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Date with Mom (MF, inc)
by Eros

*

My friend Tamara had told me that the only people who took out 
personal ads in our local weekly were "horny yuppies with more 
money than brains."

However, I had recently finalized my divorce after twenty-seven 
years of marriage, and I simply didn't know how to play the modern 
dating game. Besides, I could think of a lot worse things than a 
man with a fat wallet, a lonely cock, and an empty head.

One advertisement called to me again and again: "Good-looking 
professional, 26, who enjoys romantic encounters in dark theaters 
with mature women who remember the days of candlelight and roses. 
Let's share a bottle of fine, properly aged wine together and 
discuss our interests."

Tamara groaned when I pointed it out to her. "Kim, you're old 
enough to be that man's mother," she said as she jabbed her scarlet 
fingernail at the number 26. It was true, alas. I didn't like to 
remember it, but my own son was exactly that age.

"Well, he does say he likes mature women," I said.

"Kim, to a boy of 26, 47 isn't mature, it's ancient! Either that, 
or he's looking for a sugar mama. Why don't you let me set you up 
with my cousin Brian!"

Cousin Brian, I remembered, had hunched shoulders and looked a 
decade older than his fifty years.

"No, thanks. Tamara. I think I'm going to check this one out."

I sent him a cautious note, along with a photograph that showed my 
body from the neck down. Maybe I was being TOO cautious, but I 
wasn't ready to have naked photos of myself circulating around town 
with my real face or name attached! I reasoned that a good, long 
look at my lean, well-maintained figure would he enough to tell the 
man what he needed to know.

A couple of weeks passed, and then I found a note in my mailbox 
telling me to drop by a certain club any Tuesday for the next 
month. "I'll be the one with the silver wine bucket," he promised.

"Don't go." Tamara said. "You haven't even talked to him on the 
phone.
Are you crazy!"

"Look," I said. "We're meeting in a public place. I'll just steal a 
look at him and if I don't like what I see, I'll leave. No worries, 
right!?"

Tamara just shook her head as I shimmied into a tight white skirt 
that she couldn't have worn since the summer of '67. It wasn't fair 
that I had such a firm, small belly since I'd had a kid and Tamara 
hadn't, but hey. That's the breaks. Anyway, I didn't need to fuss 
much with my appearance. I slicked on some coral lipstick and 
stepped into a pair of white, high-heeled sandals and I was ready 
to go.

The club was moderately crowded. I scanned several busy tables for 
a minute before I saw the one in the corner where a man sat alone 
with a silver bucket and a bottle of wine. Although I was looking 
at him from behind, where I could see nothing but the blonde curl 
that hung down like an inverted question mark from the back of his 
short, thick hair. I knew it was Matthew. My own son!

Just then he turned and saw me. Our eyes met across the crowded 
barroom floor. I remembered the sexy fantasies I'd had while 
slithering into my tight skirt, and I wasn't willing to give up the 
dream. I felt a sudden moistness in my panties as I realized how 
handsome my son really was.

"Mom!" he said, getting up and coming across the floor. "What are 
you doing here!"

I laughed. "Well, Matt, I guess you invited me!"

He flushed and then laughed as I explained. Somehow we wound up 
tucked in the corner table, where a waiter materialized to pour the 
wine. I could tell from his manner that he assumed that my son was 
actually my lover, and the way I giggled when I tasted the 
expensive libation did nothing to contradict that assumption.

"I didn't know you liked 'mature' women," I said to Matt after the 
waiter finally left.

"I suppose I have you to thank for that." He clicked his glass to 
mine. "You're a beautiful woman, Mom. Beautiful, intelligent, and 
sexy. I've often wondered where I would meet a woman as fine as 
you."

I felt flustered. We aren't a family that's much on compliments. 
Besides, Matt had suddenly slipped his hand into mine, squeezing 
it. I wasn't really surprised when he then took my hand and placed 
it gently in his lap so that I could feel his crotch. "Just looking 
at you in that skirt has me so hard, Mom," he whispered. "I need to 
fuck so bad."

"So do I," I confessed. before I could stop myself. The feel of 
Matt's hard cock was like a drug on me. My pussy was moistening 
rapidly. I couldn't help myself. I wanted to fuck my own son!

"I know it's wrong, Mom," me whispered. "But I want you so badly! 
Maybe I always have."

He wrapped my fingers about the bulge in his pants and 
instinctively I squeezed his erection. I was shocked at the size 
and stiffness of his prick. I couldn't remember when I had felt a 
cock of such prodigious proportions. My pussy was itching with a 
need to feel it between my legs.

"Come home with me, Mom." he whispered.

My brain told me that it was wrong, but my body wasn't listening 
anymore.
All I wanted right then was my son's long hard cock fucking my 
neglected pussy.

I didn't remember much about the ride from the club to Matt's 
apartment except the speed at which the streetlights flashed past. 
I had both hands inside his pants stroking his hard, throbbing cock 
while he was driving, and I'm afraid that they may have provided 
something of a distraction.

When we reached his apartment, soft music came on. He'd wired the 
place somehow so that it did that automatically. I was surprised at 
the subtle eroticism of the recording he'd chosen. I suppose I'd 
expected something crude and vulgar from a younger lover, even if 
he was my own son. I should have known by now that Matt was a man 
of exquisite good taste. He took me in his arms and danced with me, 
waltzing me around his hardwood floor. I kept hunching my hips 
forward, eager to feel the hard lump in his trousers rub 
deliciously against my burning pussy.

Despite his obvious desire for sex. Matt didn't rush a thing. He 
was clearly the master of the show. When the song ended, he kissed 
me. Not the usual mother/son peck on the lips, a long, lingering 
passionate kiss that had my pussy bubbling with lust for him. He 
slithered his tongue into my mouth. I sucked it gently and then a 
little harder as I felt his hands drift down to unzip the back of 
my tight skirt.

I tried to remember to pull off one or another of his articles of 
clothing from time to time, but I was mostly letting him undress 
me. I was highly aroused, burning from the thrill of surrendering 
my body to the touch of my very own son.

When we were naked, I made him step back so that I could look at 
his body... just look at it. He was so beautiful! His shoulders 
were broad, his chest rippled with muscles, his belly flat, his 
hips tapered. His cock was long and thick. I was secretly afraid 
that I wouldn't be able to get all of it inside of me, but I sure 
as hell was going to have a lot of fun trying.

"It's been a long time since I've had sex," I told him. "I feel 
like a virgin with my own son."

Matt laughed.

"Come here, Mom!"

He took me into his arms and kissed me everywhere. The track of his 
wet tongue created a sensuous crisscross pattern as it traversed 
the sensitive flesh of my too-long-neglected body. I quivered, 
painfully close to orgasm and yet so terribly afraid that I 
couldn't take the blast of long-denied feeling, when he sealed his 
young lips about the small bud of my clitoris.

"It's all right, Mom," he whispered, his warm breath tickling my 
pussy hair. "It's all right. Let go and enjoy. I'm going to make 
you feel so good."

He opened his mouth wider, so that he could simultaneously move his 
tongue down to my cuntslit while he continued to suck gently on my 
clitty button. I bucked my hips up in total abandon. Having my 
handsome young son eating my cunt like this was so deliciously 
dirty I knew I wouldn't last long before I came all over his 
tongue. My knees wobbled. I wasn't going to be able to remain 
standing if he insisted on giving me much intense pleasure.

But Matt was way ahead of me. Standing up, he took me by the hand 
and led me back to his bedroom. I'd never been there before, never 
stolen a glimpse at the masculine darkness of his heavy antique 
four-poster and black satin sheets. I felt as if I were going to 
bed with a stranger as my son tenderly lay me down and spread my 
thighs, eyeing of my juicy-wet cuntslit like a starving man.

"I want to suck you too, baby," I finally said, remembering the 
incredible hardness of that wonderfully large cock of his. I was 
still afraid that I couldn't handle all of it, but I desperately 
wanted to try.

Matt turned around on top of me and planted his knees on either 
side of my face before returning his lips to my pussy. It was the 
classic sixty-nine position, something his father hadn't much cared 
for. My son's lingual enthusiasm was infinitely better than my 
husband's dutiful slurps.

God, it was so intoxicating to be sucking on a prick that belonged 
to a man who was simultaneously licking out my pussy! That combined 
with the fact that the tongue in my cunt belonged to my own son, to 
me, was the ultimate turn on. I'd never been so aroused in my life!

As I sucked his long, hard cock deep into my mouth, I felt the deep 
stirrings of a long-delayed orgasm. I was so afraid that I was 
going to explode right into my son's face. But how could I hold 
back when he slipped his tongue that extra inch inside of me and 
pressed hard on some secret erogenous zone I had no idea I even 
possessed! I'd meant to show a fraction more control, but it was 
hopeless. I erupted in my first tongue-generated climax in a 
decade.

When he realized that I was cumming, Matt actually grew more 
excited. I suppose he could have forced himself to re-double the 
speed of his cartwheeling tongue, but he couldn't have faked the 
sudden extra dose of steel-hard stiffness in the prick he was 
hunching into my mouth.

My son was honestly aroused by the sweet, sticky taste of his own 
mother's cum. My own tongue had gotten a little clumsy because I 
had to keep gasping for breath around the thick plug of Matt's 
overstuffed cock. Suddenly, he went rigid above me. I recognized 
the signs instantly and reached up to grab his cute butt, pulling 
him down so that he could shoot all that lovely hot sperm deep into 
my throat.

We rested quietly for s few minutes in that position, my son's 
half-hard cock still between my lips. I savored one of my favorite 
sexual treats, a treat I'd almost forgotten over the years.... the 
feeling of a man's prick getting hard again. It would probably be 
difficult for anyone except another woman to understand how 
powerfully excited it made me feel to know that I had my own son's 
cock swelling in my mouth at the simple touch of my tongue.

"I want to fuck you, Mom," Matt whispered.

I hated to let his cock slip from my mouth for even so much as a 
fraction of a second, but I knew that he wanted to hear me say it.

"I want it too, son," I told him. "Please, Matt. Fuck your mother's 
hot pussy! Fuck me good!"

He raised his big, masculine body from mine long enough to turn 
himself around into the proper position between my open thighs. I 
lifted my legs up and wide as I took him in the classic missionary 
position. The hairy, swollen lips of my pussy trembled as I felt 
the head of his massive cockhead start to spread them open. Was I 
woman enough to take a man like this! My own son was hung like a 
stud horse and I was to be his filly. Would my poor, neglected cunt 
stretch as much as it needed to! Or would Matt split me in two with 
his incredibly thick weapon.

"It's alright, Mom," Matt whispered, sensing my fear. "I know that 
I'm larger than average, and definitely much bigger than Dad, so 
let's just take it slow and easy."

His voice was a soothing singsong that relaxed me like he was 
hypnotizing me. My pussy stretched a little more and Matt slipped 
another inch inside of me. He never hurried. No matter how 
desperate I grew, no matter how wildly I rubbed my heels against 
his broad back, no matter how madly I whimpered into his ears, he 
took me a tantalizing inch at a time. It was the technique that 
another man might have used to fuck a woman's asshole, entering me 
so slowly that I couldn't help but open wide as my muscles ached to 
pull him in more.

"Fuck me, Son! Fuck me, Matt! Don't hold back. Give me the whole 
thing!"

And then he'd done it. I felt the head of his massive cock rubbing 
sensuously at the back wall of my swamp-wet pussy while my 
trembling pelvis squirmed against the flat muscle of his hard 
belly. The entire length of my son's incredible prick was buried 
inside of me!

My cunt was full, fuller than it had ever been before and it felt 
wonderful. I moved with him as Matt began to fuck me with a slow, 
steady rhythm. My own son was fucking me! My own son's cock was 
pumping in and out of my cunt, my little boy's prick was stretching 
me, filling me, making my clit tingle and throb with the promise of 
orgasms like I'd never experienced before.

Matt had the consummate control that I would expect, and yet had 
never received from a much older man. I quickly discovered that I 
could buck and jerk my hips beneath him as violently as I wished, 
letting myself surrender to orgasm after orgasm without restraint.

My son just kept pumping away, and there was never a moment when I 
had to be afraid that he'd come too soon. The satin sheets were a 
soaking wet swamp that smelled strongly of jism and cunt-juice when 
we finally collapsed, my son's happy prick still inside of me.

"Jesus, baby! Who taught you how to fuck like that!" I asked. 
sighing deeply.

"I guess you did, Mom, since I've never fucked like that before."

His tongue stroked the curve of my ear, and I felt my belly quiver. 
I wanted him again! I wanted my son to fuck me till I dropped! 
Soon, soon, we would be entwined in yet another deliciously 
incestuous fuck. I reached for his cock and looked up into his 
eyes.

"How long can you keep this thing hard, darling", I husked, "Mommy 
wants to fuck you all night long."

Matt slipped two fingers into my juicy, wet slit and rubbed my 
clit, a devilish grin on his handsome young features. His cock was 
growing in my hand.

"Why don't we find out," he smiled, finger-fucking my hot hole. "I 
don't think you'll be disappointed, Mom."

When I slipped away from his bed at dawn, I felt a pleasant ache 
deep in my pussy, but I was totally satisfied. He HAD fucked me all 
night, in every possible position, and in every possible orifice. 
Some I'd secretly longed to try, like getting a cock up my ass for 
the first time, and some I'd never even heard of, although Matt had 
obviously perfected them on some lucky young girl.

My son was a wonderful lover, undoubtedly the most talented I'd 
ever had, and I knew that despite the fact that he was my own son, 
I simply had to continue the relationship we'd started. After 
sampling my son's talented young prick I was certain that I 
wouldn't be able to do without it for a single night.

At work, Tamara smirked when she asked me how my date had gone.

"Oh, you wouldn't believe it," I said. "The guy turned out to be my 
own son!"

She laughed. "Can I say 'I told you so!'"

"Go ahead! Say it." I said putting on a sad face.

But I was smiling a secret smile. Tamara never suspected for a 
second that I spent a night of unbridled fucking and sucking with 
my own son!

I wonder if I should tell her?

THE END

