her cunt with my lips, then stabbing my hardened tongue into
the depths of her time after time after time, only to stop suddenly and very
softly suck that little nubbin of skin between my lips.

Mother was shuddering against me on the featherbed; quaking and tensing and
quaking again. Her breathing had become ragged and shallow, her beautiful body
clammy with perspiration. And I never relented in my attack on her cunt. I
tongued her, I kissed her, I swallowed her juices, I mouthed her nether lips, I
sucked and stabbed at that sensitive little tab until, finally, mother pulled
me up on top of her.

"Fuck me now," she moaned close to my ear. "The same way you fucked my face in
the bathroom." And she guided my turgid cock into the slick opening of her
quim.

I pushed slowly into her, not knowing quite what to expect, and found that it
was an entirely new sensation, totally different than what her mouth had given
me. He cunt was tight, clasping, oily, hot, and I could feel myself nosing in
past the tiny puffs and swells of that wonderful tunnel of flesh.

She kissed me deeply as I entered her, oblivious of the fact that her own cunt
juices were smeared all over my face. "You made me cum so many times," she
whispered to me. "I had forgotten how good it was. Now I'm going to make you
cum again. I'm going to make you flood me with hot cum, and then - after you
rest a little - I'm going to suck you off again."

I started rocking against her then, slowly at first, gradually increasing
speed, driving my rigid cock into her full length at every stroke - and mother
was rising to meet me. I reveled in the intense, new sensation of having the
entire length of my prick encased in hot woman-flesh all at the same time. It
was some kind of miracle, I was absolutely sure of that, and my own mother was
the only woman on earth who could perform it.

"I'm going to drink your cum!" she hissed in my ear. "Thick, hot cum blowing
into my mouth, gurgling down my throat!"

I don't know if she knew it or not, but her insidious ramblings were having an
effect on me. There I was, furiously fucking the tight sleeve of her cunt, and
fantasizing that it was her mouth. My eyes were squeezed shut, my hands
clutching at the back of her shoulders, and I could feel her rolling against
me, meeting me thrust for thrust, her fingernails digging into the cheeks of my
ass, urging me on to greater heights.

"And then," she purred, "I'm going to take you in my ass! Yes! I'm going to
have you bugger me, Jonathan!"

I felt the boiling sensation start to build again, and clamped my teeth
together to hold it back. I never wanted that first fuck to end, it was that
wonderful.

"You'll push that huge cock of yours into the tight rosebud of my ass and fuck
me 'til hell won't have it!" she whispered. "And when you cum in there ... "

The animal noises from my throat drowned her words, and the sudden, mind-
boggling eruption of cum drowned her cunt. My whole body shivered against her
as a torrent of seething jizz boiled out of my cock, jetting deep into mother's
tight pussy, and I jerked insanely as surge after surge of it burst against her
cervix.

Her long legs wrapped around my back, pulling me even further into her, and she
held me tightly, grinding her cunt against me, and I knew without asking that
she was having another huge climax of her own. Her cunt tightened around my
cockshaft, milking the last dregs of cum out of me, draining me, taking my
strength to be her own.

I collapsed against the heat of her breasts completely exhausted, and I knew,
at that moment, that I was in love with my mother. And it was not the kind of
love you normally think of between a mother and her son - the maternal hug and
dutiful peck on the cheek as you were off to school in the morning. No. This
was the unbridled, blistering love of a pussy that could drain you to the core;
a cunt that you couldn't live without. This was the delirious love of a mouth
that sent white flashes behind your eyes as it drank your cum; a pair of lips
that would suck the very last drop of jism out of your flagging cock and
swallow it as happily as they had the first.

"Are you alright?" she asked. "Was it good for you?"

And all I could do was nod my head.

"Go on to your room and get some rest, Jonathan," she said softly. "I'll be in
to see you after while."

I climbed out of her bed on trembling legs, cinched my robe around me, and
staggered down the hall to my room. She was marvelous, mother was. Marvelous
and mysterious and, as she had said, hotter than a two-dollar whore.

My bedroom door creaked open behind me and I turned weakly, half expecting to
see mother standing there; wondering what wonderful secret she had for me this
time, wondering if it was even possible to cum again, after having been drained
so thoroughly in the bathroom and then again in her bed.

And, of course, I was willing to try.

"Well, now, young master," the visitor asked, "the missus givin' your cod a
little rest, is she?" It was the upstairs maid ... Mary, her name was ... and
she had very boldly pushed my door open and barged into the room.

"Wh ... what?" I stammered.

She must have been in her early twenties and wasn't bad looking, as far as
cockney girls go. She had a nice face and a good body, but her mouth was a
complete wreck of snaggled, yellowish teeth that made her hideous to look at
when she talked or smiled.

"Oh, you needn't be so shy about it," she grinned, "the whole manorhouse knows
you been shaggin' your Mum. An' I reckon if it's good enough for her, it's good
enough for me. That is, unless you want me to call the civil authorities about
the little improprieties takin' place around here."

I remember mother's words, swearing me to secrecy, echoing through my brain ...
No one may ever know of this ... Especially not your father ... and I wasn't
sure what to do. On the one hand, I wanted nothing to do with the upstairs maid
and, on the other, I had to protect the exciting, new relationship I had found
with mother.

"N ... no," I croaked. "Don't call anyone." I needed time to think.

"Oh, aye!" she said, smiling openly then, "I had a feelin' you'd see it my way!
Well, then, let's see what you've got." And, with that, she tugged the belt on
my robe, pushed me backwards into the overstuffed chair, and dropped to the
floor between my knees.

"Coo, blimey!" she breathed taking my flaccid, young manhood in her hand. "I
can see why your Mum's interested! You're hung like a friggin' horse!"

I could see down the front of her uniform blouse as she leaned forward, could
see the smooth cleavage of her ripe breasts, and ... damn me for being so horny
at that age ... I started getting hard again.

"Good boy!" she exclaimed, talking to my burgeoning prick. "Standin' right up
for little Mary, are you? I reckon I'll be able to sit on this thing three,
maybe four times a day from now on! Gonna have to stop wearin' me undies, I can
see that now!"

She leaned forward and planted a lingering, wet kiss on the purplish head of my
cock, then sat back and smiled mischievously up at me. "You can still smell the
cunny juice on this, young master, but that's not a problem, me bein' the
upstairs maid, an' all. I reckon I can clean it up right enough. You just hold
still whilst I go to work."

She didn't have to coax me at all, as a matter of fact. That one lingering, wet
kiss had already convinced me that I wanted it in her mouth; that I wanted to
blow my nuts down her throat. And, if she wanted to fuck me three or four times
a day from then on, as she had said, that was going to be alright with me, too.

Mary wasted no time with teasing and toying, just gobbled my cock into her
mouth and started bobbing her head back and forth in a steady, insistent
rhythm. And her mouth was wonderful, not nearly so nice as mother's had been,
but wonderful nonetheless. Those snaggled, yellow teeth didn't get in the way
at all.

I leaned back in the chair, giving her better access to my turgid rod, and
tangled my fingers in her hair, just as I had done with mother. I closed my
eyes, concentrating all my attention on the terrific lips that were pumping up
and down on my thick cockshaft, listening to the sloppy sounds her mouth made
as she worked me into a frenzy of lust.

Then another faint sound caught my attention, something other than the slurping
and moaning coming from Mary, and I opened my eyes to see mother standing just
a few feet behind the upstairs maid.

I remember being somewhat amazed at the rage in mother's eyes, the incomparable
hatred of a truly jealous woman, and I have no idea in the world as to where
she got the knife. I remember watching her arms lift slowly above her head,
both hands gripping the handle, and the glint of late afternoon sunlight on the
blade as it flashed downward into Mary's exposed back.

I remember the excruciating pain as Mary's jagged teeth clamped down around the
shaft of my cock ... some kind of death throe, I imagine ... and the wave of
blackness that flooded up behind my eyes.

Mercifully, I passed out and there was nothing more until I woke up in the
hospital.

Forty two stitches it took to save my cock, and the damned thing looked like a
mummy, all swaddled out in cotton padding and gauze, lying limply on a cradle
of toweling slung between my legs.

I wasn't allowed to attend the trial - some obscure law about protecting the
innocence of childhood - and I never saw mother again. She was given life
imprisonment at Newgate and, in the end, the whole thing was pointless: she
hung herself with her bedsheets on the very first night.

Father, of course, disowned me - What else could you expect? I cuckolded him
with my own mother. - and I heard later that he had moved his law practice to
America, where the scandal associated with his name was not so well known.

As for me, I was sent to a home for wayward children, in the north, with only
the foggiest notion of why I was there. What had I done wrong? I had pleased my
mother and she had pleased me. It had felt good for the both of us, and what
could have been so terribly wrong about that?

The older women of the home's staff seemed to take a great interest in me - I'm
sure it was because of the scandal - and, after the stitches were removed, I
was very much in demand by them. One of them, a pretty nurse with an insatiable
appetite for sex and whose name I won't mention here, even adopted me, and I
serviced her daily until I was old enough to go out into the world on my own.

The scandal eventually died down and it seems that, nowadays, no one even
remembers mother anymore.

Except me, of course, and I remember her often. Very often.