Mom showed me her tits

To my surprise and delight, she was transforming into a teasing showoff. In spite of the quick surgery and positive prognosis, the entire ordeal had frightened my mother, and rightfully so. Gently, she began to rub her fingers in the soft, springy bush, up and down. According to her, I was practically a man. Why had she lain on the floor and not on the bed? Her cool demeanor dissipated, just for a moment, as her eyes rolled back into her head.

By now, I had to close my eyes, because my own orgasm hit like a hurricane. The soft, cushiony globes responded to her hands like two mounds of firm dough, shifting heavily with her touch. Later that summer, I was in my bedroom, when I looked out the window and saw my mom and the next-door neighbor sunbathing on the grass between our houses. Mom appeared to be having convulsions, each wave wracking her body violently, one after the other, until they finally subsided. I rubbed more aggressively. Summer, brought my birthday, a trip to summer camp, and a slight scare for the family. Stories Poems Story Series.

The electric thrill that went through me on seeing this scene was almost as powerful as the one that next shot through me when mom turned and saw me. But inside I was boiling with lust. Share on Facebook Share on Twitter Embed: Unfortunately, my left cheek also bore the deep imprint of the peach shag carpet in the hallway outside her bedroom door.