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Mom’s Insecurities

Incest stories | January 18th, 2014 |

I woke to Rascal poking me with his cold wet nose. I tried to shoo him away, but he’d have no part of it. He jumped up onto the bed and started waging his tail and licking my face. I wondered why he was waking ME up to take him out. He normally slept in mom’s room and would wake her to take him.

“OK, OK. I’m up Rascal, I’m up.” I pulled him close and bit him playfully on his face, growling into his soft fur, “Who’s the bad dog Rascal? Who’s the bad dog? Hims the bad dog, yes hims is.” I bit him again then pushed him off the bed.

Yes…I “baby talk” to the dog like a few million other pet owners. He’s one of the family. I’m sure if my mom had a purse big enough…she’d put him in it and carry his ass around everywhere she went.

I rubbed my eyes and got my bearings. I was in my Mom’s room. Last night came flooding back to me. I looked at the clock, 9:15. I spun around; Mom was sleeping soundly next to me. She looked so peaceful, so content. Her hair lay in her face in whispers covering one eye and barely teasing the corner of her pretty mouth. Her mouth was slightly open; her quiet, steady, breathing causing the few strands of hair that lay across her full lips to dance around aimlessly. I had to fight the urge to kiss her…just on the cheek…maybe softly on the corner of her mouth. I didn’t want to wake her. We’d fallen asleep just a couple of hours ago.

Rascal whined at the door to go out. I slipped out of bed as quietly as I could. I was naked. I shot a quick look out the open bedroom door to make sure my little brother wasn’t looking in. It wouldn’t do to have to try and explain what I was doing in Mom’s bed, let-a-lone what I was doing naked. I tease him a lot about being “slow”…But he’s not a moron.
I fetched my pants and pulled them on as fast as I could and headed to the back door to take Rascal out. Timmy lay sleeping on the couch unbothered by Racal.

I let Rascal out, stretched, and surveyed the morning sky as I stepped out onto the patio. It was cloudy grey; looked like rain. I made my way to the lawn chair and flopped my tired ass down while Rascal smelled EVERY place that EVERY dog had EVER peed…since the time the Woolly German Sheppard chased dinosaurs on this very beach.

I sat and recalled every second Mom had shared with me the night before and into the early hours of this morning; the weight of her breasts in my hand, the feel of her soft skin, the taste of the ocean and wine on her lips. Before I could get completely lost in the sweet recollections, I became filled with a kind of nervousness, a fear. My entire body shivered. “Suppose she’s sorry?”

My biggest fear was that she might be sorry about what had happened; sorry the salty spay of the ocean, the sound of the waves, the moon light and the wine had caused her to make a horrible mistake. I hoped desperately that wouldn’t be the case. I didn’t want her to be sorry. I couldn’t bear the thought of ME giving her yet another reason to be sad. On the contrary…I wanted to be the one get her past all that, to show her that there was a life after Dad. I wanted to show her that she was…special.

I let Rascal in after he’d finally found a place that was worthy of his pee. I went straight to the kitchen to make coffee. I was tired and a bit groggy, but oddly energized at the same time, somewhat aroused by the memories I’d conjured up of me and my mom and, until I was sure of how she felt about everything, a bit nervous as well. I needed to know how Mom felt about our…encounter. All and all, I was optimistic and looking forward to finding out what the day would bring.

Timmy was up by the time the coffee was brewed.
“Where’s Mom?”
“Still sleeping.”
“She OK?”
Mom was usually the first one up.
“She’s fine, we were up kinda late last night, that’s all.”
“How come?”

His question evoked images and memories of the way Mom felt in my arms, how she smelled and the way everything seemed to disappear for that short time we lay on the wet sand.

“Because we were checking out different schools on the internet.”
“Schools? For what?”
“For you.” I told him as I poured myself a cup of hot coffee. It smelled sooo good. {Ya ever notice that the more ya NEED coffee…The better it smells?}
“For me? What for?” Timmy lashed.
“You know, special schools…{I signed Quotations with my fingers with the word- Special} …that will teach you how to count, dress yourself and wipe your own ass… and maybe they can even do something about that masturbation problem too. I’m surprised you’re not blind yet.”
“I DON’T DO THAT!” He yelled.
“Shhhh, you’ll wake Mom up”
“I’m tellen when she gets up.”

I smiled and slipped a glass of juice in front of him. “Eggs alright for breakfast?
“Well, maybe lunch will work out for ya then.”

I made breakfast for him anyway. We ate, talked and figured we’d just let Mom sleep and hit the waves early before the rain moved in. I cleaned up our breakfast dishes while Timmy got into his bathing suit.

I put a mug on a napkin right near the coffee maker for Mom. I laid a clean spoon beside it and placed the sugar bowl alongside as well. I poured a little milk in a small juice glass and set it down next to the mug and then grabbed pen and paper to write Mom a note.
I told her to come get me as soon as she got her coffee, I wanted to make her some breakfast.

What I really wanted was to SEE her, look in her eyes. I needed to know how she felt about last night and was pretty sure the answer would be in those first few seconds our eyes met.
It was important to me that she smile first thing this morning. So I explained in the note, in length, why I’d put the milk in the small juice glass next to her mug. I explained in as few words as possible, how everyone knows if you love someone…Really LOVE someone…enough, you shouldn’t let them put COLD milk in HOT coffee. “It simply isn’t right.” I wrote.

I went on to say how well aware I was of the debates and the growing controversy surrounding the “Cold milk in hot coffee vs. room temperature milk” issue.
And went on to tell her how opening that refrigerator door the 4 or 5 times each morning for creamer, tallied up per-week…per-month, and multiplied by the estimated gross population of dedicated coffee drinkers…adds up to a phenomenal amount of wasted energy each year. Enough to run an electric subway train {One car…Empty} for more than 6 ft. Give or take.

I folded the note and dropped it in her empty mug.

Me and Timmy headed out to the ocean with Rascal leading the way. I mostly lounged on my towel trying not to fall asleep while Timmy and Rascal did their thing. It was just before 11:00 when I heard Mom calling from the patio.
“Hey Shit for Brains…” I yelled to Timmy. He flipped me off. “You gunna be able to hang out here with the dog without drowning the both of you?”
He stopped in his tracks, “Where you going?”
“Moms calling me.”
“Go-head, who cares.”
I got up and hurried back to the cottage.

Mom was standing on the patio in a long T-Shirt that came down to the middle of her thighs. She held her cup of coffee with this… ‘’You think you’re funny don’t you’’…look on her face. I noticed the coffee stained note in her other hand. It would seem she’d started to pour coffee in her mug before she noticed the note. I could tell right away…She was happy. I saw no sign of sorrow or conflict in her beautiful eyes.

“Thanks for the thought.” She says as she holds her mug up in a mock toast. She had no way of knowing that she was all I’d thought about all morning.
“And thanks for the lesson in thermal anomalies. Pretty deep.”
“Well, I’m just trying to get the word out….Get everyone a little ‘Greener’ ya know?”

We stepped close together, our eyes dancing, neither of us willing to broach the subject or show the other what was really on their minds.
“What’s your brother doing?”
“Running around with Rascal.”

Mom turned her head up and down the beach, shading her eyes with her hand even though there was no sun to speak of, looking for Timmy. He was so far down the beach that if not for Rascal running and jumping all around him, he would have been hard to identify.

“Ready for some breakfast?” I asked as I stepped even closer.
“It’s almost 11:00.” She giggled, the recollection of why she’d slept in so late, flickered in her eyes. I know this because she blushed as she said it. She looked young and vibrant, with a girl-next-door beauty that I couldn’t look away from. I had no doubt that I was looking at the woman my father had fallen in love with so many years ago. And it was easy to see why he had.

“Are…you OK?” I asked, jumping head first into water, no longer able to wait for conversation to take the long way around. I had to know how she felt; had to hear the words. I wanted to kiss her and I wanted to know if I should.
She looked over my shoulder, out along the grey/blue horizon as if the answer might be out there someplace. A smile creped slowly onto the place I wanted so badly to kiss.
“I’m good.” She told me slowly as if maybe she wasn’t quite sure. “I’m really good.” she amended as our eyes once again met.
She reached up and caressed my face with the backs of her fingers, a damp corner of the coffee-stained note dangling in her hand, barely touching my lip. She glanced over my shoulder to make sure her other son was occupied…then thrust her head forward and gave me a kiss; quick and hard on the lips, like a young girl kisses her boyfriend on the front porch steps after her father has flicked the porch light on and off a few times to hurry her along. A kiss that I wanted so badly to pull her into.

“You said something in here…She wiggled the note in my face…about cooking me some breakfast.”
“Technically, it’s more like brunch now, but I guess since ya got it in writing, there’s no backin out.”
“Well…You didn’t actually sign it, so I guess ‘Technically’ anybody could have written it…Anyone that really loves me, I mean.”
“I can’t imagine there’s anyone who loves you more than me.” I told her keeping up with the playful banter but knowing full well I’d never spoken truer words.

I love my mom, always have. But this was different. As “Wrong” as some might say it is…As un-natural as it might seem to most…I believed I was falling in love with her. Sometime last night she had become an enchanting, desirable woman with an inner beauty that far exceeded the beautiful exterior that everyone who saw her, was fortunate enough to see. I had known no one like her in all my young life and was sure I would never know another through the end of days.

I’m not the sharpest bulb in the shed or the brightest tool on the tree and sometimes I might get my mirds a little wixed up… But I was pretty sure I knew what love was.

She crammed the note in my front pocket, for lack of a better place to put it, and took my hand. “Come on.” Mom says. “I’m hungry.”
She gave Timmy a final glance then turned towards the sliding glass doors. I was
half-a-step behind her. I felt……Wonderful…and I wanted to make sure she felt the same way.

We had just barely gotten in the door when Mom stopped abruptly and turned to face me. My momentum closed the distance between us and we ended up nose to nose.
“Are you OK with what happened?” she asked, a deep need, a longing in her eyes with just a hint of sadness, no doubt reserved for an answer she didn’t want to hear. Like me…She had to be sure. She had to hear me say the words before she would risk exposing herself, so-to-speak.
“I’m more than OK with it.”

I wasn’t trying to build up her self-esteem, drag her away from the edge, throw her a Coast Gaud approved floating device…I was just being honest. I suppose she saw the truth in my eyes because that tiny shard of sadness I’d seen in her eyes just seconds before…had disappeared.

Mom’s mouth moved the tiny bit needed to reach mine, my lips welcomed it. My arms slid around her thin waist and we kissed. A soft, content kiss. I felt Mom’s body relax, like settling into a nice hot bath after being caught in a late November rain. I’m not sure if it was a sign of relief or just a simple surrender but I felt her lips quickly turn from two full soft whispers of velvet into two large cats, claws out, converging on a single source of food.

Her fingers sweep across my cheek and come to rest on the nape of my neck. Her other hand makes its way someplace behind me as she tries to pull me even closer…Electricity shoots through me. My body jerks and spasms as my brain fights her lips for control of my senses. I tense and Mom feels it.
She quickly pulls her lips away, her eyes open and she looks into mine. I watch her eyes fill with that sorrowing look; the look that a mere moment ago, her eyes had had no room for. I pull away. The look turns from sorrowing to horror as she takes a quick step back.

I know what she’s thinking, that I’m rejecting her advance, her kiss.
“Your coffee.” I cried before Mom had a chance to respond any further.
She looked down at her cup…It was almost empty. For a second Mom looked confused. When she noticed that I was rubbing the small of my back, a moment of clarity fell over her. She’d spilled her coffee down the back of my pants.
Mother mode kicked in and she spun me around to check the damage.

“Oh my god Brian!’’
“I’m OK. I’m OK”
“Did it burn you, Sweetie? Are you sure you’re OK?”
“Yeah-no-I’m good. It just shocked me, that’s all.”

Mom continued to inspect my back. She tucked her fingers carefully into my jeans and pulled them away from my red ass-cheeks.
“I burned your butt Brian. It’s all red.”
“Fire engine red or just apple red?”
“Burned red.” She tells me sorrowfully, apologetically not willing to be sidetrack by my feeble attempts at humor.

Mom looks at me, “I should really get a better look at this.”
“My butt?”
She shakes her head, “Um-huh”
Remember now, I’m not the sharpest bulb, the brightest tool.
I shake my head, “It’s OK. I’m fine, really.”
You need to get out of these wet pants and let me look at that. ‘’She tells me, her tone more adoring, more playful; her eyes lighting up the room.

Now it’s my turn for clarity, though with ME… The boat seems to be going up stream…Dragging oars.
Mom rushes back to the sliding doors and searches the beach. She spots Timmy knee deep in the surf, Rascal biting at the surfs foam as each wave chases him back up the beach.
“In the bathroom.” She says. Even though we’re alone, she whispers. With one hand on my shoulder she pushes me along as she ushers me to the bathroom. She puts her useless coffee cup on the table as we go through the kitchen.

Once in the bathroom, Mom steps up behind me and slips both hands around my waist. She’s no longer afraid of rejection… Or compliance for that matter…. She knew what she wanted and as the winds began to swirl and the fire deep inside my mother began to rekindle, Mom boldly reached around and unbuttoned my jeans.

“If Timmy comes back in, we’ll tell him I scolded you.” She says as she pulls down my fly with shaky hands. Her hot breath on my shoulder blade screams to my dick to get up. But my dick is already half awake, rubbing the sleep from its eye.
“We’d have to put something on it, right?” She whispers as she slides her hands to my hips and begins to slide my jeans down.
“That’s why we’re in here.” She states rather affirmatively as if I’m the one she’s trying to convince.
“Shouldn’t we get the first Aid kit?” I asked, figuring that might make the lie a little more believable.
She just told me “No’ and went on with the task at hand.

The last strands of maternal mortality were being stretched taught as she knelt behind me and lowered my pants halfway down my ass to inspect the severity of my wound.
“It looks OK.” She tells me.
I feel her hands on my thighs as she slips the jean down a little further.
My eyes are closed and my heart is thumping in my chest.

“I’m sorry.” Mom whispers. I can feel her breath on the cheek of my ass. “I can fix it like I used to.”
She kisses my red mark ever-so-gently. Once…and then a long second later…Again.
No words are spoken. I HAVE no words for this.

Well sure…Hot…Sensuous…Erotic…Taboo…Best ever…But I had no way of forming actual sentences. These words along with all the others, were just left laying on the floor while my entire population of brain cells hoped a vein to the “Feel Good” room, where they grabbed a beer, put their feet up, tucked their hands into the front of their pants…and enjoyed.

Mom’s hands slowly make their way around. I feel her fingertips teasing my pubic area as her kisses lead her around one side of my thigh. I stop breathing as her long manicured fingernails tickle their way along my hard shaft to play with the swollen tip of my cock. I should breathe but the concept eludes me. The only things I seem to be aware of are her soft lips that glide over my skin, the tip of her tongue that peeks out between those lips and the fingers that are now closing around a dick that’s never been this hard before.

Mom slowly turns me by my handle {At least I think I’m the one turning} kissing a path, every tiny part of me that passes her lips receives a kiss; each one getting harder, stronger as her passion builds and her control dwindles.

In what seems like hours of bliss, I’ve come 180°. My mother kneels in front of me on her bare knees, in her flimsy T-Shirt, the nipples now clearly hard enough to strain the thin material. I watch her covering her new best friend with tiny kisses. Her lips pressing harder and harder against my hot skin each time they touch me. One hand holds firmly to my offering…Or perhaps at this point it’s more of a beloved hostage…while the other hand travels back and forth over my stomach, down over my thigh and through the light patch of pubic hair that I keep at the base of my dick.

Mom leaves no stone unturned as she slides the tip of her tongue down the belly of my shaft and onto the soft skin sack where I keep my balls. Her kisses have turned to light sucks, each one getting stronger and more consuming as her effort to contain her lust fades away.

As if suddenly aware that we’re pressed for time, Mom stands up quickly in front of me, never letting go of the prize; her other hand lifts her T-Shirt. She has no panties on. She kisses me and sucks my bottom lip into her mouth. Her urgency is as apparent as the pre-cum that drips off the head of my red, swollen cock.

I have been passive, submissive, awe struck up to this point; watching my mother, letting her go at her own pace, letting her feel her way, as it were. I could see…A blind man could see…that Mom had a great deal of desire that had been dormant or maybe just restrained. It needed to be set free, to evolve into whatever it was going to become. This wasn’t the place and we didn’t have the time we needed but Mom looked like she was ready to put what time we had to good use.

She hurried herself up onto the vanity, spreading her legs and pulling me closer as she did. One hand slid behind my head; she drew my face to hers. “I want this.” She told me in a quiet but stern voice, almost a growl as she gave my dick a firm squeezed. She guided the head of my dick to the opening of her hot, wet coochie. The second I felt the heat…I pushed in. Mom’s head fell back, her fingers tangled in my hair. She threw her legs around my ass, tightened her grip and arched up as best she could to receive me. When I was in as far as I could get, Mom covered my mouth with hers, and we started to Fuck.

There was no other way to put it. We didn’t make love. We didn’t slowly work our way up to a greater level of passion. We FUCKED. From the first stroke we were on a shared quest, a common goal……To cum. We had no time for anything else. We knew that my little brother could put a stop to this at any second…so we fucked. Like two kids looking at the clock at 5:55 …fucking…knowing full well someone will be home from work at six…sharp.

I pushed into my mother, lifting up onto my tip-toes trying to take advantage of every fraction of leverage I could get. Mom met each thrust with a muffled grunt and a hard jerk of her pelvis. Everything on the vanity was rattling and shaking. The liquid soap and the plastic cup made their ways to the edge of the sink and then fell to the floor. I broke the towel rack off the wall looking for something to push off of.

“Fuck me!” Mom groaned into my neck. “Make me cum!”
I could feel myself getting closer and closer to the edge. Every thrust and every word my mom cried into my ear brought me that much closer.
“Oh God Brian!!! Come on Sweetie-Come on!!! Jesus Brian, Fuck me!!!”
“I’m gunna cum!!!” I pushed the words through clenched teeth followed by a low groaning noise that spewed out of me. I sounded like a speeding 18 wheeler gearing down for a red light.
“Come on Baby, come on!!! Yeah, do it-cum in me!!!”

Without another word screamed, I blasted into my mother. The surge of come that shot out, took what little breath I had, away. I pushed in as deep as I could get and released a torrent of cum inside my mother’s coochie. Mom welcomed each hard spurt with a sharp, quick grunt of her own that passed from her mouth to mine. {Somewhere between 8 and 200 hard, quick spurts} As I felt the last rope leave my tired cock and Mom begin to jerk her hips with the beginnings of her own orgasm…we heard the Rascal bark.
“Hey…” Timmy yelled.
We never heard the sliding glass doors open or shut.

Mom pushed me away…Out of heaven. Thank God there wasn’t a great deal of dressing to be done. I quickly pulled my jeans up over my still hard cock and Mom simply pulled her T-Shirt down to where it belonged.
“Where is everybody?”
In the blink of an eye, Mom spun me around, my back to the door, unbuttoned my jeans again, and pulled them down to expose the top half of my ass.

“What are you doing?”
I’d thought she’d lost her mind.
Had I cum in her so hard that I’d caused brain damage? I mean, I felt a little “Slow” from the experience on my end, had Mom suffered some kind of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder from the blast?
Then she opened the bathroom door!!!!! I HAD fucked her up. I had literally FUCKED HER BRAINS OUT.

“In here…” Mom calls to Timmy as she holds me in place.
“Mom?” I could hear the uncertainty in my own voice.
“Trust me.” She says.
There was no time to do anything else.
“I spilled hot coffee on your brother, could you go get the First-Aid kit out of the car?”

It would appear Mom had gathered her wits way before I could.
[In my defense, I had more gathering to do. My wits were like Paratroopers jumping from the plane into a category 6 hurricane. They were all over the place]

“Now calm down.” Mom tells me with a little smile as she wrapped a little toilet paper around her hand. She spread her legs a little, wiped up a small stream of cum that was making its way down her leg and then to my surprise, pushed the wad of toilet paper up into her wet coochie {A finger in the damn, so-to-speak}. She held it there with a quiet moan for a long second or two and then left it there.

“That should do until I can get some panties on.”
Timmy came jogging in the house, First-Aid kit in hand. He stood in the bathroom doorway and handed it to Mom with a giggle as I stood there keeping my jeans from falling down any more.
“Burned your ass, huh?” He says with a great deal of happiness, making a point not to hide it.

“I can’t believe I did this.” Mom says while she takes the top off a tube of Neosporin, squeezes a little out onto her fingers, and begins to lightly smear it on “The infected area”.
I jerked away from her touch.”
“Hurts, huh?” The little terd declares with a heavy measure of satisfaction.

Mom replaced the cap, put it back in the kit, and handed it back to Timmy.
“Could you put it back for me too Baby?” She asks.
Timmy all but skipped back out to the car, pleased with my misfortune and for the most part, amused Mom had to rub medicine on my bare butt. I’m sure he figured the embarrassment was killing me, but that couldn’t have been further from the truth.

“We’re gunna have to find away to finish.” She tells me as she runs her fingers through her hair. “I’m a mess” she tells the bathroom mirror. I silently disagreed.
I must-of looked confused. That “Sharp Tool” “Bright Bulb” thing again.
“I didn’t get to…You know.” She whispers.
She didn’t cum, I say to myself. “Oooohhhhhhh…Right. Oh wow…what do you…”

Mom cut me off with a single finger in the air. She shut the door real quick to keep Timmy from seeing. Then she gave me a relatively short but passionate kiss that ended with her tongue sweeping across my lips. I felt my dick move.
“We can’t do anything about it right now.” She says as she opens the door again. “Run and grab me a pair of panties, will ya Sweetie?” She asks. “In the top left-hand draw.” She added as she shut the door behind me.

I knocked, panties in hand, Timmy and Rascal someplace outside, and then opened the door. Mom had one foot up on the side of the tub, her knees slightly bent; she’s wiping her coochie with a wet washcloth. She seems to linger on each pass.
“We’ll have to figure something out.” She assures me with a quiet whimper as she makes small circles with the washcloth.

She shoos me out of the bathroom.
We spent the rest of the day trying to figure out a way to be together.

Testimonials to “Mom’s Insecurities”

  1. stanley2 says:

    Sorry,but this story did not get my attention,even after reading it twice….

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