Mum's the Word {John Jabbin} {MF inc NC Mother/Son}
jjabbin@yahoo.com
This is my first post. The only reason I post these
stories is so that people will tell me what they think
of them. This one's pretty tame as things go. If you
want to read more, you have to pay the price by letting
me know you liked this perverted little tale. Write me
at the e-mail address above.
If you're a minor, don't read this. If it's illegal in
your country to be in possession of about sex,
please destroy all copies of this work. Practice safe
sex reading please.
Mum's the Word
I dropped by Mum's flat on the way home from work.
She'd been having a hard go of it since her second
husband had died three weeks ago. I was worried about
the gal even though I was still a bit pissed at how
she had treated my several years ago when she up
and left him.
No one answered when I rang the door, so I used the key
that she had given me a long time back. I was planning
on leaving her a note just to say I dropped by. What I
found changed my plans for the day and for my life.
There was Mum, passed out royally on the couch in the
living room. Around her were the remains of her own
little pity-party: used tissues, photo albums and an
empty bottle of gin. At first I felt sorry for her, and
then I had a better gander at the photos she had been
reminiscing over.
There, lovingly preserved, were pictures of Mum and
George (her second husband) going back for many years.
And not just any pictures either! Most of them showed
Mum in various stages of nakedness doing obscene things
with dear ol' George. In one she was on her knees
humming a tune around George's skinny little skin
flute. In another, she was on all fours with a look of
ecstasy as he porked her from behind. In all, the album
documented a veritable cornucopia of sexual delights I
would have thought impossible of dear ol' Mum.
She had always been a bit straight-laced with us
children. She was a good-looking woman and I had
certainly wanked off often enough with the thought that
it was Mum sliding up and down on my staff. But the
thought that she was actually enjoying a robust sex
life on the side would have been a concept I would have
never guessed.
Looking at Mum's pictures really made me randy. My
cock, which is a bit above average but I'm happy to
report is considerably bigger than George's diminutive
dick, was begging for attention. I double-checked and
Mum was still well gone, so I picked up the albums and
went to sit beside her on the couch. As I set down
close to her, I noticed that Mum wasn't wearing any
knickers under her housecoat.
I laid her flat on the coach and pulled the housecoat
aside and sure enough, Mum's puss was as and
swollen as her nose and eyes. She hadn't just been
reminiscing over poor dead George, she had been
frigging herself as well. Probably the whore was
off her stride from not getting a constant supply of
steady fucking since ol' George was gone. As I let my
fingers wander through her brown bush and slide across
the puffy lips of her cunt, she didn't bat an eye or
move a muscle.
I had been thinking about just sitting beside my Mum
and getting the pleasure of wanking off next to her
undetected, but after seeing Mum's pretty puss, my cock
had other plans. If Miss Muffy was lonely, why not give
her a little company for the day.
I quickly stripped off my clothes and then climbed up
on the couch between Mum's legs. I spread her out,
throwing one leg over the back of the couch and pushing
the other over the side. Then it was just a matter of
wetting the head of my prick with a little spittle and
bringing the soldier to bear on Mum's hairy snatch.
Oh, what a lovely she had, too! The only thing
that would have been better than the first taste of
fucking Mum would have been if her eyes had flown open
as I sank into her. She gave a bit of a moan as she
took me in, but unfortunately she didn't wake up, even
when I started fucking her with gusto. She was dry at
first, but after just a bit, her was alive and wet
even while she was still out of it. She ended up having
a fine sloppy cunt, which was very nice since she was
only lying there and not moving.
All my thoughts of fucking Mum over the years came back
to me and it wasn't long before I was filling her puss
with my wet, sticky load. She must have really drank
herself stupid, because as I was cuming in her I
couldn't help but kiss the broad right in the
mouth. Her breath tasted like the flowers of gin and
her mouth was as warm and soft as her cunt.
I've certainly had more lively women, but I can't
remember when I've enjoyed cuming in a finer than
Mum's. I determined right then that I'd be sure and
keep a lot of gin on hand at her house just in case she
started feeling melancholy again. But, I must say,
fucking Mum didn't help me to stay mad at her. In fact,
I felt positively sentimental about the ol' gal after I
had shot off into her snatch. It's hard to stay mad at
a you've just in so sweetly.
So I picked her up and carried her to her room to bed
her down. She didn't weight a lot, being a slender
woman, and weighted even less after I stripped her of
her clothes. Of course, after I put her on her bed, I
gave myself a good look at her from top-to-toe.
Her were not large and, being on her back, they
tended to sag just a bit in opposite direction. She had
a pretty face and fine, full lips. I thought about
stuffing my cock in her mouth, but I've never really
been fond of that. Now, if she were awake and on her
knees, that would be another matter.
Her tummy was a little soft and her legs could have
used a bit of firming up, but all-in-all she was not a
bad looker for a woman near her forties. When I pushed
her legs up to her chest to have a good look at her
well-used snatch, she did moan a bit. Perhaps she was
coming 'round. In any case, I must say that my
beginning to dribble from her was a definite
improvement to the picture.
I rolled her on her front and got the same nice view of
her backside. As I spread her bum cheeks and got a good
look at her little brown hole, I decided the time was
ripe to live another fantasy. I've always fancied a bit
of buggery, but never found a bird that was willing to
accommodate me.
A quick trip to the water closet provided the lubricant
that would work just fine. I had a fine time lathering
up the ol' rod, getting it nice and greasy. As I spread
her cheeks and set the head in place, Mum still didn't
move a muscle. She began to squirm a bit as I drove
Little John home, but after I was firmly seated, she
settled back down.
Her bum was better than her cunt, of course, being the
tighter of the two. And if anything, I was even more
randy for her than before, having had a nice feel-up
for a while now. Best of all, even though it felt like
I wasn't the first that had been back there, it was my
Mum's bum that I was humping fairly hard. I don't think
I could have taken much, but as I began laying into her
heavy, sliding in and out of her slippery ass, she
started grunting on each downthrust. Just hearing the
ol' gal huff and puff made me blow my load that much
quicker down her colon.
After I had pulled out and wiped Little John off in her
lovely hair, I went in search of Mum's instant photo
camera. I found it promptly in her closet and returned
to her bedroom for a few souvenirs of my own. Propping
her legs up, I got a couple of nice close-ups of my
sperm dribbling out of both her lovely holes and I got
a few shots from further back as well.
I did end up leaving her that note before I left.
Dear Mum,
I hope you don't mind that I took the liberty of
putting you to bed. The next time you feel the need to
drown your sorrows, give me a ring. I'll bring the gin
and be sure you're tucked safely to bed in the end. By
the way, I've borrowed your photo album 'till I've had
a chance to go through it proper. There are a couple of
pictures that I may want to get enlarged and framed,
but no worries. I'll bring it by again tomorrow when
I'm done. Perhaps we can share a toast or two then.
Cheerio now...
Your son,
John.
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