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 stories 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 old gal even though I was still a bit pissed at how 
she had treated my father 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 red 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 old 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 cunt 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 cunt 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 old 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 cunt 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 cunt you've just cum 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 tits 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 spunk 
beginning to dribble from her cunt 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.
