Watching and Waiting

I was nineteen years-old and living at home when I first spied upon my mother in the throws of sexual intercourse with a man. He was not my father who had left shortly after my birth, nor did this man heaving now into my mother's womb, remain in our family constellation long enough to even warrant the overused and veiled title: "Uncle". As in, "this is your Uncle Mike. He's like a brother to me." I became curious as to why having sex with a brother would be more comforting than if she introduced him as "this is Mike. He's my new boyfriend." It seemed odd that my mother would find familial relations more sexually intimate than normal social relations.

In any case, I always recall that evening and what followed with vivid clarity. His muscular back holding himself over her as her breasts moved up and down on her frame with each thrust he made. The covers were still shielding their waists so I was unable to discern any details below their torsos, but I knew instinctively what he was doing. The bottom of "Uncle Mike" was thrusting with an even motion and each time his lower half descended, my mother gave a glorious sigh of satisfaction.

This piston-like action went on for a few moments before her hands began gripping the sheets and then his back; her breaths coming in short gasps between cries of "Oh, God." And "yeah." Holding Mike's back she lifted herself up and began aggressively kissing Mike hard on his mouth as her groin thrust with more force against him. And that's when it happened. Our eyes met. While they kissed passionately, her eyes widened and I could tell her mind was being ravaged with a thousand scenarios of what she should do. I too was in a state of shock. We both knew what I was doing was wrong; spying on anyone fucking was rude, let alone a close family member. However, we were both in such a state of arousal that no such social decorum mattered. We saw in each other's faces the mask of pure lust, I for her and she for him. Yet in that time and place, it didn't matter that we were mother and son, what only mattered was that we were both sexually aroused.

That's the best I can describe it in any case.

Instead of stopping and closing the door or even discreetly shooing me away, she simply smiled, her eyes aflame with the decision she knew would affect our relationship. In that moment, we had a tacit agreement that we, she and I were sharing this because of our secret complicity and that Mike was only a product for our amusement. Staring at me, she fucked Mike harder, encouraging him to meet her force.

"You gonna come?" She said in his ear, but looking at me. And then she nodded to me, an indication that I should masturbate. I reached my hand into my sweat pants and began to stroke myself.

"You gonna come, baby?" She repeated into Mike's ear.

"Soon." He groaned.

My mother then grabbed Mike by the hair and pulled his head back. "Hold on, big boy. Not yet." She then disengaged from him and pushed him on his back, the top of his head facing my direction. Now my mother and I would have an unimpaired view of each other's faces. Mike laid back and my mother straddled his waist slowly rubbing the folds of her engorged and heated labia over his throbbing staff. "We're gonna make it last. Okay?" She said, and then looking up at me with as if giving a command: "There's no hurry. No school tomorrow."

Mike laughed believing this to be aimed towards his own approaching weekend, when in fact, it was clearly meant for me. I smiled.

My mother, still teasing his cock with the outside of her pussy began to slowly and methodically stroke him with her vagina. Mike groaned and hissed.

"You know that makes me cum, baby. Please."

My mother smiled with one side of her mouth. It looked sexy and cruel. "I know, baby. But I need you to keep it together. We're gonna make it last. Can you handle it?" Inch by seemingly painful inch she coated his throbbing cock with the fluids of her excitement.

At last she put his cock into her pussy and simply sat there and made eye contact with me once more. While she sat squarely on his cock, Mike lay there running his hands over my mother's breasts, playing with her nipples and stroking her face, but my mother stared at me and I her. Finally, I saw her stomach muscles begin to flex and relax and Mike cried out. "Oh, God! I can't hold on!" He covered his face with his arm as my mother worked his cock with her muscles and stared at me.

"Don't worry. Let it go. Cum, baby." Mike and I both released ourselves; he into the wet and warm vagina of my mother and I into my soft and Downy-fresh surroundings of my sweatpants. She broke eye contact with me and leaned down to kiss him. I knew this was my cue to leave and I did so.

The next morning, Mike made some excuse as to why he couldn't spend the day with my mother and this time she accepted his ephemeral explanation with an unprecedented casualness. In my heart I knew it was because she wanted to be alone with me, most likely to discuss last evening's events. Mike left and I heard her pacing outside my bedroom door.

"If you want to come in, just come in. It's your house." I heard my mother let out a small laugh before she turned the knob and came into my room.

"Talk?" She asked with a trace of hesitancy.

"Let's." I replied. "Last night?" I retorted.

She nodded, her hair falling in her face.

"Mom..." before I could finish she put her hand up signifying her turn to speak.

"You're nineteen. I had you when I was twenty. I was a young mother who ... wait until I finish ... made a mistake. Not because of who you are, but because of who I was. I was a really wild girl who fucked a lot of guys by the time I had you. A lot. And when I had you, I was very happy I kept you, but I won't lie. We thought about it. No. Your father thought about it. For me it was never an option. Jesus, this is hard to talk about."

"So dad didn't want me. I'm sorry, mom. That must have been hard for you."

She looked at me. But not the same way a mother looks at a son who she's proud of or pleased with, but as a peer. She looked at me with the eyes of friendship. I felt lifted.

"It was. It was really hard. You know, I'm telling you this because we're close. I've never felt as close to anyone as I have with you. And it's not just mother and son. I've seen a lot of mothers who don't give two shits for their sons. I'm getting sidetracked here."

"Just say it, mom. Don't worry. I won't judge you."

She smiled. "I know. That's why I feel for you the way I do. That's why last night we had that ... moment."

"Mom, that was more than just a moment."

"I know. Jesus. But the thing is, baby. The thing is ... Oh, God, this is so weird." She looked up. "The thing is ..." she looked at me directly now with a fierce intensity. "I wanted it to be you in there."

There was a silence that could have consumed the entire world. Neither one of us took a breath for five or six seconds. When we exhaled we did it at the same moment and then laughed through the foggy tension coating our emotions.

"You find me attractive?" I asked, my heart racing with disbelief and sexual stirrings.

"Yes, but that's not the point. I find Mike attractive too. I can fuck any guy I find attractive. It's more than that. When you're here, I feel good. I don't feel like I have to be someone or behave a certain way. When we have our evenings together alone, those are the most special nights of my life. Whether we're watching television or just sitting in the same room. I've never had that with a man before. I am more comfortable with my own son, than I've been with any man and before last night I thought it was just about being family. But it's obviously not."

"So what do we do?"

"I don't know."

"Are you asking me to be your boyfriend?"

Mom laughed. "I don't know. I am in love with you. I think."

I leaned over and kissed her gently. Our lips were dry from the tension and we each ran our tongues simultaneously over our own to moisten them. When we realized we were doing this, we laughed.

"This feels right for me. Does it for you?" She asked smiling, her eyes lighting up as though being given a gift she only hoped for. I knew that look because it was most likely what I reflected.

"Yes. It does feel right. In an illegal sort of way."

She laughed and grabbed the back of my head, bringing me to her hungry and diligent tongue. Our mouths pressed against each other as our tongues swirled. Each of us discovering the other's rhythm. We lay on my bed kissing deeply for minutes on end before she broke from me.

"Your bed is a joke. Let's go to my room." She got up and turned around. "Are you a virgin, by the way?"

"No." I replied.

"Neither am I." We laughed and entered her room. She took her robe off and was completely naked. "Will it bother you that we're going to be in the same bed that I fucked Mike in not more than twelve hours ago?"

My cock began to rise. My mother looked at me, her lips beginning to redden and become engorged. Her cheeks starting to flush and her eyelids lower to half mast. "I'm asking because I think watching your mother get fucked excites you, doesn't it?"

I could do nothing but pant. Her talking was pushing my buttons. Suddenly, as though becoming a completely different person before my eyes she snapped out of her sexual delirium and asked. "Do you mind that I play head games? I love sex when you push emotional boundaries. It's not personal and if I ever hurt your feelings, tell me. But I love getting my men angry or jealous or even hurting their feelings. If that's not your thing, tell me. I am your mother, after all."

I was so startled with sexual arousal and now complete confusion, my mind didn't know how to react. "I don't know how I feel right now. I'm hard, that's what I do know."

"Well, go with it. We'll find out what you like in time." She suddenly became that siren again and moved closer to me. She removed my shirt and gently ran her hands over my shoulders and on my back. I did the same in an effort to appear confident. Our lips met again gently and she started her way down my neck. Biting sensually and with a delicate insistency that made my head swim.

"Lie down, baby." She whispered. I lay upon her bad and she kneeled between my legs. "Let's get these sweatpants off." She tugged them off and felt the encrusted semen in the crotch from last evening's episode. "You came a lot. What got you off? When I told him to cum? Or was it when I took control? Probably both." She looked at my straining cock dancing against my stomach. "You've got a good cock. Nice. A good size."

"Really?" I asked with genuine interest.

"Yeah. It's good." She reached out and grasped it with her hand and began to stroke it with an easy pace. "So hot. I love cocks. They're like hot, fleshy poles that dance in your hand. It's so gratifying to make a man cum. To watch it all pour out." My penis throbbed with her ministrations and her continual dialogue.

My mother then lay next to me, our eyes gazing into each other as she pulled rhythmically on my cock, her face a mask; without any emotion. I started to gasp as her hand increased its speed and tension.

"You're going to cum soon. I've had a lot of cocks in my hand and I know when they're about to pop. They get real hard and if you let them go, they can stand on their own." She stopped and looked down. Sure enough my cock was standing straight up for a moment before it fell back down on my stomach.

"See? You were about to cum." She smiled with the same cruel, sexual smile I saw last night.

"I was." I gasped.

"Oh, I also like to tease the hell out of my men. You should probably know that too. I'll keep them blue-balled for hours. I call it 'breaking'. If I can get a man to beg and plead, I've broken them. But not just whining. I mean tears in their eyes. It's really erotic."

"Wow. I think I'd like to try that." I said, my heart now ready to pound out of my mouth.

"We shall try many things, baby. I have much to teach you." She then stroked my cock again with a much slower pace, looking at my face for any signs of pleasure. She would gently pull my cock up, pause for a moment to see the strain on my face and then plunge her fist down to the bottom. Over and over again. Finally, after minutes of this and watching my face contort with painful frustration, she then ran a finger delicately over the head several times before stroking me again. It was becoming excruciating.

"God. Please." I hissed.

"Oh, no, baby. This is just the beginning." She then leaned over and blew gently on my right nipple staring at my face. I could not hide the exquisite pleasure that must have washed over my expression because she smiled wickedly.

"You're a nipple man? I love nipple men. They're so easy. You just tease their nipples and they're putty. So responsive. Did you know that about yourself?"

"Sort of."

"Well, I'm going to show you what you've been missing, baby." She blew again lightly as my cock expanded to obscene proportions in her hand. "Oh, wow. You're really sensitive. I'm going to fucking torture you, baby. You're ass is mine!" She delighted in this new understanding of her son as she blew and then licked and then sucked first one nipple and then the other. She was masterful. Each time I came close to ejaculating, she would stop stroking me and then use both hands on my nipples watching my face as I moaned and pleaded with her for release.

"Mom, please. This is fucking torture. Let me cum."

"No one's stopping you." And then she would slowly lower her head and lick my nipple with a diabolically sedate momentum that I could barely tolerate. We looked into each other's eyes while she did this as though two enemies in a game of wills.

After what seemed like hours she let go of me completely and just lay next to me with a shit-eating grin. I was so inflamed with physical passion and so overcome with emotion I didn't know what to do.

"What?" I asked.

"You want to fuck me?"

"Yes." I gasped breathlessly. I rolled in between her legs, mine bent beneath me as I pulled her thighs over mine. My cock pulsing and straining in between her labial folds. Our eyes met and we both became very serious. She looked at my cock where a dot of seminal fluid appeared at the tip. My mother and I both saw it. She put her finger just at the tip of the bubble and rubbed it gently around the head of my painfully hard penis.

"Before you fuck me, baby, there's something you need to know." She kept staring at my penis as she delicately rubbed my pre-cum over and over the head. "I call the shots. I tell you when you can cum. If you feel like you can't hold on, pull out and we'll take a break. I know you're young and you're probably incredibly frustrated right now. I'll bet you're just aching to explode, aren't you?"

I only nodded. I was too frenzied to speak.

"Well, part of being a man means holding it in for your lady. Last night, when I fucked Mike, he could hold out for a long time. You want to fuck me better than Mike, right? You don't want me to want him more than I want you, do you, baby?"

She then took the cum-moistened finger from my cock and ran it over my nipple. "I'm not going easy on you, am I, baby?" She pouted, knowing how much she controlled my every breath. My every thought. I was lost to this woman.

"Put it in, sugar." And I did. I eased my cock inside of her and began thrusting, but it wasn't long before I could feel myself starting to climax with all that she had put me through. I pulled out and groaned in agony, trying to hold back my orgasm.

My mother did nothing to help me. She rose up and started sucking on a nipple. "Oh, God! Watching you so frustrated gets me so fucking hot. Hold on, baby. Don't cum!"

"Please, stop doing that to me. My nipples. Please, they're so sensitive!" I begged her to stop. She didn't. Instead I could see her smiling as she continually sucked. I grabbed the base of my cock to stop my orgasm and after a moment I could feel my cum return to a holding pattern.

She could sense this too and reclined once again as I crawled between her legs. I grabbed my cock and once again began to ride my mother. I tried to kiss her but she held me up with her arms. "Oh no. I need access to these." She licked her fingers again and began slowly and gently pulling my nipples. I tried to ignore the intense pleasure, and concentrate on holding back while thrusting deeply into her, but each time I tried she would use those extraordinary vaginal muscles or tug a nipple or, when she really wanted to push me over the edge, she'd say something to knock me completely off guard.

"God! You fuck me just like your father!" She'd cry. I pulled out again to stem the tide of my mounting orgasm until, finally, I started to break. It was just as she said. I simply couldn't take it any more. "Oh, Mom. Please. Let me cum!" My body began to shake as though I were sobbing, yet I wasn't crying, my body had just become so frustrated, it didn't know how else to respond.

She looked at me and said in a completely different tone, one of pure affection and warmth: "Okay, baby. No more games. Cum in me." She laid me down on the bed and straddled me, her warm pussy taking my erection into her wetness. "You won't even need to move." Her inner muscles began to contract, stroking me. Our eyes met and she smiled, not as a vixen or a mistress, but as a mother.

"Cum, baby. Cum. Don't hold back." She stroked my nipples lovingly and smiled expectantly. "I can feel it, baby. There it is. You feel it?"

"Oh, God. Yes!" And then I came. Hard. Endlessly. I poured an hours worth of teasing and cock torture into her. My mother's eyes widened with genuine surprise.

"Holy shit! You were really frustrated there, weren't you?" She said as pulse after pulse of my semen gushed into her pussy.

After we recovered she looked down on me and smiled with affection. "So this is okay? It wasn't too weird?"

I sighed with a glowing satisfaction. "No. It's not weird. I want to make you cum though."

"You will. Don't worry. You like licking pussy?"

I just smiled and moaned.

"Good, because I love being teased to death."

"Good." I warned her. "Because I am going to make you wish you never taught me how to be so cruel."