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Mornings are when it happened. I would wake up early, often before the alarm went off, and find my legs wrapped around a pillow. It’s one particular pillow, the one that I didn’t lay my head on. It’s firmer than I like for sleeping on but it’s just right for what I used it as. Rolling over I would get it situated just so, as a lump underneath me in just the right place. It took a little wiggling, but that’s a good thing. I wrapped my arms around the other pillows and hugged them tightly, holding my face down against them.
I started to move.
At first it’s gentle, a rocking motion over that firm lump. If I concentrate I can feel the lips of my pussy drag back and forth across that pillow, each tiny motion making the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Those motions, those touches, those intense little vibrations became a ringing in my tummy and a tingle in my soul. I can still feel it creep all up and down my body, igniting every nerve.
The small motions became big ones, pressing harder down on the pillows and beginning a longer, rougher motion. I stroked myself up and down, and those motions were pulling my pussy lips around, parting them and rubbing them back together. I could feel the layer of the pillow case through the layer of my pajamas, and the sliding of the various material gave complexity to my motion. Usually I didn’t wear panties to bed so the friction of material on material would transmit directly to my skin. I started circular motions with my hips.
Those circular motions caused my pussy lips to brush my thigh, to rub the pillow, to brush my other thigh, and even to open slightly and surround the edge of the pillow. There began to be a slight wet feeling and each motion was drawing more of that wetness out of the inner folds between my legs.
It had begun, like a ramp I’m walking up. I kept rubbing my crotch against the pillow, harder each minute, until the bed began to gently squeak. I knew that sound, and I knew what it meant. It’s a message to my brain to roll over. It’s a welcome message, and I always followed it’s advice. Though it’s almost painful to stop, I had to leave the comfort of the pillow and lay on my back. I threw the covers off and faced the ceiling in the cool of the morning air.
It’s agony to move slow but I put my hands on my belly, feeling the smooth skin and the tiny dimple of my navel. I was proud of it, because it’s pretty in it’s own way. But I didn’t linger there. With one hand I raised the elastic of my pajamas and slipped the other down over the silky roughness of my pussy hair. It’s short, and soft like corn silk. I ran my fingers through it like a comb, parting it off to the sides and exposing my pussy to my own touch for the first time.
It’s so soft under my touch. I’d have liked to just touch it and feel it’s velvety smoothness with it’s slight wet sheen. Instead I ran the pad of my finger slowly down the crack as I felt the wetness build and cover the end of my finger. The sensation of heavenly touch awakened me fully to the feelings between my thighs. I had to keep touching. Drawing the finger back upwards I frosted the firm bit of flesh that is my clit with the liquid heaven that I pulled up from my pussy.
Now I began to rub.
There’s no stopping now as an ocean of tingling waves moved up and down my body. That body was used to those waves and enfolded them, accepting them with passion. They rolled up and down from my scalp to my toes, each wave reinforcing the others and making the whole ocean of sex blot out everything else in the universe. Now I started shivering and clenching my toes hard as the first tremors awakened down deep inside me.
It’s time, and with my other hand I reached down and slowly begin a shallow finger fuck of my aching pussy. I longed for more, but there’s a barrier that I’m not ready to breach. It didn’t matter. Almost at the instant I pushed my finger into myself a wrenching surge of life spilled out from my pussy to engulf my whole body. Every muscle in my body contracted in powerful waves, and each released into that wonderful lethargy of post-orgasm relaxation.
I really like masturbating.
I’d been doing it for years, and I knew all the tricks. All the little things to do that make my body respond. I ‘m proud of my body, and I try to treat it right. When I pet it nicely it wiggles it’s pleasure, but if I don’t use just the right spin it’s sullen and sulks. I know how to treat it right. It’s one thing I’m really good at.
Oddly enough, back when I finally got myself a boyfriend this complicated matters. I was fairly adept at making myself feel good, but I knew that bringing the fireworks of an orgasm required a special touch. A touch that I had spent years perfecting, with constant practice and dedication. To say that I was apprehensive about having sex with Tom is an understatement.
It wasn’t just fear that he wouldn’t be able to please me, although that was certainly part of the equation. A big part of it was casino siteleri that I assumed he had learned to get himself off, and that I would be clumsy and embarrassedly inexperienced.
My mother had given me a little practical advice about it, and in our house there were a number of (what I later learned were) very good books on sex and volumes of titillating erotica. In all actuality I knew more, and more correct, information on the art of pleasing a man than most of my girlfriends. I just didn’t have the actual experience, as some of them did.
As our senior year progressed I could feel matters coming to a head. He kept at me with various arguments, and to tell the truth I was wanting the same thing. However, somewhere down in my gut was this little ball of fear the made me keep him at arms length where sex was concerned. I was pretty sure it was going to happen, but I was also sure that it had to be just right or I would regret it.
So I just went home after each date and played with myself until I came. Sometimes over and over again, thinking of him and his broad shoulders and his sweet kisses. We necked a lot, because that’s something I would let him do. And I liked it too, but he’d get really hot for me and try for more. Then I’d push him away, and end up at home with my busy fingers wet and tired.
One day late in the spring I headed over to his house. We had that nice kind of relationship where we both often just dropped in to do this and that. Play video games, watch TV, or whatever. That day I think I was just in the mood for some gossip and some hang time. I knew his mother was home and that therefore the issue of sex would be back-burner. A big plus was that Jean, his mother, was a wonderful cook and I would probably be invited to stay for dinner.
As I walked up the sidewalk I noticed that not only was Tom’s car there, but Jean’s car as well. Her husband was away for the weekend, as I already knew, and his sister was away at Western State. Seeing that the two cars that should be there were there, I was surprised when nobody answered my knock.
It was warm, so I figured that it was likely they were sitting in the back yard enjoying the shade. I went around the end of the house to the gate and started to open it. I was right, and I heard voices- but I also heard my name so I stopped and listened.
“…with Shelby?” Jean was saying.
“Oh, things are okay I guess,” answered Tom. I put my eye up to a crack in the cedar fence boards and could see them half a yard away. Tom was sitting in a semi-reclined lounge chair, and Jean was occupying a triple wide lawn swing with a shade cover over the top. There were a couple cold drinks on a little table between them. It looked like lemonade.
Jean smiled a little ruefully. “So you haven’t had sex yet, have you?”
“Naw. She’s still holding out. She won’t even let me feel her up.” I would have been astonished by this conversation, had I not had similar conversations with my parents. As it was I was merely surprised. I had never thought that Tom would discuss our sex life with his mother.
As it was, he was right about me not letting him feel me up. I was afraid if he got that close we would just go ahead and do it. I really wanted my first time to feel good, so I didn’t even let him do that. I regretted that a lot, too.
“Well, I wouldn’t worry about it, Tom,” Jean continued. “She’s a smart girl, and I’m sure she just wants to be ready.” She swung back and forth in the shade and took a sip of her drink. “She’s such a pretty little thing too. I’m sure she’s worth waiting for.”
“I know she’s something special. If not I don’t think I would have let it go on like this.” Well, I didn’t like the sound of that! It was almost as if he were talking about dumping me because we weren’t having sex.
“I know she’s special,” Jean said. “Just give her time, and she’ll come around.”
“You know I told her I’d always wear a condom, and I even offered to help pay for her birth control. She still just keeps saying ‘No’.” I could only see Tom at an oblique angle from behind, but it seemed as if he had his hand in his lap doing something.
Then Jean said something I never dreamed I’d hear her say to him. “I’m sorry, Tom. Do you need to get off?”
My mouth dropped open, and I almost fell over. It shocked me so much that I nearly missed the next part of the conversation, which was even more startling.
“Yeah Mom.” Tom replied, and I realized he was gently stroking himself right in front of her.
“Okay, dear,” Jean said and started unbuttoning her blouse. “Come over here and feel me up. I’ll help.”
I couldn’t believe my eyes as he got up and moved over next to her on the swing. At once it was startling to know I was about to see an incestuous encounter between my boyfriend and his mother, and at the same time it made me so horny I almost couldn’t stand it. My pussy started to ache and I wanted to rub it. Squeezing my legs together and moving my thighs across slot oyna themselves was a poor substitute for the touch and tingle I really wanted.
Looking around I saw the I was effectively screened by a row of bushes. Shyly and with a terrible feeling I would be caught I slipped my hand down under the elastic of my panties. Unsurprisingly I found my clit to be stiff and moist. Rubbing it gently, I put my eye back to the crack in the fence.
Jean had finished removing her blouse and sat dressed only in a pair of jeans and a fairly sexy bra. She had also unbuttoned her jeans so that I could just make out a pair of pinkish panties. Tom sat down next to her and kissed her with remarkable passion. “Thanks, Mom,” he said as they broke apart and he gently stroked her bra concealed breast. Jean’s mouth was glistening and her eyes were sparkling. That had been no mother/son peck on the cheek kiss.
I had never noticed Jean as a beautiful woman before. Oh, I knew in the back of my mind that she was attractive, but I had never really looked at her closely. In her mid 40s she was still trim, with just a hint of motherly broadness in her hips and thighs. Her breasts were small to fit her figure but her skin and flesh were taut and fairly smooth. If you didn’t look at her hands or face you’d think she was a woman of 30, and if you did you would only say 35. Even in blue jeans and bra she was outrageously sexy.
She leaned back in the seat and spread her legs casually, closing her eyes and enjoying it. Tom continued to gently stroke her breasts and occasionally gave them a slight squeeze. With each squeeze or stroke I could just hear a slight intake of breath that was almost a moan. Jean was obviously enjoying this.
A few minutes of this went by and Tom started to reach behind his mother. Without opening her eyes she leaned a little forward allowing him the access they both wanted. “Do you remember how?” she asked in a distracted manner.
“Yeah, I think I can do it.” Tom managed to get both is hands around his mothers back and fumbled a minute with the clasp. “There. That’s got it,” he said, and drew the bra forward and off her outstretched arms.
The skin of Jeans exposed breasts was a pale ivory except for the nipples and the heavily crinkled disk surrounding them. These were both a pinkish brown that contrasted nicely with her creamy skin. The nipples themselves were much larger than mine, and reminded me of the tips of little toes sticking out hard and eager.
I rubbed myself even harder when I saw them. With my other hand I reached up under my shirt and squeezed my tits. My boobs were actually larger than hers, though I was amazed that hers were firmer than mine. They were small enough that they almost didn’t sag at all. For a fleeting moment I imagined the hand I had on my tit was actually on her lovely breast, and I had to squeeze my other hand and fingers between my thighs to keep from moaning.
The view of her lovely breasts was short lived. Almost as soon as Tom had dropped the bra on the ground he kneeled between her thighs and took one nipple in his mouth. The other breast he held in his hand like it was a small animal, petting and stroking it fondly.
They were far enough away from me that I couldn’t hear much of their billing and cooing, but the gently wet lapping sound of his tongue and lips on her breast was apparent. Jean reached out and took the back of his head, thereby giving herself some control of the pleasure he was offering.
Her disengaged had went down to the bottom of his t-shirt and pulled it up. This caused a short break in the contact as she drew it up over his head, but he obediently returned to sucking and licking her nipples.
This time Jean’s free hand briefly stroked his broad shoulders before disappearing between them. Due to my position I couldn’t see exactly what she was doing, but I knew that he liked it. His mouth on her nipple grew more frantic and the sounds he was making more audible.
My thighs and pussy were on fire and my nipples ached to be touched. I didn’t dare take off my bra though. Even having my hands under my clothes would be awkward if someone should show up. I really didn’t expect anyone to, but there was always the possibility.
Finally after they both began breathing rather hard, Jean pushed her son away and stood up shaking her jeans down around her ankles. “Now, get those shorts off and bring it out,” she said.
Now she was dressed only in her pink panties, which were cut low on her hips like was in fashion for girls my age. Tom dropped his shorts and boxers on the ground and stood in front of her totally nude. His penis stood up in a graceful arc, bowing it’s head with each of his heavy breaths.
Jean took his hand and steered him down onto the cushions of the swing, where she knelt between his thighs in much the same way he had been a minute before. Now I could only barely see one of her breasts, but luckily I could see what she was doing to his hard penis.
First she canlı casino siteleri kissed it’s reddish head, and lightly licked it. This caused a deep sigh to escape from Tom. Then she slowly moved her lips from a kiss on the tip, down around the head until she just covered it. Drawing back I could see her saliva glistening again on her lips and his prick.
Finally she grasped the shaft with her hand and took the head back into her lips and held it there. With a very slow gesture she began to stroke his prick up and down, which caused the head she held in her lips to slid back and forth, and in and out of her mouth.
Each time her mouth pulled back off the head of his prick Tom would thrust his hips towards his mothers face, hoping to relive its desire in her teasing lips. Then Jean would release the head of his prick from her lips and stroke the shaft more fully with her hand. Each time she did this Tom would give a sharp intake of breath which would last only for the short period it would take for Jean to put her lips back around his cock.
I watched all of this in fascination, some unused part of my mind taking notes. I could see now some ways to make Tom feel good, and that made me feel more comfortable with the idea of sex. I started to wonder how his pretty penis would taste, and how it would feel in my hand.
Tom was moaning louder and louder while the intervals that Jean had her mouth on his cock got longer. I also noted I was rubbing my pussy in the same rhythm that Jean was sucking on him. I smiled when I thought this and made a conscious effort to continue that motion.
Without warning, Tom suddenly took his mothers head in his hands and pulled her away from his prick. “Hmmm,” he moaned, “you’ll have to stop that or I’ll come in your mouth.”
“Of course dear,” was her answer. “Do you want to fuck me now?” With that she sat backwards on the grass and pulled her panties down her long legs and threw them aside. She had turned so that I could see her legs spread in an inviting manner with her knees up and her arms back. I could just see her pubic hair, which was a dark honey color, and the pink engorged mounds of her outer labia.
“Please, Mom,” he said to her. “I really need to come.”
I had never felt any attraction to a woman before, but something about the sight of her wet and ready pussy was turning me on hard. It didn’t help that I was seeing my boyfriend naked and erect for the first time. As I watched him kneel between her waiting thighs I reached up under my skirt and pulled my panties off. This was a bit complicated because I didn’t want to miss a moment of the scene in front of me.
Taking off my panties didn’t cool me down like I had hoped it would. Something about the cool air on my wet pussy sent happy chills up and down my body like waves. Every few seconds one would pass my tits or my pussy and a little moan would escape my lips. When that happened I could only hope that the people in front of me were too busy to notice any small sounds I was making.
Tom had his cock in his hand as he kneeled down with his mother. He started to point it in the right direction, but she stopped him and took it in her own experienced hand. With some wiggling around that was somehow the most erotic thing she had yet done, she managed to lodge just the head of his cock in her waiting cunt.
Using her hand and moving her hips gently on the grass she used her son’s penis to rub her swollen lips and a little knob of flesh that had to be her clitoris. Tom seemed agitated by this, but didn’t complain. He just leaned forward and placed kiss after kiss on her lovely nipples.
Jean was showing a cat like smile of contentment, but Tom was getting more and more frantic with his hip motions and his licking of her nipples. Finally Jean leaned all the way back onto the grass, took Tom’s hips in her hands, and pulled him on top of her and inside of her.
A look of pure relief poured out onto Tom’s face as he began a gentle up and down motion inside his mothers pussy. I was relived too, because when he entered Jean, I pushed my finger up inside my own pussy and started rubbing myself in earnest. I really didn’t care anymore, I was going to get off.
As Tom fucked his mother, and I was fingering my too hot pussy, I stopped for a moment to reach back up under my shirt and pull my boobs out from under my bra. My nipples needed to be touched as much as my pussy. Without stopping long enough to take off my shirt I couldn’t get the bra clear off, but this was the next best thing. I took my soft breast in my hand and squeezed it, pinching my hard nipple so much that I was sure it would be sore tomorrow.
I’m not sure how long this went on, but it was probably at least ten minutes because I was getting close. Without warning Jean began breathing very hard and pulling Tom’s buttocks in and out faster. “That’s the way,” she told him, “Fuck me harder and faster!” He obliged her readily and happily.
I was so close that I knew it wouldn’t take much to push me over the top. There’s a thing I can do that keeps me right on the edge for a long time without breaking the crest. I did it now, hoping against hope that I could make myself come at the same moment that they did.
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