She increased her pace, her mouth sucking so hard, my cock had no choice but to discharge its load. My muscles stiffened while my prick plastered the back of Gran’s throat with sticky semen. She swallowed every drop before tongue-washing my shaft and tip. She pulled off and smacked her lips. “That was a lot of tasty cum. At least we don’t have to worry about soiling your sheets tonight,” she giggled.
After my breathing returned to normal, I opened my eyes and exclaimed, “Wow, Gran! I’ve never cum so hard.”
“Please, Evan. Call me Dahlia from now on. I prefer it after a man has gifted me his seed. I’m glad you enjoyed it. It’ll even be better when your mother does it. Your progress has been slow for the
last week. I’m surprised you haven’t kissed her. You know she’s ready, don’t you?”
My heart quickened as I allowed myself to consider the possibility of a more intimate relationship with my mother. “Gra…” I hesitated, seeing her reaction. “Dahlia, I’m not sure she is. I thought we would connect tonight, but she abruptly left. It might be a line she doesn’t want to cross.”
“Nonsense. Your mother is ready and is waiting for you to make the first move. Goodnight, Evan,” she whispered and disappeared before I could reply.
*****
The next day, we decided to clean the house and have a light lunch before heading to the restaurant Mom had chosen. Not knowing where we were going, I didn’t take a chance and wore my best clothes in case the place was upscale. When Mom emerged from her room after changing clothes, my jaw dropped. The tight-fitting summer dress fit her perfectly, showing off her shapely figure. Her shorter-than-normal hemline showed off a good portion of her thin, smooth thighs.
“Wow, Mom. You look gorgeous!” I chirped, my penetrating gaze traveling up and down her sexy body. Just as I caught her blushing face, she replied, “Thanks, Evan. I haven’t worn it for ages and was surprised it still fit. The days are getting warmer, and I wanted to wear something cooler.”
Before I could further comment, she ordered, “I’m driving. Let’s go.”
During our journey, her dress rode higher, revealing more of her appealing, shapely legs. Not wanting to get caught leering for too long, my stare traversed upward and stopped at her thin top, where the outline of her nipples pressed against the material.
Mom caught my attention by clearing her throat. She asked, “We’re a little early. Do you mind if we do some shopping before we eat?”
“Not at all. I’m not hungry, either,” I replied, my gaze returning to Mom’s face. She gave no hint of catching me admiring her alluring assets.
Several hours later, we finally reached our destination – the restaurant. As we stepped inside, a friendly hostess greeted us with a smile. “Welcome! We have a wonderfully romantic table for such a lovely couple,” she announced, gesturing towards a cozy spot illuminated by flickering candles. “I hope you both enjoy your evening.”
It took me by surprise when Mom didn’t correct her, regarding our relationship. Mom upped the pretense when she stood by the chair and waited for me to pull it out for her to sit. My heart fluttered as it was apparently a date, not an evening with my mother.
Mom continued with the charade by flirting with me throughout the meal, often reaching over and touching my arm. It was easy to immerse ourselves in the romantic setting with Mom’s cheerful and vibrant attitude.
It was too dark to admire Mom’s legs on the way home. After our showers, we met in the living room for our nightly cuddling session.
Not wanting to prolong the inevitable, I ran my fingers through her hair and massaged her scalp. She moaned, encouraging me to progress lower to caress her long, soft neck. She leaned back, allowing the gap in her robe to widen, exposing the insides of her swelling breasts. When she closed her eyes to enjoy the blissful moment, I took the opportunity to admire her smooth, exposed chest. Gran was right – Mom was ready to progress with our relationship. The time had arrived for me to bare my soul and reveal the intensity of the love I held for her.
My heart raced once the evening finished, and it was time for our evening hug. After we embraced for a moment, I lustfully gazed at Mom’s lust-filled face and knew she desired more. I whispered, “I love you so much, Mom.” Leaning down, I pressed my lips to hers. Our eyes locked together while our mouths twisted and melded together. Her soft lips sent chills down my spine. After a few seconds, my tongue slipped between our lips and collided with hers.
At first, she didn’t respond, but suddenly she sprung back. “Evan, what are you doing? I’m your mother!” she exclaimed. Her facial expression wasn’t one of disgust but one of confusion and hurt. Had I misread her signals all day? Her response left me speechless and awe-struck. She turned and dashed to her room; my world crashed around me. Rejected, I slowly sauntered to my room, stripped, and crawled underneath the covers.
As I shut out the world, I realized that slumber would elude me. Instead of finding peace in the darkness, my thoughts raced and swirled, churning up the consequences of my actions. Every decision, every word, and every gesture echoed in my mind, demanding my attention and preventing any chance of rest. I asked myself, “Would Mom kick me out of the house? Did she hate me?”
Before long, I felt the familiar chill on my legs. “Not tonight, Dahlia. I blew it with Mom. She hates me now,” I lamented, my voice shaking.
“It’s not that bad, Evan. You might have been a little too aggressive, but she’ll understand. She knows your youthful hormones are what drives you. Don’t give up on the one you love most, or you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”
As I gazed upon Gran’s beaming countenance, my spirits lifted in an instant. “Do you really think so?” I asked, my doubts melting away under her reassuring smile. “She looked upset. Perhaps, I should revert to acting like a son.”
“Absolutely not. Your mother loves you and might pursue love elsewhere if you don’t provide it.”
Another chill swept through me while a second familiar, ghostly figure materialized. “Dad?”
“Yes, Evan. It’s me. I felt your sorrow and wanted to help solve your problem.” Looking at Gran, he asked, “Dahlia, are you sure he shouldn’t ease off a bit? We don’t want to scare Emily.”
“They love each other, which will override any fleeting discomfort. Trust me. I know what I’m doing,” Gran replied, confidently.
“You certainly are the expert,” Dad acquiesced. “Evan, follow your grandmother’s instructions.”
“Dad, are you giving me permission to make love to your wife, my mother?” I asked, fearing his reply.
My father, whom I loved and trusted, focused his attention on me and asserted, “Emily was the best thing that happened to me. She deserves someone to love her as much as I did, and you’re the best man I can think of. I desire nothing more than you to replace me as her husband.”
My despondent feeling vanished along with Dad’s image. “Thanks for everything, I’ll try to make amends with Mom
tomorrow,” I promised Gran. “She enjoys hiking to the park and back, so I’ll offer to accompany her.”
“Excellent, Evan,” she replied. “The forecast is for a sunny, hot day. Wear your shorts, pack a blanket to sit on, and suggest to your mom to wear her white tennis skirt.”
“Sounds good. I have a lot to think about. Goodnight.”
Despite my best efforts, sleep eluded me as the events that led to the fateful kiss kept playing over and over in my mind. Suddenly, I felt a warm body press against my backside. It was Gran, providing comfort to her grandson. The feeling of her nude body pressed close to mine sent a soothing warmth through me, easing my tensions. Her hard nipples poked into my back when she wrapped her hand around my chest and pulled us tighter.
Within minutes, I was soundly asleep. After waking refreshed, I took a shower and began preparing breakfast. Mom arrived, and I was glad to see her wearing her robe, looking as beautiful as always. There was no anger or hurt in her expression when she greeted me. “Good morning, Evan. Everything smells wonderful. After our big day yesterday, I slept like a log. How about you?”
Her inquisitive look made me think I didn’t get a good night’s sleep. Or was she expecting me to apologize?
“Sleep evaded me, but I managed to succeed after a while,” I replied. Mom’s silence prompted me to continue. “I was upset
with myself for how I acted last night. Mom, I’m so sorry. I hope you can forgive me.”
Her wide smile and joyful look relieved me, easing my anxiety. “It was nothing, dear. Don’t fret about it. We both got caught up in the moment after a wonderful evening.”
We ate and talked, never again referencing the uncomfortable situation. Something bothered me from the previous night’s conversation. Dad referred to Gran as Dahlia instead of Mom. Did he have a sexual relationship with his mother? For the life of me, I couldn’t recall whether he called her Dahlia when I was growing up.
After completing our morning chores, I asked, “Mom, do you have any old scrapbooks of Grandma Dahlia or Dad?”
“I believe so. Why the sudden interest in old pictures?” Mom asked, her curiosity evident in her voice.
“I’d like to see how they appeared when they were younger. Preserving my memories of them is crucial to me, as they played a significant role in my life.”
“That’s so sweet of you. Sit on the couch, and I’ll look for them,” Mom excitedly beamed. Ten minutes later, she pranced out, carrying a book. Sitting by me, she opened it. “It’s your dad’s college graduation book his Mother made for him. It was a few
months before we met, so I’m not in any of the pictures. I almost forgot about storing it away after your grandmother passed.”
Clippings from newspapers, along with Dad’s scholastic achievements, filled most of the book. The last few pages were photos of him and Grandma celebrating at his graduation party. Several relatives I recognized, but most I had no clue about. Mom paused on the last page. Dad and Gran posed together, his arm wrapped around her waist. Their bodies pressed together, and they looked more like a happy couple in love rather than a mother and son. My attention was drawn to the final photograph, which depicted Dad and his mother locked in a loving embrace, their lips meeting in a passionate kiss.
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