Game of Moans: Mom Reads My Stories

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This is a short little flight of fancy that was fun to write. All the characters are, and always have been, over eighteen. This story is purely a product of my own imagination. Although I currently don’t have any plans for a continuation, any future installments will largely depend on reader comments. I look forward to any constructive critiques and would appreciate it if you would please vote. Cheers!

*****

I thought it would be nice to visit my mother. She lived alone and since I lived so far away, I just hadn’t seen her as often as I should have. Mom and I had always been very close. She became pregnant with me at a very young age, and while I was growing up she was often mistaken for my older sister. Mom and I, were lucky to have received a lot of support from her family, so we were never wanting. When mom did marry, she married well, although her husband, my stepdad, died at an early age. After college, I had been very successful in the world of finance and was fortunate enough to be able to retire while I was still relatively young. Since I now had plenty of time on my hands, I decided I would take off for an entire month and have a nice, long, leisurely visit with my mom.

For an”old fogie” as she referred to herself, Mom was in great form. For a woman in her early sixties, she had retained much of her former figure and was incredibly active. She routinely walked, practiced yoga, and was an avid gardener. While visiting, I participated with her in all her activities, but it was obvious she was taking it easy on me.

We spent most evenings quietly watching television. I also used that time to work on my writing.

“What’s got you so engrossed over there? Every night you’re just typing away on that tablet of yours.” She asked.

“I’ve been trying my hand at writing short stories and I’m trying to do a little writing every day.”

“What kind of stories? What are they about? What do you do with them? Are you published? Are you putting them into a book?”

“Geez, Mom! I started out writing just for fun, but then happened upon an online site where I can post them.”

“Well, what kind of stories do you write? Can I read them? Where online?”

“Mom, like I said, I’ve been writing these stories primarily for me and I don’t think you’d like them, or even approve.”

“Oh for crying out loud, why wouldn’t I approve? What could be so bad about them? Are you that bad of a writer?”

“No Mom, it’s not that, it’s just that the subject matter is shall we say…off color.”

“Off color?!? What does that mean? Are these stories X-rated or something?”

“Well, yeah, I think you might think of them that way. My stories are sexually graphic and I’m not sure how comfortable I am having my own mother read them.”

“Oh pshaw! Look at me! I may be old enough to be your mother, but I’m still young enough to enjoy life! There isn’t much you can write about that I haven’t been exposed to during my lifetime! Now I really want to read them! Where are these stories posted?”

“Oh Mom, please! NO! Let’s just give it a rest! Okay!?!”

“NO! What do you mean – NO? Now you’ve really peaked my curiosity and I won’t stop bugging you until you let me read them. I just want to see what kind of warped mind I’ve created in you.”

“Mom, It’s just too embarrassing. It just feels too weird!” I pleaded.

“There’s no need for you to be embarrassed.” She replied.

Needless to say, I didn’t relinquish, but Mom hounded me for the rest of the evening and the entire next day. Finally, the next evening I gave in. I gave her the link to the website and showed her how to navigate to my account and stories.

“Which one should I start with?” She asked.

“It doesn’t really matter. But please just remember, all these stories are total fabrications. They’re just the product of my own fantasies sprinkled in with some of my own life experiences. I guess that’s what makes your reading this so embarrassing.”

“Don’t be embarrassed and don’t worry. Everyone has fantasies, you just wrote some of yours down. I think this will be fun.”

The next morning I was in the kitchen making a pot of coffee when Mom came in wearing her robe. I was a little surprised as she was always up early and dressed.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Yes, just tired. I was up late reading most of those stories of yours.”

“Oh, I see.”

“You have quite the imagination.”

“Yeah, I guess. Are you disappointed?”

“Disappointed? No, why would I be disappointed.”

“Well, to start with, reading all those racy stories that are the product of your son’s warped mind.”

“Well, I thought your stories were imaginative and erotic. There were several things I might have tweaked or approached differently, but all in all, I was impressed. I don’t know that the genre would have been my first choice but I’m glad I had an opportunity to read your work. If you’d like I’d be happy to sit down and give you my take on your writing.”

“Sure! That would be great! Maybe it would be just güvenilir canlı bahis siteleri like when you use to help me with my homework.”

“Hopefully this won’t be so arduous.” Mom said.

We spent the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon discussing how I might improve my writing. Mom offered some really meaningful ideas and I was surprised to see how frank she was when she spoke to me about intimacy and finer points of sex from her perspective. Then she hit me with a bombshell!

“How about we write a story together?” Mom asked.

I just stared at her. “What?”

“You heard me, let’s write a story together! I can’t remember when I even really thought about sex, it would be fun!”

“Writing porn with my mother! Now that’s got to be a first, but sure, why not!”

Since I was in the midst of writing a story, we thought we could use that as our spring board project. Mom asked me about my motivation for the story and how I envisioned it proceeding. She read through my draft and then re-wrote and edited it. The next day I read her re-writes and then we discussed it some more. Mom had her own vision about the story and I was happy to let her go with it. As our process evolved, we got to the point where Mom had taken charge and was basically writing the story, we would discuss what she had done, and then she would write some more. I was amazed at how she was really getting into it, but even more impressed with how knowledgeable my mother was about all the intense and kinky sex she was describing in the story.

“Mom, you really seem to have a knack for this stuff, but I gotta ask, where is all this fervent sex coming from? I mean geez, you’ve got the characters in this story doing stuff that is incredible!”

“Well you said you just take your own fantasies and past experiences and build on them. That’s all I’m doing. Am I doing it wrong?”

“No! What you’ve written is terrific. In fact, I’m having a hard time reading this stuff without becoming aroused.”

“Well good! Isn’t it suppose to have that effect? I must admit, while I’m writing and when we have these intimate discussions and talk about all this nasty stuff, I too get feelings…feelings I haven’t felt in ages.”

“Well, I’m glad your getting as much enjoyment out of writing this stuff as I do. I just never thought of you as, shall we say, so sexually astute. Can you at least tell me how much of this is fantasy and how much is from past experience?”

“I don’t know, maybe fifty-fifty. I mean I wasn’t raised in a convent. I’ve always had a strong, healthy sex drive, and I put it to use, especially when I was younger.”

“Can you give me some details?”

“Sure, read the story!” She chuckled.

We continued with our writing process, but when we got to a point in the story where it could develop into a mother and son scenario, Mom asked, “I couldn’t help but notice that a good number of your stories are based on an incestuous theme, mostly sons with their mothers. Any particular reason?”

“Well, it’s always been a point of fantasy. I think a lot of guys, at some point, fantasize about their moms, it’s only natural. I’m sure some girls have fantasies about their fathers too.”

“Did you ever have fantasies about me?”

I was embarrassed and looked down, “yes.” I whispered.

“That’s sweet.” Mom said. “Why don’t you tell me about the fantasies you had about me, and maybe we can incorporate them into the story.”

“MOM!! That’s just too embarrassing! I don’t think I can do that!”

“Well, if you won’t tell me, let’s make one up now, for the story. This seems to be your bailiwick, so what do you think?”

“Geez, I don’t know, let’s think on it.”

“Well, might this help?” Mom asked as she untied the sash on her robe, and it fell open.

I was shocked! “Mom! What are you doing? What’s going on?!?”

“Honey, don’t wig out on me! I thought we could incorporate this into our writing process. This could aid our writing!” She said as she stood up, cupping her breasts and pinching her nipples. “Or am I just making a fool out of myself with this wrinkled, saggy, old body?”

I could not take my eyes off her. She had a body that looked like it belonged to a woman twenty years younger! Her C-cup breasts, though admittedly a bit saggy, still looked round and firm. She still had a relatively flat tummy and her hips were round and shapely.

“Mom, I just don’t know how to react! This is totally unexpected! My body is telling me one thing but my mind is telling me something else.”

“What are they saying?” She asked.

I stood up. She could see my boner causing an undeniable bulge. “You can see what my body’s telling me.”

“And your mind?” Mom asked.

“It’s telling me to run like hell.”

“Hmmm, an angel on one shoulder, a little devil on the other, both whispering in your ear. Who’s going to win?”

“Mom, I have fantasized about you for years. I’d say, although I know it’s wrong, the devil’s got this hands down.”

Mom smiled. güvenilir illegal bahis siteleri “Come here and give your mommy a big hug!”

I stood up, slipped my hands inside her robe, wrapping my arms around her naked body. I could feel her rub herself against my bulging shorts as she pressed into me and ran her hands down my back squeezing my butt.

“Mom, I know this is in the interest of our “literary art,” but how far are you comfortable going with this?” I asked.

“Why don’t we go out into the garden. It’s such a beautiful day, and I adore being naked out there!”

I thought to myself, “Oh brother, here we go!”

“When it’s nice outside, like today, I love to garden in the nude.” Mom continued.

“Are you ever concerned that folks might see you?” I asked.

“I don’t really care. I mean the yard is fully fenced in. I know the neighbors sometimes peek at me from their upstairs’ windows, and I’m pretty sure the folks next door snoop through the fence from time to time. But I find it exciting knowing that they even want to look me and it’s fun knowing I’m being watched.”

“My mother the exhibitionist…who knew!” I said.

“Come on, let’s go…you can be one too.” Mom took my hand and walked me outside into the back yard. We stepped out onto her covered patio. Mom gestured toward the hot tub that was recently installed. “At some point, somehow, we need to work that into our stories.”

“That looks like it could be the premise of a stand alone story on it’s own.” I answered.

“Mmmm, I like that idea.” Mom said as she worked at pulling my polo shirt up over my head and then slowly pulled down my shorts. My hard cock popped out as Mom lowered shorts.

And there I stood, stark naked, with my mother, who had slipped off her robe and was also totally nude.

“I guess it’s been a few moon’s since you’ve seen me in my birthday suit.” I said.

“Yes baby, and I must say, you certainly have grown!” Mom said as she reached down and squeezed me.

“Well, you’re still the hottest mom of all my friends!” I said, and we both laughed. “Mom, I’m really liking all of this, but I’m not so sure about us being intimate. I mean you can clearly see I’m excited, but I don’t know how we instigate anything without feeling awkward?”

“Why don’t you leave that to mommy.” She said while leading me over to the outdoor swing. “Let’s just sit here, relax and get acquainted with our new, shall we say, situation. I think, to start out, it would be good if we, correction …YOU became more comfortable with your lack of accouterments.”

Mom sat down next to me, resting her hand on my thigh. “This is such a gorgeous day! Isn’t this pleasant?” Mom asked while lightly stroking my inner thigh. She gradually inched her hand up my leg until she grazed my scrotum. My dick was already standing straight up.

We sat together like this for a long time.

“What are you thinking about?” I asked.

“Oh, I don’t know, I’m just reminiscing…you know I haven’t even been with another person since your father…and that’s been almost twenty years.”

“MOM! I can’t believe that! You’re an incredibly attractive, vibrant woman! There must have been men…or women, who were interested!?!”

“Oh, they were interested alright, but not in ME, just my body!”

“Even so, there must have been someone who peeked your fancy.”

“Not really, I guess I was just spoiled by your father. I never met anyone else who measured up…except for you”

“I’m not so sure I can fill Dad’s shoes either, but I’ll do my best. Mom, I just have to ask, especially since we’re sitting here…like this. What did you and Dad like to do in private, you know, when you were being intimate?”

“Well, one thing we liked to do quite often, is just quietly sit or lie together and fondle each other, just like we’re doing now. Don’t you like this?”

“Why yes. It’s very erotic, yet soothing at the same time.”

“YES! You get it!” Well, we’d often cuddle like this, and I miss that so much. Also, your Dad loved putting his mouth on my private parts and use his tongue on me, I have to admit, I liked that too.” She said, trying not to blush.

“And did you use your mouth on him?”

“Oh yes, I use to adore how I could get him so hard and excited! Sometimes we would try to see who could make the other one orgasm first, just using our mouths.” I’m so embarrassed sharing that, I’ve never spoken of it before, to ANYONE!”

“I appreciate that you’re comfortable sharing that with me. What else did you and Dad like to do?”

“Well, we of course had intercourse…we did a lot of that! But I’m not so sure what shape my vagina is in anymore after all these years.”

“We’ll take it easy on that front. I guess, if you want, we can always set up an appointment with your gynecologist. Maybe, if you want, you can ask about hormone treatments or something, to help get your vagina back in shape if need be, but that would have to be entirely your call.

“I’ll have to think about it.”

“Anything güvenilir bahis şirketleri else?” I asked.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, did you guys ever try anal sex?”

“Oh gosh NO! That’s disgusting! We NEVER did that! Well…does… licking…count?”

“AAHHH, yeah, I’d say so.” I smiled.

“Well, maybe just a few times.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Oh, okay. I see.”

“Well, it wasn’t a major part of our sex life. Your dad would occasionally lick my anus. He knew that drove me crazy, and sometimes he’d finger me there, but he didn’t do it often…at least not often enough.” Now she smiled. “You must think your mother has really gone around the bend. I know I’m being naughty and not acting in what would ever be considered a “motherly fashion,” I mean I must be nuts to so openly be talking about all of this. We should probably stop, but I’ve been suppressing my urges for years, and now, after reading your stories and then helping you write them, I’ve just become so ‘antsy.'”

“I think ‘horny’ is the word.” I interjected.

As we continued chatting, she squeezed my cock. When she did, I moved my hand and stroked her inner thigh. Mom instantly opened her legs even farther and scooted closer.

My mother was slowly, but firmly pumping me. I slipped my hand up and gently massaged her vulva.

“I think we’ll have to get some lubrication soon, but I’m so enjoying this, please just keep doing what you’re doing, at least for now.” Mom quietly murmured.

“Whatever you want, but I don’t know how much longer I can last before…you know…I…”

“CUM.” Mom said, completing my sentence, and then she really started pumping me…HARD.

“YEAH!” I groaned as I leaned back showering both of us and the backyard in gobs of my thick, creamy sperm.

“Oh my goodness! It just keeps shooting out! It’s everywhere! You must have been really saving that up!

“I think it may have been due the fact it was you doing what you were doing. Not every guy is lucky enough to have his own mother bring him to orgasm.” I said.

“It’s been a very long time since I’ve played with a man’s equipment. I was afraid I may have lost my touch.”

“No Mom, believe me, your touch was wonderful! I only hope my touch feels as good to you.”

“I’m going to get some lubrication. I’ll be right back.” Mom said. She got up and went into the house but was gone quite a bit longer than I had anticipated. When she returned, she was carrying two very large gin and tonics.

“Boy, those will hit the spot! Did you find some lubrication?”

“Well, yes and no.” She said as she sat back down on the swing. “I couldn’t find any of the usual stuff, but while I was in the kitchen mixing these cocktails I saw my dish of butter. It’s soft, room temperature, so I scooped up a big glob of it and spread it all over and inside my coochie.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Words I never thought I’d hear my mother say.”

Mom just smiled.

“You know, I love extra butter on most things, let me see how good it goes with coochie.” I said as I slid off the swing and knelt between Mom’s legs. She scooted forward as I leaned in and ran my tongue up and down the inside of her thigh. Mom ran her fingers through my hair and pulled my face up to her crotch. I slowly traced the tip of my tongue up and down her slit. She quietly moaned as I gently sucked.

“Mmmm that feels nice…so nice…” She prrrred.

Before too long, she gradually started breathing hard…almost heaving, and arching her back. I carefully and slowly worked my finger up inside her. I was feeling for what I hoped might be her G-spot. From deep down inside I felt, more than heard, her emit the most visceral groan any woman has ever made. She was bucking uncontrollably as wave after orgasmic wave washed over her body. She collapsed back in the swing, totally exhausted while I stayed on my knees, my head resting in her lap. Mom kept running her fingers through my hair, but was otherwise motionless.

Eventually I turned my head and looked up. My mother had tears streaming down her cheeks. I leapt to my feet and sat back down next to her, holding her in my arms.

“Mom! Are you alright?!? What’s wrong?!? I didn’t hurt you did I?!? What happened?!?” I implored.

“Oh darling, I’m alright. Nothings wrong. In fact, everything is wonderful! You just caused me to rekindle feelings that I haven’t felt in years. These are just tears of joy! I haven’t had an orgasm, at least not one so intense, since I can remember. Mommy was just overcome from the pleasure you brought her, that’s all.

“Oh mom, I’m so glad I got you off like that, but are you telling me you haven’t had an orgasm since Dad died?!? I can’t believe that!”

“No, no, lord knows I’ve masturbated. Heck, I have enough dildos and vibrators to open my own store! Yes, I’ve had oodles of orgasms, but nothing ever came close to THAT! My own son, getting me off, and like that, was just incredible! The intensity of it all just took me by surprise.

Soon after, Mom and I showered and dressed. I took her out to a nice restaurant for dinner. We also purchased her a variety lubricants and other necessities before returning home. We decided to get a good night’s rest and spend the next day writing. I was preparing for bed when Mom knocked on my door.

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