Incest Stories by Alwayswantedto

[nilr1]

  

I stopped, confused, then dropped my eyes to the wet pussy lying open a foot from my yearning dick.
 
"Not on your life, mister," Mom barked, snapping her legs closed and sitting up.
 
She looked at my cock, then reached out and took it, tentatively, in the soft, delicate fingers of one hand. She pulled it toward her and gave it a quick lick, then another, and another, followed by a slow twirl around its head. She looked up at me and smiled.
 
"I don't remember any pictures with a trellis in them," she said.
 
So she hadn't seen all the pictures. The trellis had only shown up in the second and third bundles. So Mom didn't really know the half of it.
 
"I want to see them all," Mom purred, dipping her head to lick my cock again.
 
"Ahhhhhh, Mom. That feels so good."
 
"Will you show me the rest of the pictures?" Mom looked up at me.
 
I hesitated and she dipped her head down to flick her tongue around my straining cock, quickly looking up for my answer as I groaned my pleasure.
 
I nodded. "Yeah. Sure, sure."
 
I tried to grasp Mom's head, like she had mine, but she batted my hands away, leaving my cock to waver uncontrollably in front of her face.
 
"Please, Mom," I begged, my cock lurching about.
 
Mom grasped my cock in her incredibly soft fingers again and quickly dipped her head, surprising me by enveloping my head and squeezing it to the roof of her mouth with her tongue, then swirling around it before pulling her mouth away with a loud pop. She looked up at me, groaning above her.
 
"All of them. Promise?"
 
"Yes, yes, yes."
 
This time she let me grab her head but I couldn't force it forward. Either she was too strong or I was suddenly weak.
 
"Say it," Mom commanded.
 
"All of them," I gasped. "I'll show you every picture."
 
"Deal," Mom said, lowering her head, treating me with the gift of her warm, sucking, teasing mouth.
 
I bet Mom didn't have much practice giving head but you wouldn't have known it from the cocksucking she gave me. Her head bobbed fast and slow and her fingers blended in perfectly with the music she was composing on the fly, one stroking, the other tickling or squeezing my balls, gently to goad me higher, hard to bring me down. Sometimes she looked up to smile at me but mostly she looked down, concentrating on her task. Several times she twisted her head to the side and urged me with her hands on my ass to thrust into her cheek, somehow knowing the sight of my cock bulging her mouth out would be tremendously exciting.
 
After maybe the fifth time she had squeezed my balls painfully hard, she drew her head back in a long pull - she had been slowly sliding her mouth down my shaft until her lips tickled my hairs, and then back, until her mouth sucked noisily completely off. She had a way, as her mouth traveled up and down, of pulsing her tongue strongly along the underside of my shaft. That felt extremely good.
 
"Are you ready?" she asked.
 
"Yes. Please, please," I gasped. Please let me hold your head,I thought. I want to fuck your face.
 
But that was not to be. Mom quickly flipped around so that her back was facing me and then shuffled her hips away. She reached behind her and unzipped her dress, shaking it off her shoulders and letting it fall to her waist. Of course, she wasn't wearing a bra. Then Mom reached over and pulled a pillow from under the comforter and placed it behind her. She leaned back until she was lying flat on her back, her neck arched over the pillow, neck long and stretched, her tits, already thrusting from the curve of her back, held up from her chest by her small hands which gently squeezed them to emphasize her very stiff nipples. Mom dropped her chin, opened her mouth wide, and waited.
 
Unfucking believable! When she went beyond the pale, she didn't walk, she leapt. I leaned forward, taking my own cock in hand since she wasn't providing any guidance. She was silent as I approached, intrinsically trusting her son, knowing she didn't have to warn me to be gentle. I pressed down, forcing my cock from its upright position, fighting its urgent need to spring upwards, bending it down, until the soft underside grazed the bottom of Mom's nose. Forward then, over her upper lip and into her mouth, Mom adjusting herself to save my tender head from grazing across her teeth, her tongue now tickling the top of my eager cock.
 
I pushed in. Oh, god. What a feeling. Slowly, ever so slowly, I nudged my prick deeper into her mouth until she could take it no more, gagging to warn me if I hadn't already twigged to the tension in her hands which gripped my thighs. I pulled back as Mom made a gargling sound, swallowing the extra saliva generated by my brief contact with her tonsils.
 
I pushed back slowly, trying to figure out where to stop short of my last stroke so Mom wouldn't gag. I stopped and Mom swirled her tongue around my head. I started to pull away but her hands tightened, clenching my thighs and pulled me forward, until my cock once again pushed against her throat. Again, Mom gagged and emitted that gargling sound but she quickly pulled me forward again, forcing my cock to the back of her mouth, gagging, holding me in place, twisting her head around my knob, before finally releasing me.
 
A quick, loud swallow and she pulled me back, faster this time, harder. Again the gagging, again holding me in place, her head grinding around on my cock. Release. Noisy swallow. My cock returning, in a thick, slippery bath. Gag, grind, no swallow this time. Away and quickly back, really wet now, gag, grind, pulled back, in on my own next time without Mom's urging, her fingers now inside my legs, tickling my balls. Oh god. Unbelievable. So hot, unimaginably good.
 
Back and forth, back and forth. No gagging. Mom holding me, by the balls, pulling, pulling, forward, in, shit, so tight, like I was in a cunt, slipping and sliding, Mom's head twisting, oh god, her hands pushing me away, pulling out, gasping, Mom gasping for air, sounding wet, her hand pulling my balls again, forward, fast, quickly popping into that cunt-like tunnel again.
 
I leaned forward, bracing my knees on the edge of the bed and placed my hands on Mom's tits which she had allowed to fall back on her chest. I grasped them firmly, squeezing her nipples into my palms, and used them to pull her throat closer to me, her head bending even more as it slipped over the edge of the bed. Alarmed, I lightened my grip on her tits, then realized that it was Mom, her heels digging into the mattress, who had shoved my cock deeper into her throat. I gripped her tits hard again and bulged my cock in her mouth.
 
Back and forth, I was staring down at Mom, dimly becoming aware this wasn't The Exorcist, it was me, not some demon, that was making her throat bulge like that. Was I a demon? The thought strangely excited me and I moved faster in Mom's mouth, stayed longer in her throat. The sloppy sucking sounds filled the room. Then suddenly, it was upon me. I burst forth, coating her throat, mesmerized by Mom's pulsating throat, knowing it was me flooding inside her.
 
"Ohhhhhh, Goddddd," I moaned.
 
When I was done, Mom pulled herself away from my cock with a final suck as it popped out of her mouth. She twisted around and got up onto her knees, sitting back on her heels, leaving her dress around her waist, tits bare and jutting toward me. She wiped her mouth delicately with one hand. Not a drop of my cum was to be seen.
 
"God had nothing to do with it," Mom said. "I want to see those pictures soon."
 
"I work tomorrow," I said. "You know how Dad is about his shop."
 
Mom knew I meant we couldn't get in there at night, when he was home. It had to be in the day."
 
"Tell me where they are," Mom said.
 
"I can't. Dad will know. They're in one of his secret boxes."
 
Mom knew then that I was speaking the truth. I had to get them for her.
 
"Don't be too long then," Mom said, climbing off the bed and walking past me, reaching behind to zip up her dress, walking awkwardly because the panties were still stretched across her knees, restricting her gait.
 
"There's no more play time until I see those pictures."
 
Blackmail
 
I suffered through the rest of the week. We had piano practice every night but each time Mom wore a crisp white blouse, with a bra, and a tight black skirt. Her outfit prevented any underneath play and when I tried to hold her tits, she elbowed my hands out of the way. Mom insisted I play, the piano.
 
After each session, Mom walked slowly into the living room to receive Dad's accolades. The light shimmered off the sheer hose, her high heels tensioning her calf muscles as she moved, turning nice legs into stunning ones. Mom leaned forward in an exaggerated fashion that emphasized the jut of her behind for a prolonged moment, mercilessly recalling my memory of the same pose she had struck when my jiz filled her panties. She always turned to smile sweetly at me when she straightened up. Each night, I went to bed with an unfulfilled, steel hard boner. No matter how hard I spanked it in bed as I pictured Mom in my mind's eye, it was a far cry from sliding it into her throat.
 
My father hung around the house all day Saturday and that night I suffered through an especially long practice, a full session in which we played each of three pieces, only one of which we would actually play at the recital.
 
The next day, we went to church. I hadn't been able to devise a plan to get Mom into the shop to see the pictures, or to get them out and lose Dad long enough to show them to Mom. It had only been five days and I was like a junkie without a hit, nervous and fidgety, and desperate.
 
Mom, however, was the picture of her old cheery self Sunday morning. She wandered out of her bedroom to the main bathroom to get things she had 'forgotten' to put back into her ensuite, clad only in the slip she would wear under her dress. Dad admonished her but she shushed him.
 
"Jon's in his room getting dressed. Anyway, we're all family. Don't be so silly."
 
To see yet be unable to taste. How cruel. Mom was ruthless in the display of her naked charms under the slip as she padded barefoot back and forth three times, slowing down as soon as she passed through her bedroom door and turned into the hallway where her audience of one waited. She pretended everything was normal though it wasn't every day that your mother dressed so, stopping to scratch an itch, high on the inside of her thigh.
 
I had to get those pictures. I would call in sick on Monday. I couldn't take another day.
 
The sermon was interminably long but finally, we were outside the church, both Dad and Mom chatting to the rest of the flock. I was eager to leave, though why, I have no idea. Nothing would happen until tomorrow morning, after Dad left and I was alone with my mother and my feigned illness. I walked to the car by myself and waited until Dad arrived with the keys.
 
Fifteen minutes later, I saw Mom walking toward me, managing to look sexy even in her church clothes. I suppose it helped that I had seen her this morning dressed only in the slip she wore underneath but I think I would have felt that way looking at her anyway. She's really is beautiful, I thought, the perfect balance of nature and nurture.
 
Wearing a pleased smile, Mom walked directly to the passenger side of the car where I was leaning against the back seat and held her arm straight out from her shoulder, hand hanging limply down, the keys dangling from her fingers, a teasing smile on her face.
 
"Would you be so kind as to take me home, young sir?" Mom's laugh tinkled in my confused brain.
 
I held out my hand and the keys dropped into my palm.
 
"Isn't Dad ...,"
 
"He's going to stay and help out with some things around the church. One of the other men will give him a ride home," Mom explained, the added, "later this afternoon."
 
I ran to the front of the car but Mom's 'ahem' pulled me up short and I ran back to unlock the door and hold it open for her, remembering not to slam it. Running around again, I quickly started the car, slipped it into drive, and drove out of the parking lot. Mom only had to caution me once to slow down on the way home.
 
Once there, I ran through the house and opened the back door, waiting impatiently while Mom put her purse away, kicked off her shoes and padded into the kitchen.
 
"Come on, Mom. Let's go look."
 
Mom looked at me, a quizzical expression on her face. I knew she was playing a game, but I went along, knowing it was the only way to pass Go.
 
"The pictures, Mom. You remember?"
 
"Oh yes. The pictures. Let's have some lunch first."
 
"Lunch? Dad could be home by the time we finish. We can eat after."
 
"You can if you want, but I'm hungry."
 
Maddeningly, Mom began making some lunch. Frustrated, I ran out the shop and retrieved Dad's box, walking hurriedly back to the house as I tried to open it without success on the way. I burst through the back door and set the box on the counter where I managed to open it without problems, lifting the lid and stepping back so Mom could see the three bundles of photos.
 
Mom was leaning back against the counter, one knee cocked out in front of the other, holding a container of yogurt, languidly dipping and filling a small spoon to deliver the milky contents to her mouth. Her tongue flicked out to lick the bottom of the spoon each time, pulling it into her mouth in the same way she'd eaten her pie.
 
I held my hand out, open palm facing out, indicating the open box.
 
"Yes, I see," Mom casually commented, then slipped another spoonful into her sexy mouth.
 
I removed the first bundle and opened it, placing the first picture on the counter. Mom turned toward it, leaning her left hip against the counter, still sliding yogurt into her mouth. Slowly, I put the pictures down, one by one, waiting for her to nod before proceeding to the next. Mom looked long and hard at the last picture.
 
"Yes, I've seen these before," she finally spoke. "Do you think I'd look good in that color of blue?" she asked, leaving the spoon in her mouth, pointing to the lacy panties covering Grandma's pussy.
 
"Absolutely, Mom. You'd look awesome in any color under the rainbow."
 
"I'm not so sure," Mom mused after removing the spoon from her mouth, digging more yogurt onto the spoon but concentrating on Grandma's parted legs.
 
"We could try some," I suggested hopefully.
 
"Yes, that might be the way to go," Mom said, her tone still thoughtful.
 
Suddenly, she turned her back to the counter again, her voice picking up in speed and volume.
 
"Well, I didn't see a trellis," she stated emphatically.
 
I scrambled to gather the photos together, quickly reversing their order before binding them in the elastic again. I fished out the second bundle. Mom turned to look, leaning her hip against the counter as I stepped through the pictures, one by one.
 
When she saw Grandma lying on her back, twisting her legs around, even opening them, Mom turned to face the counter directly. The yogurt container was placed on the counter. A good sign, I thought. A good sign.
 
The best indicator was the thickening of Mom's voice right after a sudden intake of breath when I dealt the last picture. Mom stared at her mother-in-law, head flat on the grass, her bottom held high, legs closed, which only emphasized the mysterious triangle she dangled in front of her boy, its dampness clearly evident.
 
"You can see the trellis, can't you?" I asked, seeking confirmation that I had fulfilled my end of the bargain.
 
"Not so fast, sonny. Show me the rest," Mom demanded.
 
"Mom, maybe that's not such a good idea. Dad might be home any minute now."
 
"Show me," her hoarse voice cut me off.
 
I gathered the pictures together and secured the second bundle. I was in no hurry. It was Mom who showed impatience now, her hips tapping lightly against the counter as she pushed herself away an inch or so and then pulled herself back. I unwrapped the third bundle but hesitated to place the first picture on the counter.
Mom reached behind her neck and deftly unhooked the tiny clasp at the top of the zipper at the back of her dress. A second later the sound of the zipper descending her back was the only sound in the kitchen, except for the loud ticking of the big clock.
 
I put the first picture down on the counter.
 
Mom looked at the photo, then picked it up to hold it closer. I stepped behind her so I could both look over her shoulder and inside her dress. Unfortunately, the slip covered Mom's skin. Since she had only unzipped the dress to her shoulder blades, I pulled the zipper the rest of the way down her back, gently, so I didn't distract her attention from the picture. I loved the feel of the delicate zipper as it dipped into the small of Mom's back and then swelled out onto her buttocks. I leaned close to Mom and looked over her shoulder.
 
It was a picture of Grandma, about Mom's age of course, standing in front of a make-up dresser with a large round mirror. Her dress was unzipped and she was looking into the mirror at the person taking the picture whose youthful body could be seen in the reflection but the head was cut off by the curve of the mirror. The skin on Grandma's back was broken by the backstrap of a bra. Mom put the picture down and picked up the next one.
 
The dress had been pushed off Grandma's shoulders. It was caught in the elbow of her left arm but the right had already been pulled out of the sleeve showing Grandma's bare waist. The bra had been unsnapped so just a hint of the side of her right breast was also visible but the front couldn't be seen in the mirror. I pushed the dress off Mom's shoulders and she moved on to the next picture.
 
The dress was off both shoulders now and Grandma was bare down to her waist, the bra gone. Her breasts could be clearly seen in the mirror. Pert and excited, they would have been a marvelous set of tits for a woman ten years younger than Grandma must have been at that age. They looked like a matched set for Mom's, which she might have realized, going by the sharp intake of breath as soon as she saw the picture.
 
I pulled the straps for Mom's slip off her shoulders and then pushed both the slip and dress off her arms, Mom switching the picture to her other hand to accommodate me. Reaching under her arms, I unsnapped Mom's bra and peeled it off, again with her help. Mom continued to stare at the picture while I undressed her but when I removed the bra, her eyes flicked back and forth several times from the picture to her own breasts in the mirror. Maybe she could see some differences, but I couldn't.
 
I didn't see the next picture at first because as soon as Mom reached for it, I pushed her dress and slip over her hips and knelt to pull them down to her feet. Mom was wearing white stockings that ended halfway up her thigh with ribbon-like, elastic straps joining them to a lacy band circling her waist above a pair of silky white panties. I stood, looking down at Mom's bum, into her crack which was visible under the waistband stretching across her cheeks. Her rapid breathing pulled my eyes away and I looked over her shoulder, first at her bare tits hanging out in mid air capped by her long thick nipples, then at the picture.
 
Grandma had been naked under the dress. The photographer had stepped closer behind her, reaching around to cup a breast in one hand, holding the camera above her shoulder to take a picture of her completely bare front, nicely trimmed bush prominent in the photo. Grandma was looking in the mirror at the tit being lifted from her chest. I couldn't tell where Mom was looking but my attention was immediately garnered by Grandma's bush and the gently sloping belly above it. The photographer's face was hidden by the camera.
 
I reached down to release each leg strap one by one and then knelt behind Mom to pull the waist apparatus over her hips and down her legs. Standing, I looked over Mom's shoulder again. She was still looking at the picture, comparing it to what she saw in the mirror. So was I. To help her comparison, I again knelt behind her and pulled her panties down her shapely legs. Mom lifted each foot to let me remove them completely. I stood up to look over her shoulder again.
 
Other than being naked, Mom looked remarkably similar to the photo. Her bush was slightly more hairy or, more accurately, not so recently trimmed. Truth be known, I thought Mom looked sexier, especially wearing the white stockings that emphasized her pelvic area more so than Grandma's stark nakedness. I pressed my bulge into Mom's bare ass.
 
Mom held this picture for long time. I think she was feeling a growing affinity with Grandma, understanding her better, perhaps no longer jealous of her love for her son or his for her. I stepped back and quietly removed my shirt and pants. I pressed forward, pushing my shorts ahead carefully, not wanting to disturb her but wanting to show her that she had her own secret admirer. I was surprised when Mom pushed her ass back to greet me.
 
"Ohhh, my," Mom sucked in her breath sharply.
 
She had picked up the next picture. Grandma's back was to the mirror and she was sitting down. In front of her, or behind from the picture's perspective since it was taken off the reflection, stood a naked young man, still headless. But the man's hard cock was in plain sight to Grandma's left and I'm sure that's what caused Mom's gasp because she brought the picture very close and peered at it. To me, a cock was a cock and not all that interesting. It didn't look special in any way, but I'm positive that Mom recognized it as my father's.
 
It was time to step over the edge. I stepped back and quickly doffed my shorts. I returned immediately but was careful to push my erection down, so that it fit it into Mom's crack and kept itself there by its own springy power. Mom kept staring at the picture. I placed my hands on her waist and began swaying against her ass, nudging my cock further into her ass.
 
Mom gasped again when she picked up the next picture. Though the young man's cock could no longer be seen, it was clearly right in front of Grandma's face, if not already in it. Myback and forth motion grew firmer. To compensate, I put my hands on Mom's waist to keep her ass from getting away.
 
The next picture confirmed everything, as I knew it would. Taken from above, Dad's cock was shown just entering, or possibly pulling out, of Grandma's pouting lips. Several more pictures followed, each showing Dad's cock and Grandma's head from above. In the last photo, Dad's hand was holding Grandma's hair and his cock was completely inside her mouth.
 
I grasped Mom's tits and tried to angle my cock up into Mom's slit and this caused her to drop the picture. She whirled around to face me.
 
"You can't do that, Jon. I don't care what your father did with Grandma."
 
I dipped my knees and tired to get my cock into Mom's pussy.
 
"No, Jon. You can't," Mom cried.
 
I ignored her, slipping my hands down to her waist, trying to get my cock into her, saying silly things, humping away at her.
 
"I want to be inside you. I want to fill you."
 
Mom started to kneel. I held her up.
 
"No. Not that. I want to be in you."
 
"No. I can't. I just can't."
 
"Please, Mom. Let me."
 
"No."
 
Suddenly, Mom clasped me tightly to her, my upright cock pinched against her soft belly.
 
She whispered harshly, excitedly, into my ear, "Do you want to lie on me? I'll let you on top and you can rub on me. Would you like that?"
 
Desperately, I nodded, "Yeah, yeah."
 
Mom turned and walked to the bed. I caught up to her as she leaned one knee on the edge, poking my hardon between her legs.
 
"Hurry," I gasped.
 
Mom quickly flipped over onto her back but she kept her legs closed. I flopped on top and my hips started churning right away, scbanging my cock on her belly, my balls nestling in her treasured triangle.
 
"Don't try to put it in," Mom warned. "If you do I'll never let you play again."
 
"I promise," I gasped.
 
I knew she meant what she said. Her belly and tits felt so wonderful underneath me I barely cared but in my mind I knew I just had to fuck her. I had to get her to let me. There was just no way I could fuck this woman only once. I had to have her forever.
 
Mom ran her hands up and down my back and then grabbed my ass as I rubbed her more and more frantically. It didn't take long. I started spurting in no more than two minutes, releasing my sticky load all over Mom's belly and tits, crawling up to lodge my cock between them, squeezing out the last few drops on her upper chest where they slowly dribbled into the hollow of her neck. I collapsed, hunched over Mom, kissing her hair, her nose, her cheeks, everywhere.
 
"Ok, ok," Mom laughed. "That's enough."
 
I stopped, but moved my hips forward, trying to push my softening cock into Mom's mouth.
 
She blocked me at first, then said, "Ok, since you kept your promise."
 
Mom grabbed me gently by the balls and pulled me forward, her other hand guiding my softening cock into her warm mouth. As soon as her lips closed over me I began to harden. Half a dozen licks and swirls and I was fully hard, ready to go again.
 
"Oh, Jesus," Mom muttered, pushing me away. "What have I started."
 
I pushed back, shoving my cock back in her mouth.
 
"Mmmmphhhh," Mom mumbled, pushing me away again. "Ok, but be quick. Your father could be home anytime."
 
I hovered over Mom's head, pumping her face. I didn't try to get in too deep. I thought I couldn't unless she was lying on her back the other way. I was still naive then. But the squishy, sloppy sound soon materialized and helped speed me on my way. A few minutes and I was squirting in her mouth, Mom loudly slurping me up.
 
"Ok, get me the last pictures," Mom said when I was done.
 
I brought them back and Mom quickly shuffled through them, pausing longer for some. I knew by the sequence those were the ones where Grandma was lying on her tummy dressed only in the briefest of panties, lifting her ass up toward Dad, legs sometimes closed, sometimes wide open. The last picture was different, and Mom stared at it for a long time.
 
Grandma was naked in that one, on her tummy with her ass lifted in the air, legs only slightly parted but her pussy was in full view, clearly depicted, with milky white fluid oozing out of it.
 
"What the ..." Mom was shocked. She looked in my eyes.
 
"No," she said.
 
I searched deep for a flicker, a hesitation, some hint of uncertainty, but I didn't see any. Still, I wasn't going to give up and I could see in Mom's eyes that she knew it. I had the feeling she was flattered by my perseverance.
 
Recital and Sanctuary
 
Extracurricular activities were now accepted. I had shown Mom the pictures, letting her in on a secret, and I had proved worthy of her trust. I was justly rewarded. I came home most days to a quick blowjob before Dad got home. On the weekends, Mom let me get her outside and allowed me to lead her around the side for a blowjob in front of her trellis, sometimes twice a day.
 
Perhaps Mom was so generous because real piano practice was now being taken more seriously as the date for the recital was near. We truly practiced music in our sessions. But on one occasion, I followed Mom and waited on the blind side of the wall as she bowed and curtsied to Dad's applause. As soon as she came into the hallway, I took her into my arms and kissed her. The near proximity to my father must have lit a fuse because she very passionately returned my kiss and my hand was under her skirt by the time we finished.
 
Mom's face was very flushed and excited and, for the first time in an evening, we snuck out to the trellis where I ate her pussy. I stood and pulled my cock out, ready to put it in her mouth, but she got up from her knees and slipped around behind me. Her hands curled around my hips, one cupping my balls, the other gripping my cock. Mom jacked me off into the night, maneuvering me into position so my cum would spray all over the flowering vine now beginning to cover the trellis. Apparently, she found this very amusing.
 
On subsequent evenings, we practiced just as hard on our duets but partook of some extracurricular activity soon after. The next night, for example, Mom talked to Dad without going right into the living room, instead leaning against the entranceway after she completed her bow. I thought she was teasing me by delaying her departure and the beginning of our games, so I slipped my hands under her skirt and started playing with her bottom.
 
Soon, I had her panties stretched across the bottom of her buttocks and my hand pushed between her cheeks, rubbing along her perineum to the underside of her pussy. I was sure that would prompt her to leave but Mom kept leaning against the wall, talking to Dad, so I worked my hand as far forward as I could, enough to get the tips of my fingers into her slit with my thumb pressed firmly between her cheeks. I was surprised at the length of time she kept interacting with Dad until I realized he probably had his face buried in his book while providing minimal responses to Mom, a bad habit of his when talking to anyone who interrupted him.
 
In the end, I pulled Mom away. I had to bend down to get my hand under far enough to hook her pussy in a grip that was sufficiently strong to tow her backward, away from the wall and down the hall in to the kitchen. Mom only resisted enough to put up the pretense of a struggle. She didn't even turn around to accost me in the kitchen but laughed instead as I dragged her across the linoleum floor and out the back door, off the patio and around the corner to our trellis haven.
 
It was still light outside this late in the summer but we felt protected in our sanctuary. I sat down and pulled Mom with me. She quickly turned around and yanked my shorts down, freeing my rigid cock for a very brief time before it was engulfed by her oral attack. I pulled her skirt onto her back and dragged her panties down to her knees, reinserting my fingers as her head bobbed up and down my shaft with her signature pauses for a tongue swirl at the top and a firm lip bite on my root.
 
I discovered that Mom loved being fingered from the front and the back at the same time, especially a combination involving a sophisticated frontal manipulation of her clitoris and surrounding area together with the thick penetration of multiple digits from behind, sometimes fast, sometimes slow. After Mom sucked me to completion and released my cock, the force of my manipulations pushed her head over my thigh and onto the grass. I ended up twisting around to leverage my arm for heavier penetration from behind, leaving Mom's head lying sideways on the grass with her ass lifted high over her knees. Thankfully, Mom turned her face into the grass in the noisy lead up to her orgasm; we couldn't hide that by a well-positioned trellis.
 
That became the norm for our trellis events. Mom even allowed me to take pictures of her in that position. Before, because it got both of us even more excited, and after, well ... just because. I got many pictures of Mom's well-worked pussy, sometimes with her face still in the grass, and others with her face turned back, displaying an enigmatic smile.
 
I was one happy puppy. I almost forgot that Mom hadn't let me fuck her. Since I hadn't tried, I didn't know if she'd weakened on that front. By the time I thought that was a serious oversight on my part, it was too late. The recital was the next day, Saturday evening.
 
That night, we had another full dress rehearsal, both of us this time. We played all three pieces twice and music, believe me or not, was the only thing on our minds. When we were done, both of us presented ourselves in front of Dad. We all had a cup of soothing tea and had an early night. I fell asleep almost right away. I was exhausted. We didn't play the next day. Mom was superstitious about that. She gardened and I went for a long drive in the countryside. We had a small light supper, got dressed and went to the church.
 
Well, it was a superb performance. Despite the length of our performance, the audience begged us to play another piece, unheard of for piano recitals. But we complied with their request, playing the shorter but more difficult of the other two we practiced. The audience was awed when our performance of that more complex piece superseded the first. It was very late by the time we finished receiving accolades from the congregation and managed to go home. After another relaxing cup of tea, we all headed for bed.
 
Skipping Church
 
"Huh? What?" I muttered, unable to open my eyes.
 
"I said, get up, we're late for Church," Dad said, shaking my shoulder. I rolled over, trying to evade his disturbing hand.
 
"Can't you and Mom go alone. I'm exhausted," I whined.
 
"Everyone will be disappointed. They'll all want to see you."
 
"Dad. C'mon. I really don't feel well," I pleaded.
 
"You c'mon," Dad replied. "At least one of you has to go. Get up."
 
"I can't. Mom will. She never misses Church."
 
"Mom's too exhausted," Dad said. "She's staying home."
 
"Dad, I just can't. Anyway," I appealed to his intrinsic fairness, "it wouldn't be right for me to go alone and receive all the attention. Wait until next week when Mom and I can both be there."
 
"Hmmmm. You have a point. Mother worked so hard for this. Not the least of it, all that effort keeping you up for it."
 
I almost burst out laughing at that. Jesus. If Dad only knew what a mouthful he had just said.
 
"Ok, son. That's very thoughtful. I'll tell everyone you're both just too overwhelmed by their kind response last night. Ok. That's what I'll do."
 
And Dad was gone.
 
I confess, I turned over and went back to sleep but I awoke with a start only twenty minutes later.
 
Mom and I were home alone! Dad would be gone for hours.
 
I would have flung my covers off so hard they would have flown out the window had it not been so hot that I wasn't using any. Instead, I executed a spring leap out of bed to a full stance, naked except for my undershorts, poised as if ready for a martial arts battle.
 
Mom was alone in bed.
 
I started for the door. Halfway there, I began shoving my shorts down. By the time I reached the door, I was kicking them off my feet. Naked, I strode down the hallway, feeling strong and confident. My parent's bedroom door was ajar a few inches. Quietly, I pushed it open and entered.
 
Mom was lying face down on the bed, head sideways and directly on the mattress, the pillows pushed against the headboard. Her arms were aligned along her sides, hands flat on the bed, beside her hips. Mom's legs were parted about a foot and a half, feet turned slightly inward, soles facing up. Her breathing was regular, I noted, as I walked stealthily to the end of the bed.
 
Though eager, I watched Mom for a couple of minutes in silence, admiring the wrinkles on the soles of her feet, the taper of her legs from her muscled calves to the smoothness of her thighs and the tender softness on the inside. Her unblemished back provided a backdrop for the gradual descent from her buttocks to the valley in the small of her back, which itself gave way to the shallow groove rising between her shoulder blades to flatten into the slender arch of the neck that lay under her rich, brown, wavy hair.
 
I reached forward to slip my fingers around each ankle and ran my hand up to her knees and back, holding my fingers just tight enough to barely touch Mom's skin. Twisting my hands around, I scratched a long line down the center of her soles with my index fingers, regained my loose hold of her ankles, and took a return trip to knee and back. Gently, I lifted Mom's ankles and moved her feet wider until her legs were parted far enough for me to lie between them on the bed.
 
As I neared the apex of Mom's legs, I could tell she was breathing faster, though she had provided no indication that she wasn't sleeping.
She's awake, I thought as I lowered my face between her legs, using the back of my hands to pry her thighs apart. I dropped my mouth onto the bulb bulging out beneath her bum, my nose settling in her crack.
 
"Mmmmmmmm." The first indication that Mom was indeed awake.
 
"Ohhhhhhhhh," she moaned as my tongue finished its trace outside her pussy and moved inside, the tip of my tongue prying her flaps apart and delving into her pink slit.
 
"oh god," she sighed, reacting to my flicking tongue and the crooked fingertip that pushed underneath to rub her hooded clit.
 
"unnnnnnggghhhh," she groaned, as I wiggled my head from side to side, exacerbating the effects of my snake-like, oral digit as it pushed deep into her wet hole.
 
Mom's hips rose from the mattress, The easier to tongue me, I imagined her saying. She writhed around my face, her knees working to support her wide open legs as her hips tried desperately to maneuver her pussy to ever more titillating contact. Soon, Mom's hips were so high her legs rose straight up from her knees and I dropped my finger from her clit to pinch a nipple in each hand.
 
I was breathing through my nose with some difficulty because it was sometimes completely covered but there was no way I was going to pull my face way. Instead, I let go of Mom's tits and wrapped my arms around her waist, heaved her thighs onto my shoulders, and kneeled upright. Now there was no way Mom could have pulled her snooch from my head even if she wanted to. Up, I lifted myself on my knees, keeping her crotch tight to my face, lifting her completely from the bed, upside down, her head dangling free.
 
"Ahhhhhhh," I sighed as Mom steadied herself, her mouth latching onto my wavering dong.
 
"Ummmphhhh," I blew into her pussy as she suddenly pushed her mouth down to my root, squeezing her lips tight around the base of my super hard cock.
 
The rest was a rising crescendo of moans and groans as I ate and Mom sucked, my arms helping by lifting her body up and down, soon tiring and resorting to shrugging my shoulders, finding that raising her thighs and hips was enough to suit my needs.
 
When I came, I wondered if my father was singing a hymn. I convulsed in Mom's mouth and found it extremely difficult to breath as her legs clutched my head in a rapid series of uncontrolled clenches. We collapsed on the bed, falling to our sides, still gripping one another, moans subsiding with the expulsion of our respective liquids.
 
Minutes later I crawled back to my kneeling position and urged Mom to turn around. She did but instead of lying down so I could lie beside her, she straddled my closed thighs, pushing them onto my calves and my bottom onto my heels.
 
"Is that what you were hoping for?" she asked.
 
"Not quite," I said, seeing the wild look in her eyes.
 
"Did you pray for more, then?" she persisted.
 
"Maybe your father remembered you in his prayers," she said, making me wonder what on earth she was up to.
 
"Mom, that's weird. I don't think Dad would pray for me that way."
 
"No, but he might have prayed that you didn't get this," Mom said, scrunching her pelvis down to rub her wet pussy along my cock and onto my balls.
 
My cock immediately stiffened.
 
Mom rained soft kisses on my face, whispering to me, "I'll bet he's praying right now, hoping your mother is strong enough, unlike his, to ward of her son's beautiful, hard cock."
 
"Mom, that's not fair," I complained, loving the way her pussy had opened and her soaked slit was enveloped around my shaft, rubbing all the way up and down.
 
"I know. Aren't I cruel?" Mom laughed. "I'm so bad, such a tease."
 
She rubbed me a dozen more times.
 
"Are you sorry for what you did the other night, teasing me from behind like that?"
 
"No."
 
I was defiant. Mom kept up her seductive rubbing.
 
"So, did you pray for it?"
 
"You know I did," I gasped.
 
"And what did He say?" she cooed.
 
"He said its wrong," I panted. Gambling that I was playing the game right, going with my gut, I gasped, "He asked what kind of slut would fuck her own son for the first time, on a Sunday?"
 
"I would," Mom shrieked, suddenly rising up and impaling my cock as she dropped. "I would," she cried, immediately starting to fuck me, hips digging down to get me in as far as she could.
 
It was a fast, furious fuck, me lurching up, trying to hold her, and Mom, pulling herself down, grinding and twisting so hard I thought she would tear me off at the root, her heels digging into my ass to prod me deeper inside her.
 
It didn't last long. In no time, we released our liquid glues, our two-part instant, not-so-fast bond.