index


Message-ID: <61554asstr$1318284605@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Scott Lakewood <fudpucker72@gmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Turn of Events (F/m, inc, rom, 1st, ped, cons, oral)
Lines: 863
Date: Mon, 10 Oct 2011 18:10:05 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d


<1st attachment, "events.txt" begin>

Turn of Events

A Short Story by Scott Lakewood
F/m, inc, rom, 1st, ped, cons, oral.

--------------------------<[ + ]>---------------------------

I didn't realize exactly how far things could go, but I 
found out when the turn of events changed everything.

Up until this summer, I would have said that I was a 
normal, average, plain, (if not a little bit geeky) 
fourteen-year-old guy. The turn of events over the 
hot, humid weeks past have not been average, plain, 
or normal, but no one involved would have ever thought 
they were going to participate in such things. Strange 
how life takes little turns that no one ever dreamed 
would happen. 

It all started when the Base Chaplain and two Naval 
Officers came to the door on June 1. Having grown up 
in a military family, we all had heard the stories 
about these unwelcome groups of three that no one 
wanted to see getting out of a car in the neighborhood. 
It could only mean one thing. We called them "The 
Ghoul Squad"...

I had been over at the Rec Center, hanging out (by 
myself, as usual) and trying not to be noticed by 
the older boys who seemed to think that their mission 
in life was to torture the younger guys like me. I 
went inside to grab a soda from the machine, only to 
discover that I didn't have any money on me, and so I 
hopped on my bike to ride home, intending to get some 
change so I could come back to the center. My house was 
only a few blocks away from the rec center, so I 
shouldn't be gone long. They had a brand new Playstation, 
and my name was on the list to use it today. 

I sure as heck wasn't going to miss that, especially 
since my mom had said that dad would have to give his 
permission for me to have one, and dad's ship wasn't 
coming home until September. So, I pedaled on home, and 
as soon as I turned onto my street, I saw the car coming 
from the other end of the road. A blue Navy sedan. I got 
a chill, because I knew those guys always meant bad news. 
I slowed down to see where they were going, because I 
knew everyone on this street, and most of them had 
someone on board the same ship my dad was on. Just about 
the time I got to my house, they pulled over to the curb. 
Right where I was going. Oh man... This couldn't be good.

I knew that mom was home today, and that she didn't have 
any houses to show, (she's a realtor in the community 
where the Naval Base is located) and so I threw my bike 
down on the lawn, and ran inside before the Ghoul Squad 
could get out of their car. "Mom!" I hollered. "I think 
you had better come to the front door." 

"Okay, honey... I'll be there in a minute," she replied. 
She walked into the living room, wiping her hands on a 
towel, since she'd been in the kitchen, probably getting 
ready to make lunch or something. She really shouldn't 
have been home, because she was supposed to go play tennis 
with Mrs. Simpson, the lady who lived next door. Her 
husband, Commander Simpson, was shipmates with my dad, and 
the two women often played tennis or shopped together or 
whatever moms do when they're not at home. Anyway, mom 
came out of the kitchen, and stopped short when she saw 
the three officers walking up the path from the curb 
through the front door that I had clumsily left open in 
my haste to get in before they did. I could see her wilt, 
her face crumble, as she realized why they were coming. 

The senior officer, a Lieutenant Commander by the stripes 
on his shoulder boards, stopped at the door, with the 
chaplain and the junior officer standing slightly behind 
him. 

He removed his sparkling white hat, cleared his throat, 
and spoke through the open door, "Mrs. Harrison? I'm 
Lieutenant Commander Sharpe, from the base casualty 
office." He didn't get another word out of his mouth, 
before my mother sank into a nearby chair, and let 
out a low moan of disbelief.

"Noooooo..." she wailed. "It can't be! I just got an email 
from him last night!" she sobbed. 

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this Mrs. Harrison, but 
your husband was killed in an accident aboard ship early 
this morning, local time." He extended his hand, in 
which was the traditional yellow Western Union telegram 
envelope. I already hated him, and I hated that damn 
envelope in his hand too.

I just stood there, open-mouthed, and in total shock. 
My dad wasn't ever coming home again? What had happened 
out there? I knew aircraft carriers were dangerous, 
but dad wasn't an aviator! He was an Intelligence Officer, 
and not even on flight duty. His job was to evaluate 
reconnaissance photos taken by A-6 crews! How could he 
have been involved in an aircraft accident on board 
his ship? He hardly ever went out on deck, he always 
told me. "What the hell happened to my dad?" I screamed. 

The chaplain stepped forward and took me by the elbow. 
"Son," he said, "I know this is going to be difficult 
for you, so please let us talk to your mom. Lieutenant 
Jackson here will go with you, to another room, and he 
will explain everything that he can. Commander Sharpe 
and I will stay here and talk with your mom." I dumbly 
stumbled toward my room, not knowing or caring if the 
stupid lieutenant was following me or not. 

I walked into my bedroom, my eyes blurry with tears, 
and heard the lieutenant close the door behind him 
as he followed me in. I just stood there, staring out 
into space, trying not to cry so blatantly, when I 
heard the desk chair scrape across the floor. "What's 
your name?" the lieutenant asked. 

"Davey," I replied, dumbly. 

"How old are you?" he asked. 

"Fourteen, last month," I said.

"Well, David," he said, "Your dad was trying to help 
a deck crew rescue an F-18 pilot who had been shot up 
on an attack run over a target in the Middle East." 

I wondered where he got off calling me by my given 
name, until I realized that he knew I had been named 
after Dad. David Patrick Harrison, Jr. "You mean he was 
trying to help someone else?" I asked. I still couldn't
turn around and look at him.

"Yes, he was," was the calm reply. "He was trying 
to help the deck crew get the pilot out of the plane, 
after it had crash-landed into the barrier. Do you 
know what a barrier landing is?" he asked.

"Oh, yes," I replied. "I do. Dad explained them to 
me once when I was watching some videos on the computer. 
He said that if an airplane was disabled or damaged, 
or if the pilot was hurt, that a barrier sometimes 
could be stretched across the deck to keep the plane 
from skidding off the front of the carrier, or into 
other planes on deck."

"That's right," he said. "Your dad was on his way back 
to his cabin from the communications room outside the 
bridge. He had just sent that email your mom mentioned. 
He wasn't even on duty last night."

For the first time, I turned to look at him sitting 
there at my desk, and noticed for the first time the 
gold aviator's wings on his white shirt. I focused 
on those wings for a moment, and suddenly I was 
furious. "You mean to tell me that my dad is dead, 
and he wasn't even on duty?" I shouted. "What the 
hell kind of navy do you people have, when a guy 
isn't even safe off duty?" I screamed. 

"Well, for starters, on a carrier, you're never really 
off-duty. Especially in a combat zone," came the cool 
reply. "I think you're missing the point here, David. 
Your dad was trying to help someone else."

"A fat lot of good that did him, he's dead because of 
it." I mumbled, as the anger slowly subsided. "I just 
don't understand how he could die like that." 

"Well, I'm not really supposed to tell you this," the 
lieutenant said, "but your dad ran up to where the 
firefighting crew was, at the side of the aircraft, to 
try to help get to the emergency canopy release, so the 
recovery crew could get the pilot out. Just as he pulled 
the handle, and the canopy opened, some of the rounds 
in the plane's cannon exploded, because of the heat of 
the fire around the cockpit. That caused some internal 
damage to the aircraft, and small pieces of the airplane 
struck most of the members of the rescue crew. Your dad 
was in the way of one of those pieces. Do you understand, 
David? It was a freak accident. The plane captain on the 
ship said that they wouldn't have gotten the pilot out 
in time if your dad hadn't been there to help, which 
means that he saved that pilot's life. He's a hero, David." 

"Did he feel anything?" I asked. "Did it hurt? I have 
to know." I sobbed. I was not angry anymore, and all 
I wanted to do was crawl into bed and cry, but I couldn't 
let this navy officer see that. I tried to hide my tears, 
but I wasn't very successful. 

"No, he didn't. As far as I know, he died nearly 
instantly," he said. "Your dad was very brave to run 
into danger like that, and Commander Sharpe is going 
to present your mother with two medals for your father, 
at the funeral in a couple of days. One of those medals 
is rarely given out these days, but your father is going 
to get it. It's the Gold Lifesaving Medal, and it is 
awarded for extreme bravery in saving someone's life, 
at great risk to your own. The other will be a Purple 
Heart, but I know that you know what that one is for.
If it hadn't been for your dad, that pilot wouldn't be
here, and neither would some of the deck crew either.
Your dad saved a lot of lives yesterday, and I'm sorry
that he lost his while he was doing it." 

This lieutenant was really being calm, showing me that 
I could let it out, and he wouldn't think less of me 
for it. Surprising, but I didn't know what to expect. 
I thought for a moment, and asked, "Lieutenant Jackson, 
will my dad get a full military funeral, with honors?" 

"Yes, David, he will," he said. "But before then, I need 
you to do something for me. Can you?" he asked.

"Sure, what is it," I replied. 

"You're going to have to look after your mom for the 
next few weeks. I mean really look after her. Make sure 
that she eats, that she gets some rest, has plenty of 
fluids, and all those basic things that people seem to 
forget about when they're grieving. Can you do that?"

"Yes, sir, I can do that." I was after all, a Naval 
Officer's son, and I knew some of the protocol. 

Lieutenant Jackson stood up, and stepped towards me. 
"I know you'll be fine, and you'll take good care of 
your mom. David," he said, placing his hand on my 
shoulder, "I really think you ought to try to not leave 
your mom alone in the next couple of days. Sometimes, in 
times of a sudden loss, people get really depressed, and 
never come out of it. But with your attention, and showing 
that you care about your mom, she'll be fine, I promise," 
he said. 

"I'll do my best, Sir." It was all I could say, as we 
walked back out to the living room. Mom was still sitting 
in the easy chair, and Commander Sharpe and the chaplain 
were sitting on the sofa near her. They all looked up as 
we walked back in. Mom jumped up as soon as she saw me, 
and rushed over to hug me.

"Davey," she sobbed, "we're going to be all right. Your 
dad was a hero, and he gave his life trying to save someone 
else." 

"I know mom," was my soft reply. I could see the tears in 
her eyes, and I knew that tonight was going to be a hard 
one. Little did I know that the turn of events would prove 
me right.

The commander and the chaplain stood up, they all 
expressed their sadness at our loss, and they slowly 
walked out the still-open front door. Lieutenant Jackson 
stopped, and turned to look me in the eye. He slowly 
winked, closed the door, and was gone. What was I going 
to do now?

-----

Later that evening, after a not so well prepared dinner 
of sandwiches and chips that I threw together so mom 
wouldn't have to stand in the kitchen in the shape she 
was in, we were sitting in the living room, with the 
lights out, no TV, and a quiet stillness in the house. 
I kept staring up at the mantel where a big photo of dad 
was, and I realized that I was going to have to be the 
man of the house now. I looked over at mom, sitting on 
the sofa, staring out into space, and realized that she 
felt very alone now. 

I got up from the easy chair, and went over to sit beside 
her. I reached down, took her hand, and said, "Mom, I know 
it looks pretty bleak now, but we'll get through this, I 
promise. I'll do my best to make things better, I swear I 
will. We still have each other. I know I can't ever take 
his place, but I can try to be the man of the house 
now, mom."

She smiled at me, for the first time that day, and said, 
"Davey, my baby boy, I believe you. I know you're going 
to be strong for the both of us. What would you say to 
going out on the deck in back, and watching the stars go 
by for a while? I feel like having a glass of wine, and 
you can have a soda, and we'll just sit there and enjoy 
the evening stars together. Is that okay with you?"

"Of course it is, mom. Anything you say. Would you like 
white, or red?" I smiled. 

"White, I think. Thanks. I'll be right out in a moment, 
but I have to go to the restroom first. Can you fix 
everything and take it out to the deck?" she asked.

"Right away, mom." I said. I jumped up and went to the 
kitchen. Where the heck did she keep the wine glasses? 
Oh yeah, over in the cabinet by the dining room table. 
I went over, got two glasses, and came back into the 
kitchen to get the wine out of the fridge. I had never 
worked a corkscrew before, but I'd seen it enough on TV 
to figure out how it went. I got the wine open, poured 
about half a glass for mom, and then I opened a soda and 
poured half of it into the other glass. I figured I'd share 
at least the glass with her, as we sat out on the deck and 
drank together. 

Mom came out of the restroom, and as she slid the door 
open, I got a good look at her. She was still wearing 
the tennis outfit she'd had on, but for some weird 
reason, she looked positively angelic in the soft 
moonlight. The light gleamed off of her golden blonde 
hair, and the soft backlight of a lamp in the den gave 
her tanned skin this other-worldly glow, almost. I hadn't 
really thought about it before, but my mom was pretty good 
looking. She might be almost 40, but she played tennis 
three times a week, worked out at the base gym two days a 
week, and was in better shape than I was. At least that's 
what Timmy Jones had said the last time he was over here. 
The thought of my friend telling me that he thought my mom 
was hot really made me angry at the time, but I decided 
that if I was going to be the man of the house, I had to 
be more mature, and let those kinds of things go. I sure 
as heck wasn't going to let Timmy Jones ever come back 
in my house again, though. Mom came on out and sat on the 
chair next to me, where I had placed her wineglass. She 
noticed for the first time that I had an identical glass, 
but could tell that it was soda in it. She smiled again, 
as if to tell me that it was a nice thought. 

"Davey," she said, "If there's anything you need, you just 
let me know. We're all each other has anymore," she said, 
as she burst into tears again.

"Oh mom, don't cry," I said. "It will be all right, I 
promise. I will do whatever I have to do to make it all 
right. Really I will. And you should tell me if there's 
anything you need, because you know I'll do anything for 
you."

She looked up at me, tears running down her face, and 
began to shudder with the sobs that were racking her 
body. I felt completely powerless to stop it, knowing 
that we both had to let it out, but I also knew that 
mom had an empty space in her now, and nothing I could 
do would fill it. I reached out and took her hand, and 
just held it in the moonlight. I hated that I couldn't
do anything to ease her pain. 

"Oh, Davey, what am I going to do?" she sobbed. "I don't 
know how I'm going to get through this!"

I noticed that her wineglass was empty, so I refilled it 
from the bottle I had left on the table next to me. She 
almost smiled at me, and began to sip at her wine, as she 
stared out into the blackness of our backyard. I don't 
know how long we sat out there making small talk, but I 
do know that I had to get up and open another bottle of 
wine for her, and get more sodas for me. Finally, I 
noticed that she looked a little drowsy, and I glanced 
at the clock inside the sliding glass door. It was after 
midnight! I couldn't believe we had been out there that 
long! "Mom," I said, "don't you think we ought to go 
inside? Isn't it time you tried to get some sleep?" 

She looked over at me with her red-rimmed eyes, and 
nodded. "Davey, you really are the man of the house now. 
I suppose that I had better start listening to you when 
you tell me something." she mumbled, her words slurred 
from the wine, "But, I don't think I'm steady enough 
to make it all the way by myself. Could you at least 
help me get to the bedroom?" she asked.

I was trying to be manly when I said, "Sure, mom. Anything 
for you. I'll even help you get ready for bed if you want." 
I didn't mean it to be anything other than helpful, but 
she stopped suddenly, and looked at me, with this strange 
expression on her face. 

After a moment, it was like something different, something 
more focused or powerful passed over her, and she looked 
me right in the eye. "I'd like that, young man. Lead the 
way!" she said as she stepped unsteadily toward the patio 
door. She leaned against the door, until I came around the 
chairs and lent her my shoulder to lean on. We made our way 
slowly down the hall, and stopped at her bedroom door. 
"No, not in here, Davey. I just don't think I can go in 
this room right now. How about across the hall in the guest 
room?" she said. Now, I'm fairly tall for my age, but mom 
is only about 5'-3", so I was pretty much looking at the top 
of her head when she leaned over right into me, and just 
hugged me. For some reason, it felt really odd, to have my 
mother hugging me that way, right in front of her bedroom 
door. I put it down to the two bottles of wine and the turn 
of events of this day, so trying to be casual, I just reached 
around behind her to turn the knob on the guest room door, 
and we slowly stumbled into the room. I sat her down on the 
bed, and stepped back across the hall to rummage through her 
dresser for a t-shirt or something for her to put on. I found 
this big, pink, oversized shirt that Dad had brought home from 
a cruise when they had stopped in the Bahamas or somewhere, 
and when I got back into the guest room, she was sitting there 
on the edge of the bed wearing nothing but a sports bra and 
thong panties. Her tennis outfit was strewn across the floor.

I stopped short, holding the pink t-shirt in my hands, and 
looked at her by the soft light of the bedside table. Timmy 
Jones was right. My mom was hot. I noticed the curve of her 
breasts as they filled the cups of her sports bra, the taut, 
defined muscles of her flat stomach,the curvy line of her 
hips in the thong panties she was wearing. She even had 
fantastic legs. "Boy," I thought. "I hope I end up with a 
hot chick like this when I grow up!" 

It was all I could do not to stare, until I realized I had 
used the exact same phrase Timmy had used. 'Hot chick'. This 
was my mom after all. I tried to avert my gaze, but I kept 
looking back at her. "Mom," I said, "Here's a shirt for you
to sleep in. I'll turn around so you can get changed."

I didn't get to turn around, because she didn't wait for me 
to. She just matter-of-factly pulled her sports bra right 
over her head, looking me right in the eye all the while. 
Her breasts fell free of the fabric, and I could not believe 
how smooth her skin was, and how full those breasts were. 
The nipples were small and a little darker than the rest of 
her creamy skin, and there were no tan lines either, but 
geez, these were my mom's boobs I was ogling! What was the 
deal here? "Mom, um, here's your shirt." I said. I handed 
it to her, and she stood up, unsteadily. So unsteadily in 
fact, that she fell against me. 

Taken by surprise, I caught her around the waist, as the 
full globes pressed into my chest. I could smell the slight 
hint of perfume in her golden blonde hair. Was she even 
awake? Had she passed out, or what? She was just holding 
the night shirt down by her side, leaning her nearly bare 
body against me. I thought about what Timmy Jones had said 
again, and felt a little tremble in the pit my stomach. 
The last thing I wanted right now was to get a stiffy with 
my own mom in my arms, but damned if it didn't begin to 
happen. So, I eased her back so she could sit on the bed. 
As she did, her legs parted slightly, and I noticed that I 
had a clear shot of her with just the thin band of fabric 
from her thong in the way. That was all it took. I was rock 
hard, and feeling really weird about it. 

She tried to lift the shirt up over her head, but in doing 
so, she fell back heavily across the bed, her feet dangling 
off the edge. "Davey," she murmured, "Are you still here? 
I seem to need some help here." 

"Yes, mom, I am," I replied. "let me help you get that 
shirt on. I think you might have had too much wine. Do 
you feel all right?" I asked. 

"Mmmm... wine..." she mumbled, "and yes... I file feen." 
The slurring of her words, and the way she mixed them up 
caused her to giggle, and the movement caused her breasts 
to wobble slightly, which aroused me even more. What was 
I going to do about this? I just couldn't believe that my 
own mother was turning me on! It seemed for a second that 
she was even flirting, what with the way she looked at me.

"Mom, I know you've had too much wine, and so I am going to 
just go on to bed myself. Good night." As I turned to walk 
out of the room, it hit me. I had an unbelievable chance 
here. I couldn't get the thought of Timmy's comment out of 
my head, and having seen pretty much all there was to see 
of my mom, I realized how right he was. She was hot. 
The hottest woman I had ever seen. And she was practically 
naked on a bed, right in front of me! 

It was at that moment that my teenage hormones kicked in. 
I might have a chance to... 

To do what? 

Maybe cop a feel of a real breast on a real woman? I had no 
idea what to do, but a cough from mom broke my reverie, and 
as I turned back around, I decided that I was going to go 
as far as I could, to where ever I could, before she stopped 
me. "On second thought, Lieutenant Jackson told me not to 
leave you alone, and so I think I am going to spend the night 
in here with you, to be sure you're okay. Is that all right 
with you? I asked, hesitantly.

"Oh baby, you certainly can stay in here with me tonight, 
I really don't want to be alone. Having my big strong boy in 
here with me will be a comfort." she said. And then she 
smiled. Not mom's usual smile, but that of a woman who was 
really looking at someone else. I wondered who she was seeing.

"Here goes," I thought, and then stopped short. My pajamas 
were in my room down the hall. Now, I felt trapped. I had 
just said that I wasn't going to leave mom alone, and now 
I was thinking about going out to get my pajamas? I couldn't 
believe the thoughts racing around inside my skull! Given 
what vague thoughts had already run through my mind about 
what I might be able to get away with, why was I now being 
suddenly so modest? So, I stopped, turned around, and 
unzipped my jeans. I kicked off my tennis shoes, and began 
to slide the denim down my legs, when mom drew in a deep 
breath. She had seen the bulge in my underwear, and realized 
that I wasn't a "little" boy anymore. I think the idea of 
the taboo sort of excited her, because she never took her 
eyes off me as I began to undress. I pulled my shirt off 
over my head, and slowly walked over to the bed. "As long 
as you're not going to wear that t-shirt, I'm not going 
to wear one either!" I said, almost defiantly. If she was 
going to stop me, now was her chance. She said nothing.

Still somewhat dumbfounded, I pulled the covers back on the 
other side of the bed, and lay down. Mom was still lying 
crosswise, but it was a king, and there was plenty of space. 
She tried to sit up, but couldn't quite make it, so she 
rolled over on her stomach, which, by the way, gave me a 
good look at the full, round, curves of her bottom. A bottom 
mostly exposed in a filmy white thong. I realized I could 
see at least 90% of her butt! And what a fantastic one it was!

She slid herself up until her head was on the pillow, and 
her feet were finally aimed the right way, and she was lying 
next to me. Well, sort of. There was about two feet of space 
between us, and I could hear her breathing. I rolled over 
on my side, to look at her, and saw that she had her head 
turned towards me. Neither she nor I had the slightest idea
what to say, but it was at that moment that we apparently 
had the same thought. We were all we had now. I was the man 
of the house, and this is now my house as well as yours. At 
that point, we leaned into each other, and gently kissed. 

I simply could not believe what was happening, and I'm 
sure that mom couldn't either, but we held our gentle 
kiss for what seemed to be a very long time. She reached 
up, and brushed the hair out of my eyes, as she had done 
when I was a little kid, and said, "Davey, I don't know 
how we're going to get through this, but as long as we do 
it together, we will get through it."

"Mom," I started, but she interrupted me.

"No, David." she said, placing a finger over my lips, 
"in here, in this room, I am not 'mom.' This is now your 
house as much as it is mine, as much as it was your dad's. 
He's gone now, and it's yours. Along with everything in it. 
In here, I am Carol. Not 'mom' but Carol. Do you understand 
what I am telling you?" 

My heart leapt into my throat, and I understood exactly what
she meant. She used my full given name. Not my nickname. She
called me 'David'. The only other times she had ever called
me 'David' had been when I'd been in trouble. For some reason,
I didn't think that I was in any trouble just then. 

The raging erection I had at that moment, positively throbbed 
with the thought. She was giving herself to me, here, right 
here in this bed. Or at least she was telling me that she 
would let me go as far as I wanted, which was the same thing 
in my hormone-engorged brain.

This was so far outside of my concept of what could have 
happened, that I had no idea what to even think about it. 
In fact, I had no idea what could have happened anyway. I'd 
seen the occasional porn video on the computer, and looked 
at a few websites, but I had absolutely no clue how to go 
about getting to that point. And apparently, mom could 
sense my hesitation and uncertainty. She reached down, 
took my hand, and brought it up to her lips, gently kissing 
my fingertips. She murmured slightly, slurred still by the 
wine, and I couldn't catch what she said, so I asked. 
"Mom, um, I mean, Carol, what did you say?"

"I said that I am going to have to teach you what you 
needed to know, for you to take your rightful place here." 
she replied. "Are you willing to do this? We can stop, and 
nothing more will ever be said about it after tonight, but 
you're old enough to understand, that once we go forward 
from here, there is no turning back. We can never talk about 
this outside this room, not to anyone. Do you understand me?" 

"Yes, I do understand you. And yes, I am perfectly willing 
to live with those rules. What do I do?" I asked, slightly 
afraid now. Not afraid because I knew this was wrong on 
so many levels, but because I didn't want to let my mom down. 

"First, we start by doing this," she said, as she removed 
the filmy white thong she was wearing. She reached over, 
and slowly drew my underwear down, and in a moment, we were 
pressed against each other, face to face, with nothing between 
us. I could feel the heat of her skin against mine, as my 
throbbing hardness pressed into the soft skin of her belly. 
Again, she turned her face up to kiss me, but this kiss was 
different, her tongue gently parted my lips, and I felt a 
slight suction from her mouth, as it pressed against mine. 
Not knowing what to do, I began to gently explore her mouth 
with my tongue, emulating her actions. 

"Mmmmmm..." she moaned. I felt her warm hand against my 
back, sliding down to cup my buttocks, as she drew me tighter 
to her. I mirrored her motions, and felt my hand sliding 
across the smooth skin of her round, full bottom, my fingers 
splayed across the crease between her cheeks. She wiggled in 
a little closer, and moved her hand around slowly, to my 
front, where her fingers closed around my hardness. Her 
touch was electric, and I drew in a sharp breath of air 
as my body stiffened. 

"Did I hurt you?" she asked. 

"No," I stammered, "I just wasn't expecting that." 

"You're going to have to roll over a little. Lie on your back." 
She said. As I complied, She raised up over me, and began to 
kiss my chest, slowly moving down, until her face was directly 
over my swollen manhood. She looked up at me, her blonde hair 
framing her face, and said, "I'm not going to ask if you've 
ever had this done before, but I hope that I please you." The 
soft light from the bedside table made her look like a golden 
angel hovering over me, her delicious breasts gently brushing 
my thighs. She lowered her lips to my firmness, and gently 
swirled her tongue around the tip. I shuddered, and she took 
me into the warm, wet recesses of her mouth. I could feel the 
heat of her throat as she slowly took the entire length of me 
into her mouth. I could not believe this. I'd never imagined 
anything like this, and I began to relax, hoping that it was 
not just some weird dream. 

Her lips repeatedly slid wetly up and down the length of me, 
and I felt myself getting harder, if such a thing were 
possible, until she abruptly stopped, and lifted up to look
at me. "David," she said, "Did you like that?" 

"Yes, m- uh, Carol. I never dreamed anything could feel 
so good." 

"Well," she replied, "just wait. There's much more to 
learn." At that point, she lifted herself up, somewhat 
unsteadily, still apparently affected by the wine, and 
straddled my thighs. Her hand was wrapped gently around 
my hardness, and she inched herself upwards, until her warm, 
wet opening was directly over me. I looked down, and saw 
that she was as hairless as me, and thought, "Damn, how 
cool that she shaves!" as the tip found the hot, slick 
opening. She was as ready as I was. As she began to settle 
herself over me, I slid in deeper and deeper, until her 
smooth pubic area was in full contact with mine. For just 
a moment, I hoped I was big enough for her, until I 
realized just how tight she was. 

"Um, Carol," I began, "am I big enough for you? I mean, I 
can feel how your, uh, you are so tight around me." She 
pressed her finger over my lips, and nodded. 

"You're more than enough, my man. Don't worry." She began 
a gentle rocking motion, slightly lifting up and lowering 
back down, and I began to realize just how pleasurable 
this could be. As silly as it sounded, even to me, all I 
could think was, "this is way more cool than any damn 
Playstation!" 

She continued this motion for what seemed like an eternity, 
and suddenly I felt a tickle deep in my belly. I knew what 
this meant! I was going to come! Suddenly, a panic enveloped 
me. What was I going to do? I couldn't come here, this way, 
inside my mom, could I?

"Carol, stop, I'm going to, um, I mean, I feel..." once again, 
she pressed her finger to my lips to silence me.

"David, shhhhh. It's okay. You're right where I want you, and 
I want to feel you inside me. Relax, and just let it happen." 
she said. Her motions picked up a little speed, as if she were 
trying to make it happen faster. The feeling kept building, 
and suddenly I couldn't contain it any longer. I exploded 
inside her, and she fell heavily onto me, forcing me in as 
deeply as I could go, as the waves of orgasm cause me to 
spurt again and again. I could feel the heat of her womanhood 
surrounding me, and the slick feel of my own fluids mingling 
with hers, as she began to moan and moved her hips, grinding
into me rhythmically, coming to her peak at the same time 
as I did. 

I had just made love with my MOM! Oh my GOD! I was somewhat 
overcome with disbelief, as she settled herself against me, 
pressing her full bosom against my bare chest, with me still 
inside her. I could hear her deep sigh in my ear, and I felt 
her smile. 

"I don't feel so alone anymore, David," she said. "I know now 
that everything's going to be all right."

"Mom, uh, I mean, um, Carol," I stammered, "Did you mean to 
do this, or is this a dream, or what?" I demanded. 

"I knew that I would totally fall apart," she began, "if I 
didn't share some real connection with someone, and soon. 
You were here, you were trying so hard to be grown up for 
me, and it seemed like the right thing to do. And it was the 
right thing to do. And it will be the right thing to do, 
as long as we both want to keep doing it. Do you want to 
keep doing it?" she asked.

"I will do whatever I have to do to keep you happy. That's 
my job now," I said.

"Then do you feel like you can do it again?" she asked, 
with a sly grin.

"I think I can," I said, "what should I do?"

"Well, let's rest a moment, and just hold each other," she 
said.

"Okay, that sounds good." I said. We were soon lying spoon 
fashion, my stomach pressed against her back, and I felt 
her soft breathing. I had one hand on her soft, smooth 
belly, and the other cupped around one of her breasts. 

"David," she said, "we need to talk about this a little, 
if it's okay with you."

"What do we need to talk about?" I asked. 

"Well, you know, and I know, that what we've just done here 
was the best thing we could do for each other at this 
moment, because of all that happened today. You do know 
that, don't you?" she asked.

"Yes, I know." I said.

"No one else will understand what we've done, and what we 
are going to do," she said. "What we've done is against 
the law everywhere, and is considered immoral and wrong. 
It's called 'incest' and is a very big taboo in most 
cultures," she explained.

"I know that," I said, remembering my social studies class, 
where they talked about those primitive cultures in the 
Amazon basin in South America, "but no one else will ever 
know if neither of us ever says anything about it." I was 
sure that there was not one single person I knew that I 
would ever tell about this night. Especially that asshole 
Timmy Jones!

"That's right. We must never speak of this to anyone, 
ever," she said, "I said it before, what happens in this 
room, stays in this room. In here, I am not mom. 
Everywhere else in the world, I am, but no one ever 
need know what goes on in here, except you and I." She 
paused, and she took my hand from her breast, and kissed it.
"There is something else I have to talk about, and it is 
serious. There are many people in the world who would say 
that what we have done can be damaging to young people, 
that it can scar them mentally for life, and that it is 
abusive. Do you feel like that is true, now that we've 
done it?" she asked. 

I thought about it for a moment. "No, I don't. I know 
that what happened here is special, and that it is, and 
will stay our secret. I don't think it's going to mess 
up my mind or anything, and I don't really feel weird 
about it. It will take a while before I can fully figure 
all this out, but I love you, and I know you love me, 
and we are all we have now, so we will keep this to 
ourselves, and work it out."

"You are so mature, and so grown up," she told me. "In 
this moment, I am so proud of you."

Well, in that moment, let me tell you, I was feeling the 
warmth of female skin pressed against me, and I could 
feel the curve of her bottom pressing against me down 
there. As I began to think about it, I could feel a 
stirring between my legs, and the beginning fullness 
of another hardening. She could feel it too, and she 
wiggled against me, as if to encourage it. 

"You're becoming ready again, aren't you?" she asked.

"Yes, I am... Carol..." I said, with an inward smile. 
"Can we do it again?"

"Oh yes," she said, as she turned over to face me. I 
felt her lips gently brush mine, and then she leaned 
slightly away, to roll onto her back. "I want you to 
look me in the eyes and kiss me while we do it this time," 
she whispered.

I could feel her hand close around me, with a gentle 
squeeze and a slow slide up and down my length, and I 
started to roll onto her. Her legs parted, and my hips 
settled in between hers. I lowered my head and traced the 
tip of my tongue across her hardened nipples, which brought 
a gasp and moan from her. She lifted my head, and kissed me 
wantonly, aggressively, holding my face between both of 
her hands. "This time, I want you to give it all you have. 
Don't be gentle, give it to me hard and fast, and strong, 
my lover." 

I reached down and guided the tip of my hardness to her warm, 
moist opening, and as I started to slide forward, she grabbed 
my butt and pulled me all the way into her. "Give it to me, 
David, give it to me hard!" she cried.

I began a fast, strong, and deep movement, sliding almost all 
the way out, before slamming my length all the way into her. 
I could hear her little mewling cries start to grow louder, 
developing into deep moaning whimpers as I plowed away. I began 
to kiss her, gently at first, only with my lips, and then harder, 
running my tongue into her mouth, as we moved together. And wow,
was she ever kissing me back!

I don't know how long we went, but I could feel her begin to 
shudder beneath me, the firm muscular depths of her inner flesh 
pulsating, grasping, squeezing, over and over. She convulsed 
with pleasure under me, and as I began to feel that tell tale 
tickle starting in my gut, she ran her hand across my back and 
down again to my buttocks, pulling me forcefully into her 
repeatedly... I began to erupt once more, deep inside her, and 
she screamed out her agonizing pleasure. I slowed my movements, 
instinctively grinding my pelvis against hers, her body shuddering 
each time. Her legs were wrapped around me, her face was contorted 
in the most beautiful way I had ever seen, as I realized I had 
given her not one, but several orgasms. Wow, me! I did this! 

"Baby, that was so good," she murmured in my ear. "I can't believe 
how good a lover you are. And with more practice, we will both get 
better and better together. There is so much more that we can 
share with each other, and I intend to share all of it with you. 
We will do everything you ever imagined, and some things you haven't 
ever even dreamed of." 

As we drifted off to sleep, the last thought that went through 
my mind was that I knew that I was going to spend a lot less time
at the Rec Center this summer... 

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Comments Welcomed, Critiques Requested, Flames Ignored.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author does 
not condone  or recommend the behavior described in this 
story to be considered in real life in any way, shape, or form. 
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

<1st attachment end>


----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------
Notice: This post has been modified from its original
format.  The post was sent as an email attachment and
has been converted by ASSTR ASSM moderation software.
----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>|
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org>   Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> |
|Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}|
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+


  index